Debbie: I didn't come out until I was 50, meaning I've only been out publicly, to myself and to the world, for 13 years. It's evolved quite a lot, from somebody who was really scared to be who I was, into somebody proud, really understanding what the word “pride” means.

So for me, coming into my queerness has been life-changing and life-affirming. And I've never looked back.

But one thing I would say is that, before meeting Roxane, I wasn't really comfortable with public displays of affection in general. I was always very closed off with that, and I'm not at all with Roxane. I am always happy for public displays of affection and probably instigate way more than Roxane does because she's shy. Now I like holding hands, walking arm in arm and being very out about our relationship. Part of the reason is people will often ask us if we're together, because we're different races, and I've gotten tired of that. I just retort back, “yeah, we're married!”

Roxane: I would say it is 80% race. Also, to some people, maybe we just don't necessarily look like we would go together.

A lot of people assume we’re not in a relationship. So I love that Debbie is so comfortable articulating, “Oh, no, this person’s with me”. I feel the same way: “This person’s with me.”

As for my journey with my queerness, I've been out since I was 19, so for a very long time. And I'm very fortunate and grateful that I never struggled with it, never worried about God or anything like that. I think what has really changed is that, when I first came out, I would festoon myself with rainbow stuff. Rainbow everything all the time. Rainbow bumper stickers on my car. I would wear Pride rings everywhere. And I'm not ashamed of that. I needed that kind of affirmation because I was living in a very small community in Nebraska, and the queer community was of course even smaller. So these symbols mattered as a way of communicating to other people, “hey, we're family, I'm one of you”. But I don’t feel the need as I've gotten older to festoon myself in pride memorabilia to assert that I'm queer. I'm just queer. And either you recognize that or you don't, but it doesn't change my queerness.

I have now found other ways – other non-product related ways – of communicating queerness as I've gotten older, and that's been good. For example, I'm visibly very gayly married and I talk about my wife in casual conversation. Back when I first came out, I didn't think that marriage equality was going to happen in our lifetime. I never imagined it. And so when I asked Debbie to marry me and we actually did get married, I thought, ‘oh, it's just a piece of paper’. Turns out, it's not. It sort of leveled us up, and personally, I felt more of a gravity between us in the best possible ways.

I think a way we've gotten queerer is that we have really learned how to build a life together and we don't question it, we don't let other people question it, and we don't apologize for it. And I think that's one of the queerest things you can possibly do: live unapologetically and openly, particularly given the political climate.

In fact, I just came from Barnard where I was talking to a class, and afterwards, two queer kids came up to me and were like, "It's just so great to hear you talk about your wife. It gives me hope that I'll be able to do the same thing someday". I was like, “Of course you're going to be able to do that someday when you find the right person”. It's things like that – talking about our marriage and being married – that we've been able to take for granted in a way, especially because we happen to live in two very liberal places, so we get the freedom and the safety to do this, and I don't take that for granted either. But trying to hold onto sentiment of ‘we're not going back, we're not undoing this, and you can't undo it no matter what you try’ – that feels very queer to me, wherever you are.

Another way that I feel like our queerness has evolved is with our families. We are out with our nieces and nephews, they know who we are. We spend a bit more time with my family, and they love Debbie. It just feels beautifully, beautifully modern, like queer in a modern way. That's very nice that it's not special, it's not remarkable. We're not even the only queer couple in our family. To be able to be part of a modern family that includes queerness, where it's not remarked on at all, nobody ever blinks an eye, it just is. Like, ‘this is my person’ and it is accepted and vice versa.

Debbie: I think the relationship, has in part made that possible, I think feeling secure in each other's love extends outward to others.


How has your queerness evolved within your relationship, and also as you’ve grown older?

Tom: I understand feeling the pressure, and I think if that's not what you want, you don't have to do it! We were monogamous for six years and I loved it and I think it was a crucial thing for us to build trust. Then we decided to open up the relationship. Whatever you decide, I do think if you're with someone and they're interested in non-monogamy and you are not, it is a discussion better had than avoiding, because that could cause resentment.

What helped us most in those conversations was looking at why you feel pressure and why you want to be monogamous. If they feel like good and healthy and well-explored reasons, then I think that can relieve the pressure of a situation, to be able to say “I know what I want and I know why I want it”. Often in a relationship, we say, “I want this thing”, and then when it's unpacked we find we might actually want something different. I wanted monogamy in our early relationship and that is fine and that really is what I wanted at the time.

But I think what I eventually realized is that I actually wanted to feel unconditional love. I think Shugs has shown me unconditional love. And so then monogamy or non-monogamy becomes sort of irrelevant. It might not be monogamy or non-monogamy that you are searching for. Maybe it is, or maybe it’s something else.

The best service you can do yourself is to try to understand what that is, and the rest will become clearer.

Shugs: Something I would also say is that, there are different ways to do non-monogamy, and it can be helpful to research what they are in case there is a version that might work better for you. Many people have a preconceived notion that in an open relationship you are constantly sleeping with other people or you're always on dates, and there can be a bit of a rush for that at the start. But something we said to one another when we decided to go open was that at any point we can put it on ice. We also tried to consciously open our relationship at a moment when we did not feel we had an "issue" to solve. We waited two years because we wanted to feel secure and like it would add something rather than take something away.

Tom: Our six years of monogamy taught me that a relationship like that can stay especially interesting if you are curious with one another and curious about the world together. 

