One can change their drive. One can become resilient. But one doesn’t need to pay Sarah Prout to do so.
Read MoreLove & Nappiness: On Hair, Race & Self-Worth
A lot of people of other races wonder, why the hell does hair matter so much to the black community? Well, it’s wrapped around a history of oppression and prejudice, and a whole bunch of stuff that would take another essay, extensive research and a PhD to thoroughly explain
Read MorePolyamory Commands Intimacy, Not Just a Fling
BY GHIA VITALE
This piece is part of the Relationship Issue. Read more here.
As someone who has been polyamorous for seven out of the 11 years I’ve been with my partner, I can say with utmost certainty that polyamory is not an experiment for me.
It is the path in life my heart wandered down and never turned back. And suddenly, the mainstream dating world knows about polyamory. Now that I can simply check off the “polyamorous” box in an OkCupid profile, I am still hesitant to dip my toe into the icy waters of online dating.
One of their most recent additions is a feature that allows you to link your account to a partner’s account in order to let users know whom you’re currently dating on the site. It’s actually no better than how Facebook only lets you be in one relationship. In other words, to Hell with the rest of your lovers if you’re poly because according to these websites, only one of them is worth mentioning. The threesome requests were frequent enough when I confessed that I was bisexual in my profile. I’m worried that no matter how much I stress that I’m not looking for flings, that’s all others seem to want me for. That’s how it went in the past, anyway.
One of my biggest hang-ups about poly dating is the same issue other experienced poly people struggle with: the risk of becoming collateral damage in someone else’s quest for self-discovery, novelty, freedom, and most importantly, love. A recent spike in popularity has saturated the poly community with widespread interest. That means the poly-curious population is increasing. While that might mean there’s more to love, it also means there’s more people there to mess it up. Many newbies embark upon their poly journey with pure intentions; others mistake our permanent lifestyle for whatever they wish would fulfill their temporary and misguided desires. How do I know their desires are misguided? I know this because I’ve been directly implicated in these personal quests for self-fulfillment that end in nothing except breakups.
I let everyone know that polyamory is the only way I roll. While people are more than happy to enjoy my company as a fling, the idea of having multiple significant others that are actually significant is beyond most people’s comprehension and it seeps through their behavior. Once I let them know there’s zero chance of a monogamous future happening (or even a monogamish one), the tone of our interaction change drastically. All of the sudden, our relationship is no longer headed in any kind of committal direction and I lose my viability as a “serious” partner whom they envision a future with. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not pressing for commitment before it’s appropriate. I’m all about free love and I believe each relationship being a unique expression of love. But even though we’ll both claim we want poly relationships, I’m the only person who means it. What they actually mean is that they want to indulge in multiple relationships at once without strings attached. That’s fine, but that’s not polyamory.
It’s always different variations of the same scenario: I meet someone who claims to be poly-curious, poly-friendly, or “open to being with a poly partner.” Then they realize they’re not as poly as they thought they were, that they just wanted to date around and explore before meeting a monogamous partner. Whether or not I consented to this involvement never mattered, so I’ve learned how to recognize the unique smell of this trainwreck smoke so I don’t have to stand the heat later on. I understand that these people usually mess up because they don’t know better. As the person who’s actually poly, I basically have to be the person who knows better. It just sucks to become seriously invested in someone because they seemed to say the right things at the right times and gave you the impression that polyamory was a long-term consideration for them. It no longer felt like a carpet being pulled from beneath me once I developed a healthy sense of paranoia about it. Even educating these people about poly doesn’t seem to make them go back into the hookup culture that better suits their yearnings.
Polyamory is about maintaining multiple relationships, not just the freedom to have as many flings. Too many people enter polyamory with the “playing the field” mindset. They’re more than happy to practice polyamory, but never actually be polyamorous. If they were actually living polyamory as opposed to practicing it, they would see polyamory as a part of their future rather than a quick fix. That’s just the problem: They don’t see polyamory as a part of their future. They only see polyamory as a situational means to their temporary ends. Yes, polyamory absolves you from having to choose 1 person over another, but there’s so much more to it than that. Polyamory is far more about building and maintaining connections than it is about driveby romances and hooking up.
