“Have Sex with Me, or You’re an Asshole.”

Boundaries start with self-love. Personal responsibility is key to knowing what’s out of bounds.

When I rejected the rules imposed by the conservative state and religion I grew up in, I felt a freedom I’d never known before. There were no longer rules telling me I couldn’t fall in love, have sex with other boys, consume drugs and alcohol, or be a ballet dancer. 

Unfortunately, that left no rules telling me what to do with the I’ll touch you if I want to, corner you in a conversation, and hostage-taking manipulations (very often packaged as “polite” conversation”) of men with whom I did not want to engage.

For queer people, rejecting the standard narrative can be liberating. At the same time, it’s also disorienting. 

I didn’t know how to say “no” without feeling like an asshole. 

I was adrift on the sea of life without a rudder or a sail. Without a plotted ethical course, there was no direction to steer my ship. And, without knowing how to strengthen my personal dignity, there was little wind in my sail to move me forward toward contentment and meaning.

This led to meth, crack, abusive sex, relationships I didn’t want to be in, estranged family, boring parties I didn’t want to be at, fucking my roommate’s crush in our shared bedroom, stealing from my boss…it’s a long list, all experiences I regret. 

When I was 21, I drafted a letter (that I never sent)  addressed to the advice column of the local gay paper in San Diego because I wanted to know how to say “no” to a guy without being labeled a “mean person who thought he was better than everyone else.”

Growing up Mormon, I had a core value (although I didn’t understand it then) that being perceived as nice equals doing God’s work. It meant I was a good person. If someone is not agreeable and nice, they are doing something wrong. I really believed that. It gave my life meaning.  

As a tall, blonde, 21-year-old with the body of a young man pursuing a professional ballet career during the day, my nights barbacking at Peacock Alley in San Diego (1986) were chuck full of moments being grabbed, being told how much fun it would be to have my legs wrapped over their shoulders, and phone numbers stuffed in my pocket. Most of which, quite honestly, was a boost to my fragile baby-gay ego.

The problems arose when I didn’t call the numbers, when I didn’t drape my legs over their shoulders, and when I avoided the worst predatory grabbers and verbal manipulators. I questioned my non-physical worth. I encouraged guys who became distant and angry when I didn’t follow through. I was called a “cock tease.” Above all else, I wanted to be seen as a “good” person. So, I allowed myself to have sex with lots of men who were successful at convincing me I only had two choices: 1) Have sex with them, 2) Be a self-centered, selfish asshole.

I needed help finding my way. I needed boundaries. But, if I’d sent that letter to the magazine and they’d printed the best possible list of personal boundaries for me to follow, I most likely wouldn’t have followed them. 

Why? 

I didn’t have the personal dignity to do so. I didn’t have the wind in my sail necessary to give me power for forward motion. Deep down, I felt contemptible because of my gall to snub the standard narrative insisting that the pinnacle of sexual morality is one man having sex with one woman and no others for their entire life. 

At the very least, I believed I should be monogamous. But I was afraid of being alone. I wanted pleasure. I knew no other way to find love.

Because of my unaddressed trauma surrounding the loss of the religion I loved and the exodus from one culture to another—the result of frightened parents, heavy-handed gay-negative schools, churches, and government—, I had not yet looked at the old life-limiting messages I’d internalized, that had permeated my soul and become a part of me. A big part of me believed I was selfish for leaving my family, a sinner for having sex without love, and an economic bottom dweller for choosing ballet over college or getting a “real” job. 

It was easier to make it binary. They are mean and horrible, whereas I am an innocent victim who gets to break all the rules.

I was angry. 

I did not want limitations on my behavior. 

I just wanted limitations on other people’s behavior. 

ATTITUDE 

At the Motherload in West Hollywood, I turned to the dark side of cruising for protection. 

I allowed the “fuck me or be an asshole” conversation to play out with a guy and decided to choose “asshole.” I told the guy that he was right, “You’re right. I’m a self-centered asshole for not leaving with you right now. Satisfied?”

Without any conscious effort, my mind and body found a path to autonomy. I put my deflectors on full, avoided eye contact, constantly expanded my list of what makes potential partners unacceptable, and developed a better-than-snark to boost my ego. 

Fueled by fear, overwhelm, and shame, I embraced “attitude” as my primary defense mechanism. 

That’s why I have a lot of compassion for the guys I encounter who are still deploying it to feel safe. 

Unfortunately, that left me isolated as I danced in a circle of blank-faced, chiseled bodies bobbing up and down on the dance floor, chasing the lie that being the hottest guy at the party would fix the gaping hole of dignity created by the limiting thoughts of my unaddressed trauma.