We've both changed so much over the course of our relationship because that's the nature of being queer, but also I guess being alive? I think we both felt nervous to commit to something that seemed so solidifying as marriage, so one of our vows was to commit to changing together.

Whether you’re monogamous or non-monogamous, a relationship is about finding someone to change with. So be open to change in monogamy. That to me is the key to a relationship’s success.

As a gay man slash queer person, sometimes I feel pressure to be in a non-monogamous relationship. What if that’s not what I want?

This is a great question! As a sex educator, people often come to me thinking that sex is the ultimate goal. People are right to assume that the foundation of my work is centered around sex, but a big misinterpretation is that does not mean the act of sex is centered. There are a plethora of topics under the sex education umbrella and one of them is intimacy. The media has derailed the true meaning of intimacy by linking it to a means to have sex. One of the first discussions in my classrooms is that intimacy never has to be sexual. Intimacy is the act of sharing time, space and connection with one other person or group of people.

This means there are so many forms of intimacy that are not sexual. One that I think is often overlooked is getting to know someone. In order to get to know someone on a deeper level, trust is required. Intimacy and trust go hand in hand because if someone does not feel safe enough to share their life, they will not share and intimacy will not be established. 

Being let into someone else’s world inevitably will bring you closer to that person or people. 

Generally speaking, people will take their time to open up and share aspects of their lives, but when they do it opens the door to a deeper connection. When you know more about a person, you can express care, love and thoughtfulness based on how they want to receive intimacy rather than what you think is best. There are a few things you can do to spark conversation and connection ranging from least to most physical:



Make a meal together: Cooking provides an opportunity for collaboration and connection. Cooking together can make you feel connected by sharing likes and dislikes with food, an opportunity to make each other laugh and work together towards a common goal. Cooking also takes patience and is great practice for decision making, as you have to figure out what you will make and where it will happen.

Share an activity: Inviting your friend or partner to share in an activity that you enjoy is another great way to establish intimacy. Sharing something you love to do with another person requires vulnerability as they are going to witness you participating in the sport/hobby/activity. You will likely have to explain the rules or how things work if they have never participated and also work with them to understand how it works. For example, if you love knitting, you can share why you love knitting and explain how to make a certain stitch. Seeing someone take interest in your interests is a lovely way to feel closer to someone.

Go for a walk: Being outside is already great for your mental and emotional health, doing so with a partner(s) or a friend will only increase serotonin levels. If you are both comfortable, try holding hands (maybe not the whole time as palms get sweaty lol). This is a great way to be out in nature while also talking about whatever topic under the sun.

Cuddle: Another activity is cuddling, cuddling is also linked with being a form of foreplay but it doesn't have to be that at all. Cuddling is a great way to address skin hunger, a longing sensation typical for so many people to experience when they have not been touched in a very long time. You can set a literal timer, cuddle for the duration of a movie or just until someone has other plans.

Sexual intimacy isn’t a prerequisite for a meaningful relationship because its not foundational to what is necessary to have a meaningful relationship. What creates a meaningful relationship is trust, vulnerability and connection, these principles can be present in any relationship, not just sexual relationships.

What are some non-sexual forms of intimacy for asexual daters like me?

The short answer is: no! Assuming pronouns without consent risks a lot of harmful impacts for a number of reasons. Some people don’t use pronouns. Other people choose to only share their pronouns with those they’ve gotten to know more closely.

Everyone is different, which is why it’s best practice to wait till you’ve talked to the person about their particular relationship with pronouns. 

If someone doesn’t have pronouns listed on their profile, use their name. If you’d like to know their pronouns, ask them directly.




If someone doesn’t have their pronouns listed on their profile, can I just assume it’s they/them?

Debbie: This is a really important question to me because, with Roxane, I was experimenting with trust. I think it's unrealistic that anybody trusts somebody from the get-go. But I have a lot of trust issues, so I would say that I was trying to do my best with Roxane not to test her to confirm her trust. I was really trying to let it develop naturally without rushing to be sure that she was trustworthy because that wouldn't have done much to build trust. I was trusting in the process more, without seeking constant reassurance from Roxane.

So for example, because our relationship was long distance, especially at first, Roxane was very reticent about sharing things. For the first two months, she didn't give me her cell phone number. We were communicating completely through email and the occasional phone call. 

In the past, with other people, I would've been much needier about getting the phone number, about giving myself some false sense that things were moving faster than they really were, because I would see that designation or that sharing at that point as proof of trust being developed.

But rather than do that, I waited for her to feel comfortable. My asking wasn't really going to ensure that we were closer than we were at that time. When she gave it to me, then I knew she was ready to give it to me, and that felt really, really good and like a step towards trust.

I don't know if Roxane feels the same, because we've never really discussed this aspect of that waiting, but my guess is that it gave her a sense of being able to trust me because I wasn't pushing her to do something she wasn't ready to do yet.

Roxane: From my end, it's not that I was withholding my phone number, at least not consciously! It was because I'm a writer, and so I'm more comfortable with sending a good email. I felt like the best way to woo Debbie was going to be via sending really great emails.

Debbie: Oh, but you weren't sending really great emails! At the beginning, when I asked Roxane if she wanted to go on a date with me, her response was, "Sure."

Roxane: Yeah, no, before our first date, I was dismal. I really wasn't doing it deliberately, but I wasn't on my A-game. So she's correct. But after our first date,

I think one of the key ways we built trust and emotional intimacy was that we did the things we said we were going to do and followed through.