As a polyamorous person, I want more than a good time. I want love.
Ghia Vitale is a writer from Long Island. She graduated from Purchase College with a BA in literature as well as minors in psychology and sociology. She has written for Ravishly and Quail Bell Magazine.
Dear Dudes: Stop Telling Me Not to Wear Lipstick
How dare you not be fuckable when you could have so easily been fuckable?
Read MoreThe Consumer's Guide to Goth Feminism
Staying on-brand as a Goth Feminist™ is hard work. I’m writing this missive to share some of my knowledge about how to consume various items, concepts, and people in a manner consistent with the Goth Feminist™ lifestyle. Read my advice at your own peril; follow my advice for even more perilousness. Peril is feminist. Peril is goth. Consumption is perilous.
Read MoreMike Brown, Tamir Rice, And Contorting the Narrative
Minutes after the fatal shooting of 12-year-old Tamir Rice by two officers of the Cleveland Police Department, the narrative was tweaked in favor of the assailants. According to the LA Times, one of the officers told the dispatcher that Tamir was not a child, but believed to be “possibly 20 years old.” How can a person mistake an adolescent boy, a seventh grader, for a nearly full-grown adult?
Read More
Memories of St. Mark's Bookshop
BY LISA MARIE BASILE
This is part of our brand new NYC vertical.
When I was a teenager, I'd come into the city on weekends to visit my boyfriend, Gabriel. He lived in this cozy, art-filled Upper West Side apartment--right on the Park. We'd always head downtown to the East Village, especially when he played shows at the Continental--before it was a ten-shots-for-10-bucks place, when it was still a cool music venue.
Right next door was the Bookshop, which would always speak to me; if the club owner at Continental (anyone remember the bouncer with the huge hat?) thought I was too young to come in (despite being the girlfriend of the guy in the band), I'd head to the bookshop and get lost.
Back then, the premise of becoming a writer--let alone surrounding myself with the literary, or going to school in NYC for writing--was as ridiculous as becoming a Hollywood actress. I felt I had no plan, no voice, no money, and certainly no ability.
Gabriel and his parents nurtured me, leaving an imprint that I cannot ever deny. If I'm a product of anything, it's my parents, my resilience, and them. Standing outside that bookshop, peering in at this world, was something meaningful. I didn't realize it then, but it changed me.
As the years went on and I found myself in college in 2005, long after the city had changed--along with my perception of it (it stopped being a giant; it started becoming home), I'd find myself at the bookshop. And again, in graduate school. I even madly kissed someone, drunk on mugs of $3 beer at Grassroots Tavern, against a stack of books.
To speak of loss in New York is strange. There is so much here. There is so much to do, and think about, and so many people. There is the time that has passed, the locations that have gentrified, or died, or been stripped of their identities. And the institutions that watched.
To think sentimentally about any one space in a city so big--where we don't have neighborhoods to ourselves anymore, but an entire playground--seems futile. But those places are what center you. You know that among the millions, and under all the buildings, there's an anchor. What made it all OK. What made it real.
Goodbye, St. Mark's Bookshop.
Lisa Marie Basile is a NYC-based poet, editor, and writer. She’s the founding editor-in-chief of Luna Luna Magazine, and her work has appeared in Bustle, The Establishment, Hello Giggles, The Gloss, xoJane, Good Housekeeping, Redbook, and The Huffington Post, among other sites. She is the author of Apocryphal (Noctuary Press, Uni of Buffalo) and a few chapbooks. Her work as a poet and editor have been featured in Amy Poehler’s Smart Girls, The New York Daily News, Best American Poetry, Tin House, Best American Poetry, and The Rumpus, among others. She currently works for Hearst Digital Media, where she edits for The Mix, their contributor network.
My Baby’s Not a Baby Anymore (& Some Advice on Dealing With That)
Recently, my daughter turned NINETEEN. I’m feeling a little nostalgic so I’ve decided to forgo the literary stuff and give a little list of the best and the worst of my mothering adventures and how I coped through them. I am so proud and pleased that this wonderful creature came through me. I take some of the blame for her problems but I know she was destined to be just who she is – an arty, slightly moody, over-intelligent, secure and yet slightly insecure girl-on-the-verge-of-woman with the world at her fingertips and just enough strength to reach for it.
