I'm So Glad I'm Queer.
Rules seem great, until none of them apply to you.
I grew up watching Millionaire Matchmaker for dating advice and the Style network for fashion advice. I remember diligently filling a pink notebook with rules about 2000s fashion: wear only one piece of denim at a time, or three, if you want to make a statement. No blue eyeshadow!
It would be unfair to put my entire adolescent mindset surrounding dating on Millionaire Matchmaker, but something about Patti Stanger’s rules did appeal to me, as a teenager who knew nothing about dating. With her rules, I thought I had a handle on how dates worked. Two-drink maximum. Don’t put it “here, here, or here,” until you’re monogamous. If you’re not engaged within one year of dating, the man is taking too long and he’s no good.
(I didn’t look these rules up. I know them by heart!)
Patti Stanger also said that lesbians were boring, bisexuals didn’t exist, and redheads were never going to find love. And while a lot of her opinions have gone the way of her Bravolebrity status, a lot of her rules still stick in the backs of the minds of young women trying to find their match.
Rules are helpful. They are reassuring. If you follow the rules, you will earn your reward, right?
If you don’t, your failure is your fault, right?
I work for a dating coach, and I see a lot of dating coaches using similar rules with their (typically) female clients to reassure them they’re on the right path. As a queer person who isn’t in a male-female relationship, sometimes these rules flat out make me cringe.
These rules are often the result of the idea of a man you might find in an episode of Millionaire Matchmaker: masculine, horny, dull, simple-minded. I know not all men are like that, and yet I see people still treat them this way. Could enforcing these rules enforce these stereotypes? Or could we all do a little better at communicating our expectations?
I’m not a psychologist. I don’t have data to back up whether straight men feel intimidated by a woman who plans a date or whether they feel inferior to a woman who offers to go Dutch. What I do know, however, is that many people find it easier to fall back on assumptions and old traditions rather than explore how they got there in the first place. I don’t think most straight women want to be in that traditional role that society hoped to enforce in the 90s, 80s, 70s, 60s. So why are we still expecting men to pay for the date, to plan the date, to be the breadwinner?
If you can’t follow the rules or refer back to stereotypes, because as it turns out, you are queer navigating queer relationships that weren’t discussed beyond The L Word, rules are shattered. I’m thankful for that. Instead of resorting to the rules, I found myself navigating dates asking myself, “Why?” “Who?” “What’s the purpose?”
And in breaking away from tradition and asking these questions, I’ve had to practice again and again how to communicate my expectations and figure out my partner’s. Who does she think should pay for the first date? Who does she expect to make the plans for the next date? Who are we expecting to do the dishes? Who is going to propose? While talking about our dream wedding, we ask ourselves things like, “Why is there a bridal party?” “Who do we need this ceremony for?” “What traditions do we want to keep because they mean something to us?”
We’ve had to ask so many questions about who we are and what our ideal relationship looks like that it becomes second nature. And because it’s second nature, we make fewer assumptions about who is meant to do what. When I asked my partner who paid for drinks on our first date, she shrugged. “Didn’t we just get our own?”
I’m not saying that straight people aren’t capable of this kind of exploration, but for anyone who’s never had to question whether they fit into the traditional heterosexual relationship, working that muscle takes curiosity and courage. It comes naturally to queer folk who have been left wandering the desert of dating, wondering what they heck they’re searching for in the first place. And I’m so thankful for that journey.
I don’t know if any single, straight people are reading this, but if you are, maybe flex this muscle when you’re dating. Step outside of the box and yell out from there: Why? Who? What’s the purpose? Who is going to propose? (Well, maybe save that for the second date.)