Long distance can be very challenging, but we were very fortunate in that we could see each other twice a month. I don't think we ever canceled a trip, which matters because sometimes people are like, "Oh, I'm hung up at work." We made time for each other. Debbie was particularly flexible – she moved to heaven and earth to see me in Boston for our third date. It meant a lot that she created space for me and was consistent with that.
I'm not great on the phone, and honestly, I don't think Debbie loves talking on the phone either, but we like regular check-ins. So we would text throughout the day, once I did give up the number. I would also send cute little emails like, "Here's everything you need to know about me," but fun. She really put in the effort, and I did too, and that was great. Before we met, we each had a life, but she had a particularly vibrant life and friend circle that she had – I think quite deliberately – cultivated because she was choosing not to be in a relationship and to prioritize herself.

Debbie: Part of why I was intentionally single before dating Roxane was I felt I was mostly with people to fend off feelings of insecurity, or unlovability, or a sense of not being worthy. That work on myself ahead of time allowed me to be able to sit with the sense of insecurity in those first months of being in a new relationship without testing Roxane to feel more secure. So the way that I built trust was to deeply stay in a feeling of… not “mistrust”… but waiting and not pushing a false sense of trust. 

It's like, when you ask for reassurance over and over again, if you don't feel it inside, the reassurance is just going to dissipate.

You're going to metabolize it and it's just going to go away until you need more. It becomes this sort of addiction. In the past, I would have been much more like, “I need to confirm that she really feels this way!” This time, I just let things move forward. After a while, consistency, reassurance, acknowledging insecurities, and honesty are what built the trust.

How did you build trust and emotional intimacy when you first started dating?

This is such a great question, and I love how intentional you are about having conversations, especially in the beginning. 



Having bisexuality listed in your profile is a great first step and will open the door to a deeper conversation.


When approaching this conversation, ask yourself, “What is it that I really want them to know?” Oftentimes, when I’ve circled back to have deeper conversations with a date around my sexual orientation, it was because they identified differently, and I wanted to ensure that they didn’t have any misconceptions about what that meant for me. In general, you can have the conversation by just giving them a reminder like “I identify as bisexual and I know your profile said you identify as XYZ, I’d love to share what bisexual means to me and I’d love to hear what your orientation means to you.”

My preferred approach to those first date conversations (and to life in general, really) is to make bisexuality your entire personality. That sounds like a joke, but it’s not!

I constantly talk about being bi. I talk about it because unless I’m wearing bi flag earrings, it’s impossible for anyone else to “see” my fluidity. You can’t tell I’m interested in all genders by looking at my clothes, my partner, or even my sexual history, and the same holds true for everyone under the bi+ umbrella. Fluid sexualities don’t have external elements to make them visible, so as bi people, the only way someone will know how we identify is if we actually tell them.

Speaking of “telling”—the media often gets bisexuality wrong on screen because writers are taught to “show, not tell.” Though well-intentioned, that usually manifests in chaotic characters hooking up with multiple people and wrecking their relationships along the way. While entertaining, this trope positions bisexuality as a behavior rather than an identity, which is 1) a bummer, 2) factually incorrect, and 3) very invalidating to all the bi people who haven’t done said behavior yet. (As a reminder, no matter who you’ve slept with, you are queer enough.)

On the bright side, bad bi representation also means that when you share your bisexuality with someone, you’re not just doing them a favor—you’re single-handedly advancing bi visibility and moving mountains for your community. Talking about your queerness may feel uncomfortable at first, but each time you own your identity, you’re granting someone else the courage and permission to do the same.

Before I came out, I was terrified. Would I have to bring up my sexuality all the time just to feel seen? It turns out the answer was yes, but I didn’t hate it, and now I actually think it’s fucking beautiful. How wonderful to have an excuse to talk about queerness! How honored I am to explain what this glorious word means to me! I love my bisexuality because it’s expansive, complex, and challenges so many status quos at once. 

For me, bisexuality isn’t just about who I sleep with—it’s a lens through which I see the world.


All that is to say: If you’re on a date and you need a carefree opener, you can always discuss queer theory for 30 minutes! (Call me if you need backup, I got you.) If that’s not your style, you can simply find a moment to say something along the lines of “Actually, I’m bi!” A good date might ask what that label means to you—a question that’s pretty much guaranteed to start an amazing conversation.

It’s on my profile, but is there a right way to navigate the initial conversation around my bisexuality on the first date?

Angel: In some corners of the queer world right now, for you to be monogamous can be seen as radical. There’s often this idea that as a queer person it’s compulsory to be open to being poly. Something that was big for me in this relationship was talking about the subject early on. For example, what our comfort level would be if we were, hypothetically, to be in a non-monogamous relationship – not necessarily with one another, but generally. Talking it through, we both felt that we wanted a monogamous relationship to start, to see what it would feel like to focus on building a strong foundation between us and keeping the conversation open for later, be it in 3 months or years later.


That felt like a useful conversation to have early on because, in other situations, I have fallen into suddenly dating someone in a monogamous relationship, then a year and a half in and we're stressed about not feeling able to share around that subject. For that reason, we try to keep a continued space for talking about it. We’ll bring up close friends’ relationships that we admire, who have their own arrangements that change over time. Or we’ll talk about how we feel when we're attracted to somebody in a way that feels safe for us because we also have parameters.