TOWARD

“Yesterday, I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today, I am wise, so I am changing myself.”

― Rumi

When I started looking inward to find out who I wanted to be, it became easier to find what I was looking for in other people. Instead of focusing on and fighting off all the bad behaviors, beliefs, and attitudes of the people I wanted to get away from, I started moving toward the people I wanted in my life. 

Life got easier with far fewer people to focus on, the ones with qualities I want in my relationships.  

PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY

Narrowing my attention to the types of people I want in my life gives me a direction to move toward. The rudder now has a destination to point the ship of my life toward.

It starts with looking inward, knowing yourself, and being your own best friend. The kind of friend who loves you for who you actually are and only wants what’s best for you—a friend who knows your entire life story and is willing to face past traumas with healing support. 

Plotting that course requires putting self-love first. 

“Without Maitri [self-love], renunciation of bad habits becomes abusive.”
~Pema Chödrön

The most powerful drag queen of our time agrees. 

“If you don't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”
~RuPaul 

We need to face the parts of the worthlessness message that we internalize. If we don’t, boundaries will not work because, deep down, we believe we are not worthy of that kind of love, kindness, and respect. 

It’s less about stopping other people’s behavior and more about moving toward a life built on your values, preferences, strengths, and weaknesses. When you are actively engaged in creating your best life, it’s less likely you’ll be drawn into manipulating conversations and behaviors with people who are not part of your vision for your best life.

We strengthen our love for ourselves when we show up for ourselves. Outlining and living up to my own personal responsibilities gives me a map of my chosen ethical course to move toward. My dignity is strengthened, adding wind to my sail every time I show up for myself. 

Learning how to say “no” to others and asking for what I need started with taking personal responsibility for my own life. When I follow my own rules of personal responsibility, it’s easy to demand the same from others. 

These are my personal responsibilities and some examples of each: 

1. Hold myself accountable for my own actions and exercise self-control.
   I add a recovery day when I follow through with my plans to do molly and stay up until morning instead of saying yes to brunch plans and being a no-show. I apologize for my mistakes. See #8. 

2. Be willing to do some introspection. Also known as personal inquiry.
   Without it, I fall victim to groupthink, conventional wisdom, and cultural narratives. For me, that has included years of traditional talk therapy, 12-step work, yoga training/teaching, meditation retreats, men’s work with ManKind Project, coaching with Neuro-Linguistic Programming, Timeline Therapy, and tantra coaching training. 

3. Have realistic expectations.
   Everyone has their own worldview based on their own life experience. I expect 20-year-olds, 50-year-olds, and 80-year-olds to behave differently. I expect my straight-white Missiour-based brother-in-law (who I dearly love) to behave differently than my gay-white Southern California-based husband.  

4. Give as much as I take.
   Empathy is essential. I ask myself what will make the person I’m having coffee with, working out with, or having sex with, happy. I tend to talk more than I listen, making this one difficult. 

5. Be aware of my actions and their impacts.
   Showing up late for meetings lowers people’s trust in me. Pursuing a guy who has made it clear he’s not interested will shut him down for me and other men. Leaving my towel on the floor in the gym locker room makes the maintenance guys’ lives more difficult. 

6. Do not blame or whine.
   This is not always easy for me, but it’s essential. Blaming and whining feed the notion that I am powerless and the world is out to get me. I do not want to feed that wolf. 

7. Honor my word.
   Simple to say. Not easy to do. “No, I won’t call you if you give me your number.” When I say I’ll have lunch, I mean it.

8. Admit and apologize for the mistakes I make.
   This is straightforward. The key is being honest with myself and admitting to myself that a mistake has been made. I recently bought lunch for a friend because I pushed our morning plans back. I said 10:00 a.m. would be okay. I was wrong, so I made a small gesture to be clear that I respect him and his time. 

9. Don’t take things personally.
   Related to #3. Everyone has their own worldview based on their experience. Quick story: An air-conditioning repairman was 90 minutes late arriving at my condo, and I was furious. I let him see my anger, then apologized for being inappropriate. He then told me about being on the phone with his wife about needing to put their dog down. He was not trying to fuck with me. His being late was not about me. He was taking care of his primary relationship, which is something I respect. We were then able to support each other. 

SORTING HAT

Having my own list of personal responsibilities works like the sorting hat in the Harry Potter world. While moving through the world, I can pull it out and try it on the people I meet. It gives me a meter reading from 0-100% compatible.

When I treat myself with love, like the best of best friends ever, I hear the truth of what it says and act accordingly.

After you’ve decided what your personal responsibilities are, Google “personal boundaries,” and they will be much easier to apply.