Read MoreWhy I Didn't Change My Name When I Got Married
At some point in my development, before I entered high school, I’m sure, I knew two fundamental facts about myself: I am a writer, and I wasn’t one to marry until I was at least 28.
How Can We Stop Heteronormative Parenting?
I’ve often wondered how to move away from heteronormative parenting. I want to give my kids choices — to leave room for them to be themselves, whoever that turns out to be. But it takes a conscious effort to back away from what I was raised with and what I see around me, from what is provided for us and staring us in the face. It requires forethought to present the alternatives.
Read MoreHow Horror Movies Help Me Cope With Anxiety
I want movies that will give me the same feeling of dread that I experience when faced with making basic life choices. The same dread I experience when the manicurist uses what looks like a filthy towel to wipe the exfoliating slop off my feet. The flushing of my face, dropping of my heart, and drying of my tongue when I get ready to teach a new class. Give me the creature from the swamp, but don’t force me to confront the hairstylist who has stridently shamed me for chopping my own bangs.
Read MoreThe Oscars Ought To Look In The Mirror
If the Oscars looked in the mirror--and the Oscars really, really need to--the Oscars would see white men. Haven't they learned anything from last year's diversity gap (and that's putting it nicely)?
This year, the committee pulled the same nonsense.
While the racial breakdowns are SCARY problematic, here's a tiny, tiny glimpse into just how bad it is: Creed (written AND directed by a black man) and Straight Outta Compton (starring black actors) were recognized. But it was the white men in the mix that were nominated. The white men.
This is not a test.
It's hard to understand the bias against people of color and women that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences has--considering all of the amazing art being made--but one thing is certain: they're not too concerned with changing it.
In 2015, the Academy welcomed 322 new members to counter its diversity problem (overwhelmingly made up white males over the age of 50; in 2013, it was 93% male.)
Are these new members making a dent?
The problem is with all of Hollywood and all of America; it's sexist. When it comes to women, the numbers are awful: 22% of the Academy are made up of women--women who are underpaid and undervalued (props to J-Law for speaking up). The Academy is blind to the fact that people of color need to be represented more (watch this excellent Hollywood Reporter roundtable with Amy Schumer, Gina Roridguez, Tracee Ellis-Ross, and more) and too propped up by its own systemic privilege to make change. So when you're looking at what happens on the outside (like the Oscars whitewash) it's a good indicator that the problem is from the inside.
When are we going to stop letting people in positions of power make the wrong decisions? We've got another #OscarsSoWhite situation. Keep speaking up.
The Savage Brain: From the American Revolution to Syria's Refugee Crisis
In 2002, Manolescu Loan, a Romanian man who was walking cross-country after his truck broke down, found 8-year-old Traian, legs splayed from rickets, eating from the carcass of a dog. He was the size of a three-year-old and huddled for warmth in a cardboard box; his circulation slowing because of the frostbite--inevitable in the freezing Transylvanian forest. Three years prior, it seems Traian had been abandoned by his 20-year mother who had been abused by the man to whom she was married under Gypsy law. The doctors who observed the case (and who nicknamed the boy Mowgli) believe that he was fostered by wolves: he barked, howled, growled and bit.
Read MoreYou Write What You Read
I didn’t consciously make my protagonists white when I began to write fiction. There were times I swore I didn’t think about my characters’ races. But really, they were. Even when I claimed they were utter inventions of my imagination, removed from a context of race, I re-read my stories and see how they really weren’t of anything else. They were all cut from the same cloth.
Read MoreThat Time I Went on Vacation with Someone I Barely Knew
But when you’re in your early twenties and on the kind of quick rebound Serena Williams might appreciate, you think differently. I had recently come back from a Midwest breakup with a long-distance boyfriend. Several gallons of ice cream later, I was still feeling empty. It was springtime, and the idea of getting through the approaching summer on my own wasn’t something I wanted to do.
Read More