We might say “that person's hot because of this reason” or “I feel attracted to this type of person now, and I didn't realize that before.” We talk about types or if we don't have types. We try to be supportive of that with one another: “OMG, I can see that for you. I love that.”

For us, levity is important in monogamy. We try to process it in an enjoyable way. We do role-playing in a non-sexual way about our identities, which is really fun. We have different characters that are typically different genders or body types. So it allows us to see how we feel playing out these roles, exploring little aspects of how we feel about ourselves.

Being in a monogamous relationship with Ash has actually allowed me the space to really think about my sexuality and gender identity. I think the safety of this particular relationship, where we’ve worked hard to build trust and independently slowing down my pace of life has allowed for that exploration and reflection. It’s very new for me, which is awesome and really gratifying. It’s like, when I’m not focused on dating multiple people, I get to spend some time going inwards rather than thinking about how other people perceive me.

Ash: I think as the partner of someone who's exploring their identity, a sense of curiosity is really important. Many of my friendships are with people who have transitioned, are transitioning, are thinking about their transness and queerness, or how their gender and sexual identities are evolving. And so that vocabulary and understanding is always developing. There have been times where Angel shares something with me and I’m like, "Oh, my friend felt a similar thing and this is how they explained that to me." And Angel is like, “that’s actually a really helpful way of framing that." It’s really helpful to be in a community where there is so much language around queerness, because that way you aren’t having to go through anything alone. But overall, I would say the biggest thing in holding space for your partner when they're figuring these things out is just listening and affirming them.

How do you hold a safe space for exploring sexuality and identity in a monogamous couple?

Angel: I've had many different versions of what integrating into one another’s intimate circle, family, and friends can look like. My natural state is to hang out with that new person I'm dating constantly, so in the past, it felt easier and more fun to integrate them quickly. Like, "We've been dating for a month. Come on vacation with me and my friends!” But that can lack intentionality and consideration of self so sometimes down the line, it’s disruptive to have the person I'm dating be around everybody I know all the time. Merging friendship circles fast can be a version of oversharing in the same way you might verbally overshare.

Something that I wanted to do differently in this relationship is take my time in integrating – because of that natural disposition I have to bring someone splashing in immediately. We wanted to prioritize ourselves and where we're at and then meet the other person there.

Having a long-distance relationship for two and a half years helped put that in place and felt healthy because we had more individual lives and then applied that to how we integrate our relationship with friendships. Timing became about: "Oh, I really like you, and now I want to meet your family and friends." Waiting for a little means that you can set expectations and intentions up front, then when that moment is ready to happen, say three months in or when things start to feel more serious or secure, you’re better able to communicate around wanting to continue having independent relationships with your friends.

Ash: Social boundaries can be important. I agree that trying to put those in place is something we have done differently here compared to our past relationships. Not in a possessive way, where it’s like: “These are my friends!” But more like: “You should have alone time with your friends”. Understanding that not everyone has to be together all the time. I’ve dated people who were in my friend groups before, so I’m used to the blur between friends and exes and integrating everybody. I don’t do that anymore. I don't think that there is too soon. I think it comes down to what Angel said about maintaining boundaries, because that helps to maintain friendships and your sense of self.

I’d like my partner to meet my friends / chosen family for the first time. Any advice on timing?

Woah, that’s such a good and important question. I think it starts with recognizing what toxic masculinity actually is and actively making conscious decisions everyday to not fall into that pressure. Presenting masculine as a way to affirm one’s gender expression doesn’t need to include the toxic traits that society can associate with “being a man.”

When I’m getting dressed or cutting my hair, I’m looking at those things as surface level as I can. The clothes are just fabric that affirm my gender expression. I don’t take on any new persona or qualities or traits when I put those clothes on. I just feel comfortable in my skin and identity and that’s the extent of it.

I can understand why some masc-presenting queer people can find themselves stuck in the stereotypes of “manhood.” 

I know from firsthand experience that sometimes it feels like it’s the only way to be taken seriously. Sometimes, it feels safer to portray a version of masculinity that you’ve seen before.

Unpack what masculinity means to you. The answer to that question might help you uncover some subconscious ideas while also bringing you a better understanding of your own gender expression.

How can I present more masc while avoiding harmful stereotypes about what it means to “be a man?”

Many demisexual, asexual, and celibate people enjoy a dating life full of romantic attractions and relationships that do not culminate in sex. As it does in any relationship, it all comes down to communication. 

It’s essential to be direct from the beginning of any new connection about intimacy and what it currently means to you. 

I recommend you have a conversation early on about your boundaries. It’s also okay to say that you’re still figuring out what dating might look like, and that while you’re open to exploring and evolving, it doesn’t involve physical intimacy right now or ever. This can alleviate any misunderstandings about the possibility of sex and can help you focus on building up other facets of the relationship.

I’m demisexual. What’s the best way to set expectations around waiting to get sexual?

I love this question for so many beautiful reasons. As a person who has experienced both sides, it is great that we are acknowledging the fullness of this evolving process. Beyond the physical, your partner is probably experiencing a lot of mental shifts, too. The number one thing is to be aware of their actions, speech, and reactions toward their body before you share your own, no matter how positive, negative, or concerned.

Trans people are some of the most self-aware folks on earth because society forces us to constantly scan our presence. When your trans partner tells you something about their body, whether direct or to themselves out loud, it is their truth. Having been in mostly T4T (trans for trans) relationships, there have been many moments of learning and listening.

