Boy Crush
Desirability politics, dangerous masculinity, and the condoms that keep us safe.
I have a crush on a boy who just moved to Bushwick.
I have to say “boy” because crushes remind me of an innocence I still have access to: the capacity to marvel and wonder at the presence of another human being.
We went to college together, and I always saw him on the Main Green, painting large structures of cardboard boxes surrounded by chatter and friends. Or I’d see him on South Campus in the smokey top floor apartment where a friend used to host “Salons” full of charcuterie boards, miscellaneous wines, live bass chords and plenty of shrooms and weed.
But I didn’t have a crush on him until yesterday.
I felt giddy only after our 40 minute conversation about the art of gathering, masculinity, and first dates—all amidst the backdrop of my friend’s front yard barbecue on the first warm day in weeks.
Ok so maybe I’m a slut for men with the capacity for introspection. And maybe that’s a bar far too low for applause.
But I don’t think that’s true.
I think the performance of masculinity inhibits self reflection. And when I asked him, “What’s the best date you’ve ever been on?”
He said, “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
Which led into a conversation filled with half-finished confessions of needs we never had met as kids. Instant crush.
For your listening pleasure as we yap about what’s up in the world of sex, love, and connection.
Boys just wanna…be understood.
If it wasn’t for my very gay femme and nonbinary roommates, I wouldn’t know there was a harrowing mini series about the painful intricacies of boyhood streaming on Netflix right now.
Naturally, I binged every episode of Adolescence over the weekend. Some might walk away from the series hating men even more. But I left tender & raw. I watched episode 3 with the same thought banging around in my head: men need, so deeply, to be known.
When “feminists” say that patriarchy harms all of us, what they really mean is that masculine archetypes rob us of the capacity to feel deeply. Because “man” isn’t a gender, it’s a mask that negates the self who wears it. Masculinity is the illusion of control at the expense of self awareness. Specifically, how one’s attachments, family dynamics, friendships, and sexual experiences coalesce to form who we are.
I finished the final episode anxious and uncomfortable, wishing for a softer landing for both Eddie and his son. But the painful point isn’t that Jamie deserves forgiveness. He doesn’t.
The point is: boys need more than fathers trying to be slightly less violent than their own. Boys need to feel safe enough to be truly seen. To be accepted for all of the ways they will never fulfill a gendered idol that was never human to begin with.
Race still matters on dating apps.
I never stopped thinking about how much my race impacts the endlessly frustrating dating experience. But I stopped “complaining” about it all of the time because I don’t enjoy sounding like a victim.
And Black women are not “victims” per se—not in the helpless sense.
But we sure as fuck get the short end of the desirability stick. One we’re routinely told is imaginary to begin with, but The University of Michigan just published a new study that reminds us that misogynoir is still alive and kicking.
And when I declined to disclose my race on Hinge three months ago? My likes skyrocketed.
Can we fall in love on the dance floor?
Last Thursday I went to Aural Fixation, a new monthly flirty dance party hosted by the dating app, Feeld, and Public Records.
While, I did not lock lips with a mysterious cutie, my friends and I danced with the kind of abandon typically reserved for rocking out in the utter privacy of your room—and fuck it was freeing.
And Feeld isn’t the only brand hosting IRL dating events mixed with the sensuality of music and dance.
Sofar Sounds, best known for hosting secret live shows, curated a singles-only event for Londoners on the Thames River. Sofar’s timely decision to host dating events feels genuine and intimate during a time where we’re all craving a reason to ignore the apps for a night and connect in person.
I’d keep an eye out for any singles events they’re hosting in your city.
Trust me—it’s a lot easier to fall in love off the high of a heavy bass line than on an awkward tech-assisted first date.
They can’t catfish you IRL.
Confession: I was on dating apps before I was 18—and I catfished a lot of people.
Attending a very white, very rich, private school in the Bronx, NY from Kindergarten through 12th grade eviscerated any inkling of self worth I attempted to build through repeated covert racist interactions. Including little white boys who wished to kiss me in stairwells then deny my existence in the conservative social ecosystem.
All of that to say—I thought I was ugly for a long time.
While I’m thrilled to be over that shit, catfishing still exists. And it’s little sister, kittenfishing, is real popular.
According to Vice, 1 in 10 Americans either:
Enhance or dramatically edit their profile pictures.
OR simply refuse to update pictures that depict their gym-bae prime rather than the less flattering reality.
Watch out folks.
Tax dating apps—not orgasms.
As if the dating app dismay wasn’t bad enough, Washington State Democrats want to make dating apps pay..for domestic violence programs.
And, I’m so down.
Obviously dating apps aren’t directly responsible for domestic violence sate or nationwide, but the Match Group monopoly ought to put its revenue towards a good cause—House Bill 2071 would require the apps to shell out $1 per Washington-based user every month.
Which I love a hell of a lot more than the Trump Tariff Surcharge added to Dame’s vibrators. 70% of all sex toys are manufactured in China, and Trump’s recent 125% levy on Chinese imports hit our sexiest brands real hard.
I’ve been wondering if condom prices will be affected by the Trump tariffs, so what are the sexiest safety products on the market?