As you navigate having a trans partner, it’s normal to want to affirm them as much as possible, use the correct term, make sure your partner knows that they are loved, found attractive, etc. While the sentiment and effort is appreciated, at times it leaves no room for our trans partner to feel full, stripping them of the process or experience of being an evolving human. Let your partner take the lead by inviting them to tell you the things that give them joy or make them feel comfortable and then follow after.

For example, there have been moments in my current relationship or past where I tried to show my trans partner love or uplift them, but ended up affirming their bodies in ways they weren’t aligned with. I’ve learned it is their choice whether they want to accept that affirmation as positive or not. That agency not only includes what they can physically do with their bodies, but how they feel about them, and those feelings can change overtime.

The best way we can navigate a relationship that will forever move—that will stay fluid as one grows and unpacks—is to act as a cushion. 

Be a place to rest from societal pressures, a place to fall if internal expectations aren’t met, or just a safe place to sit and express or experiment with versions of their best selves. And when we start to recognize positive patterns or moments where we are in sync with our partner, that is the moment (with PERMISSION) to affirm, give positive feedback, or bring up genuine concern (if need be) about your partner’s body. The trust has been built. A foundation has been laid to invite you into yet another level of themselves.

You support and love them, period! Whether you’re trans or not, we all know the feeling of being at odds with our body, leading us to re-learn and re-examine. 

Having someone help create that space for you to comfortably explore these feelings and still be received as desirable or sexy is so pivotal.

I’ve been blessed with a man that really loves and holds me down. In the beginning of my transition when nothing of my body made sense to me, my partner would come home and share his readings and new findings on gender theory and praxis (which means to put theory into practice). This really stretched and challenged what I conceived as possible.

Having someone invested in finding the language to help me describe what I was experiencing shaped the trajectory of my transition. I may not have felt comfortable in my neighborhood or classrooms, but knew home in someone that reflected and held me. And I hope you’re able to do the same for your partner how they need it.

Relearn with them.
Offer tools and praxis.
Do the research.
Give space. And don’t ask your partner to define things they may not have answers, experience or language for yet.

It’s moving, affirming and encouraging to have someone that is willing to actively prove their investment in your life, well being, and identity.

Recognize that it’s your partner’s journey and you kinda just need to be their number one supporter. They’re gonna have some good days, some bad days, and some days where they don’t even think about it. So you just need to learn to be patient with them.

I’m forever grateful for my fiancée and how she gave me the safest of spaces to explore my gender and body. She was there for me every step of the way. I’ll never forget the day I finally told her I wanted top surgery. She just held me as I cried in her arms. I was so relieved to finally admit it to myself and take that first step towards gender affirmation.

She supported me while I fought with my insurance. She drove me to all of my pre and post op appointments. She watched YouTube videos with me of other peoples’ experiences. She emptied my drains and even wiped my butt that first week after my top surgery. She gave me exactly what I needed in those moments. She gave me space to breathe and to learn things on my own, but was also right next to me helping me get through some of the heavier moments.

I got pretty lucky with my fiancée, the perfect example of caring for a partner’s evolving relationship to their body, but my top surgery didn’t have the “perfect” results so many expect. Part of my journey became navigating voices from other people and their opinions of how my scars look. Before surgery, I knew I was prone to healing with keloid scars (raised scars from an overproduction of collagen in the body). They pose no health risk and are purely a matter of aesthetics. However, people online can be ignorant. They assume that my surgeon must have botched my surgery (which is wildly untrue, because she did an incredible job contouring my chest). My fiancée helped me filter out this unnecessary criticism. She helped me research keloid specific scar care and at the end of the day, just embraced my top surgery results because they were, and are, my top surgery results.

Patience is its own form of love. 

Don’t take certain things personally when your partner has a day or week or month where they don’t want to be intimate because their gender dysphoria is so bad. It’s important you create a safe space where they feel they can communicate that with you.

How do I navigate my partner’s evolving relationship to their body?

Tom: I think it’s important to ask yourself how you would feel if they had that conversation with you. If you feel it's appropriate and you're in that mutual space, then it's the time to have the conversation. But also, think about allowing the other person you’re having this discussion with to have a different opinion. One problem with how we see contemporary dating culture on TV shows or in dating columns is that it's always so neatly packaged. The biggest thing I've learned, being in a long-term and open relationship, which relates totally to this, is that we react differently to the same situations. And I'm always surprised at first, but then it’s like, “oh hang on, we are not one person.”

If you really, really do want to continue to date someone, you do have to accept the fact that they might respond differently to what you’re expecting.

If they respond badly, if they're not very kind, or receptive, or thoughtful, or even dismissive, then they may not be right for you because they are not prioritizing your feelings as well as their own. But if they come at the conversation from a different angle to you, that is part of who they are and you will have to work out a compromise, which is a nice, exciting part of a relationship. Allow yourselves to co-find an answer. Be mirrors to each other, too.

The reason it is often a nerve-racking conversation to have is because you are handing over your feelings to another person. So it’s okay to tell the person you're a little nervous, if that reduces your nerves. But in these situations, I always remember something Shugs said to me years ago: Whatever happens, it's always better to have been the one who feels, who tries their best to communicate that.

Shugs: That's interesting that I said that, given I was Miss Uncommunicative. When we started our relationship we had been best friends for a long time. So the stakes felt very high to move from that into something else. It was a big deal and extremely exposing to have those conversations. 

It took me years to get to the point of being able to speak honestly. I’m grateful Tom had patience for that. Sometimes the most nerve-wracking situations are nerve-wracking because someone is very important to you.

So nerves can be a good sign. For us, there was a lot of pressure and the stakes were high, that's exactly why it took so long to go official.

Tom: I remember when we did move from a friendship into a relationship, our friend said: "No matter what happens, you can't go back anyway. You can't unfeel the feelings." They were right – our friendship had changed by that point because we were falling in love with each other. So there's either having the conversation or not having the conversation, but likely the feelings remain.

I guess I’d also say: Don't feel the need to rush this moment. 

There are so many stages to a relationship and they can all go so quickly. Try and enjoy the nerves. 

Feeling nervous about having feelings for someone is an absolutely amazing feeling. That moment can be so fun.

I’m nervous to talk to the person I’m dating about making our relationship official. Any advice for approaching that conversation?

First off, I don’t think you should feel pressure to ‘prove’ to others that you are bisexual. Your confidence in your identity is what matters most. There’s no real way to ‘debunk’ the experimenting myth without pulling out receipts of the genders you’ve dated, and that is not something anybody should have to do. 

Moreover, many bisexuals may not have had the opportunity to date more than one gender, which doesn’t invalidate their sexuality. 

What’s most important in these situations is that you don’t let these stereotypes make you feel insecure about being bi, or convince you that bisexuality isn’t a valid sexual identity.

The root of the ‘experimenting’ myth comes from the idea that it is impossible to feel sexual attraction to both men and women equally; by dating both genders, you’re really just trying everything out before inevitably figuring out that you’re actually straight, or gay. However, being bisexual is so much more than just the people you date. Bisexuality is something that impacts an entire worldview, and those who aren’t bi wouldn’t necessarily understand that. Everybody acknowledges that being straight or gay impacts relationships outside of just one’s sexual or romantic endeavors; these sexualities can constitute an entire identity. In that same vein, being bi is more than just an awkward halfway point between straight and gay. Bi and Pan folx are able to see romantic and sexual beauty in all people; we’re able to fall in love with people for who they are inside, without caring what genitalia they may sport, or that gender expression they may present. This obviously impacts the way we interact with friends, lovers, acquaintances, or even strangers.

Hetero and homosexuality implies the existence of an entire group of people in which there is no romantic or sexual possibility; this obviously means that one’s approach to relationships will be different across genders, such as lesbians approaching friendship with men differently than with women, or gay men doing the opposite. Yet, when you’re bi, such boundaries do not necessarily exist. Thus, the way we approach relationships with everybody will be different and more complex than what others may understand. In this way, you don’t really need to sleep with other genders to prove to anybody that you’re bisexual. Being bi is something that is actively lived every day, throughout every interaction. So, if someone is accusing you of just ‘experimenting’, or assuring you that one day you’ll figure out that you’re ‘just confused’, take solace in knowing that these people have no idea how rich the bisexual experience is.

Oy, so frustrating! I know the feeling—



I’ve been bisexual for 34 years and people still think it’s a phase.


I’ve dated people who said I’d “grow out of” my bisexuality. I’ve dated people who said being bi was “hot.” I’ve even NOT dated people because they didn’t think they could settle down with a bisexual. (Their loss.)

But this is exactly what I love about bisexuality: the sheer concept forces people to confront their own idea of permanence. Fluidity isn’t always a pathway to something else—sometimes it’s a final destination. And the right person will be able to meet you there.

Oof. Been there bestie. When I came out to an (ex) friend in college, she told me I’m “the straightest person she’s ever met” and I’m effectively a “gold-star straight” and don’t deserve to take up space in the community if I’m just going to keep dating men. What she said is a farce. My attraction to non-men alone affirms my bisexuality. 

We must be gentle with ourselves and each other – queer people cannot gatekeep entry into the queer community. 

What she said shoved me back into the closet for several more years, and I can’t imagine how different that would have been if she listened to me and validated how I was feeling, welcoming me into the community with open arms.

Remember that your feelings validate yourself alone. We have to debunk our idea of what “experimenting” means. Having that urge and that pull towards “experimenting” is inherently queer. Straight people don’t have those urges - they don’t experience that attraction towards other queer people, towards genders like your own. In my opinion, “experimenting” doesn’t exist. These are just queer experiences. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, call them into conversation (if you have the emotional space) and challenge their biphobia.

How can I debunk the stereotype that I’m just “experimenting” because I identify as bi?

Tom: We’re non-monogamous so we also still undergo the earliest stages of relationships with other people, alongside being married to one another. Something I’ve learned from a non-monogamous practice is to self-regulate and self-manage your emotions. Early on in non-monogamy, when something happened where a rule we had agreed on hadn’t actually been broken but I was still not comfortable, I’d spend a week talking about every thought that came into my head to Shugs and then sort of lose track of what I felt. I had to ask myself: How do I move beyond that to better understand what it is I feel?

Usually it’s to really try to process whatever it is I’m feeling. Then, given time and another day or two days, what happens is that Shugs and I will be back together in the same place doing the things we always do and love, like walking the dog or having dinner together, and what I felt might have passed or I can bring it up in a calm way. Oddly, those moments have often made me feel maybe more secure in the long term because you witness the stakes, and that coming back together reaffirms the choice that you're making to be in the relationship.

Shugs: I agree with Tom to maybe not share every single niggling feeling immediately and to sit with that before you come to your partner. But also, on that, say the thing you feel and don't run away from conflict. 

Sometimes conflict has helped us work out where our lines are. 

We had certain rules that we laid out at the start that now, in hindsight, were us trying things and working out the rules as we go. I've really appreciated that process because it can be a learning experience.

Also, I work in sexual health, at an HIV charity called Positive East, so the idea of being open and communicative around sexual health is very important to me, and I see the benefits on a daily basis. Part of the work we do there is to break down stigma and shame around sexual health, particularly HIV, and the first step to doing that is through dialogue. 

Witnessing other people gaining confidence in talking about that has inspired me to be more open and communicative when it comes to my own sex life.

Something Tom and I have found useful is carving out specific time to talk about our relationship - what we’ve called a ‘relationship check in’. We then ask ourselves how we are feeling in the relationship and if there’s anything either of us could be doing more/less of, without judgment and the edge of anger. This can be a useful moment for airing any thoughts or feelings and information around sexual health, but within a safe space that is designed to be about open communication. Being open and having honest communication is essential in any relationship, including sexual relationships. It's important to establish boundaries, be open about your preferences, and maintain mutual respect.

It’s the early stages of dating, and we are seeing other people. Any tips for dealing with feelings of jealousy and communication around that?

Hmm this is an interesting question! I think it really depends on the situation and relationship you have with your ex. Let’s say you’re both on very good terms. You’re the type of friends that talk once a week. If that’s the case, I would immediately go to them and say something like:

"Hey, I matched with someone and think they’re cute. But, they’re your ex. How would you feel about me going on a date with them?"

Asking my ex how they feel keeps things open and friendly for all interpretations! However, if you and your ex are friendly but not necessarily super close, I would probably say:

"Hey, just wanted to let you to know, I matched with your ex and I’m going on a date with them."

So, when it comes to going on a date with your ex’s ex, I think the trick to avoiding any awkwardness is just being super transparent.

Because, WHO KNOWS! You might really get on with your ex’s ex and want to be partners in the future.

No matter the situation, keeping it light, honest, and clear with all parties involved is the way to go.



I matched with my ex’s ex, but we’re still friends. How should I approach setting up a date?

Angel: People can get really fixed to labels or ways of viewing themselves. I get that because we feel proud of who we are or what we've become. We’re all on this journey. But this can sometimes make things feel harder when we find ourselves in or curious about a type of relationship we haven’t had before. So, I think it’s about being open to going deeper than the label.

Recently, a queer friend told me: "I'm having a bisexual moment, and I'm dating someone that's a cis dude." They were almost freaking out about it. What felt good for that friend was asking them: “What is that like for you and this person?” or “That’s great – what attracts you to this person?” Questions that open up to the specificity of how their needs are being met, or how the relationship is allowing them to explore their desires. This can bring up ways that the relationship is more fluid than others might think from the outside. I ended up saying to my friend: "Oh, I think you're actually going to be that person's boyfriend." We both laughed because it was true.


I think you should allow yourself the same kind of grace that you’d want your friends to allow for you. 

Maybe your desire is changing or you are attracted to something different. I‘ve learned it's about being graceful with yourself about that and not feeling like you need to know it all. You don't need to have it figured out if you're attracted to somebody. Allow in that softness.

Ash: We’ve both dated men, and we've both been with different kinds of people. There can be a lot of biphobia in the larger queer culture, and particularly in lesbian spaces. Something I’ve noticed is the way that people tend to talk about bisexuality can be very binary. Like, “I've only ever dated women and now I'm going to date a cishet dude.” But that doesn’t always capture complexity or nuance of queerness. The way I use the term ‘bisexual’ is to try to reclaim it and inform people that it’s not just about liking two genders (because there aren't just two genders!), it's about attraction to more than one gender. To me, bi and pan are basically the same.


There’s an entire galaxy of genders and expressions, and ultimately, there’s no shame in exploring something different. 

We are constantly evolving. For example, the person you're dating could have their own journey of exploration and realize that they identify differently than they did before, sexually or gender-wise. Having openness for everyone's humanity and their evolving experiences is really important.

Also, it doesn't always have to be so serious – there can be a sense of playfulness. Maybe you just want to have sex with someone you’re not used to sleeping with and try it out!

I’m bisexual but have only been in same-sex queer relationships. Any advice for dating someone of another gender for the first time?

Ash: We are all born of our own experiences and everyone has different ways of how they communicate their needs and emotions. I think a simple tip is identifying how your partner likes to be communicated with. Even if it’s not your natural instinct to communicate that way, identifying their communication style means you can use that as a tool, inch towards that way of communicating, or find some kind of meeting point. 

I think you can try to intentionally establish a shared language over time, because that doesn't necessarily happen naturally.

For example, I’ve learned that Angel doesn't like when I say things a certain way that's so normal for me, but it comes off as rude or crass to them. So, it’s like, “oh, can I soften the way I say this or have more sensitivity so that my partner feels more comfortable?” I think the other thing would be having patience – it's not going to change overnight because we're so socialized into our patterns.

Angel: I think identifying your styles is key. That can mean asking them straight up, and it can also mean being down for feedback, which can be a bit of an ego test. If I were to do things all over again in this relationship and others, it would be to look at one another’s love languages and apply that to how you communicate. My love languages are acts of service and gift-giving. So I like my partner to help out. I think you can tap into these aspects of who a person is, it provides a way to get to know them better and also a basis for good communication to feel possible.

Oftentimes, communication differences result in just clashing, clashing, clashing, and then an explosion. So we can be preemptive or proactively express the desire to communicate better. 

Whether that’s straight-up asking or creating an arena where it feels safe to talk about communication outside of conflict. Maybe somewhere chill, away from where that conflict happened, somewhere neutral, like a park.

Ash: Waiting for or finding a different physical space or a different emotional space to talk about communication outside of a moment of conflict can definitely help take the conversation away from a heightened or activated state. When you're having conflict with someone, it is probably not the time to talk about communication styles!

Angel: Being down to shelf that conversation and come back to it later usually means the conversation works out better in the end.

Shugs: I access emotions from a different place to Tom, in almost the opposite way. I take my time, think a lot, and then arrive at an answer. Tom either arrives at an answer much quicker than I do or works stuff out in situ. That has been a really wonderful mix but has also caused certain issues or complications in how we each deal with situations or conflict.

A case in point is when we were friends, falling in love, but we didn’t really know that we were. We were young. Tom would say "Let's give this a go." And I would be like: "I’m not in love with you, we're just friends!" But then I did things my way. I remember being on a tour of a Shakespeare play around America with loads of students. I got the entire cast to do a flash mob for Tom as a surprise for their birthday. It was a fully rehearsed performance piece and yet I was like, “we're just friends!” For some reason, a flash mob was easier than saying “I love you”. I suppose because my communication style is more gestural?


Something I’ve learned as a person who takes more time to work out how they feel before they can communicate is that it’s helpful for me to work through certain issues by talking to someone else before I can with my partner.

I’ll often talk to my sister before going to Tom, for example, because I find it reassuring to get another perspective. Sometimes I write things down on my phone – because I get lost in thoughts and feelings, or forget things. So I think it’s useful to acknowledge how you process stuff. Maybe that's journaling away from your partner or going on a walk alone and really thinking. Respect how you process emotions and don't just let one person's way of communicating dominate. It’s taken us a long time to realize it, but acknowledging and respecting how you come to conclusions and communicate will be better for both of you.

Tom: Exactly. It’s ok to communicate differently. At times, Shugs needs me to just stop talking, and he needs to be given space to come to a conclusion. But the crucial thing – in those early stages and in late stages and in the 10-year stage of a relationship – is to work out how you deal with that, understand the other’s communication style, and ask them to respect yours too.

Roxane: Good communication is one of the foundations of a good relationship, in my opinion. Good communication can also look a lot of different ways. Debbie and I have very different communication styles. Debbie is all communication all the time. I love it. I never have to guess. If I ask her a question, I get an answer. Whereas I very much keep it all to myself. I'm never going to be the way Debbie is. We may never be fully aligned, and that's not necessarily the goal. The goal is to figure out how you can create a mutually workable way of communicating.

What has worked for us is that Debbie has been very clear about her communication needs, and I have done my very best, to varying degrees of success, to rise to the occasion. Although sometimes I have to be honest and say, “I just don't have any other thoughts on this or anything to say about that”,

So in general, I would say, do your very best to ask for what you need, because you can't get it if your partner doesn't know that you need it, and vice versa.

You don't have to become someone you're not. I'm still very quiet. I still am a bit, keep it to myself. But I do sometimes try, like when I know that I'm feeling sad or feeling irritated or whatever, to tell myself, Roxane, it would actually probably feel better to bring this up with Debbie and get her thoughts, or at the very least get comfort. And I find that that helps. I push myself out of my comfort zone, but it feels good because I know that I'm sharing my thoughts and feelings with someone who actually cares about them and therefore won't be careless.

Debbie: I would add: don't take somebody else's communication style personally, because it's generally something that is not a reaction to you, but just the way they react. It is also something that can evolve over time as you evolve as a couple.

Early on in our relationship, I remember talking to my therapist about how Roxane can be very shy about communicating her feelings, and I was like, “But she communicates them so well in her writing!”

My therapist said: "That's why she's a writer".

Suddenly it made sense, people have their own way of being able to communicate.

I thought it was something about me that was keeping her from communicating more freely, but it wasn’t. The more we share those kinds of awarenesses and learnings with each other, the better.

The person I’m dating and I communicate very differently – any tips for good communication?

First, I'd ask, what is a late bloomer to you? There is this assumption that we are all experiencing our sexuality at the same time or that everyone else is much further along, but the reality is that there is no such thing as a late bloomer. It doesn’t matter if you experience/name your queerness at six or sixty, you can’t be late or behind if there is no start time.

In a world that assumes we are all cisgender and heterosexual first, its better to lead with the understanding that we are all in various places with our queerness navigating to the best of our ability. 

As you start to date, get to know people based on who they are, and try not to compare what you haven't done to what they may have. You don't need to be shy or even hide where you are in your journey as where you are is perfect and should never be judged by anyone, including you! :)




Congratulations on taking such an exciting leap in your journey! Don’t diminish it thinking you’re late to the party. There’s no right or wrong time to come out—your pace is the only one that matters here. 

Each person is unique and has lived experiences that are special to them, as do you. Doesn’t that mean every time you date a new person, it’s a new experience? Doesn’t that mean we’re all “inexperienced” then? I invite you to lean into the novelty of your romantic connection and allow yourself to enjoy learning more about yourself and others through the dating process.




How do I navigate queer dating as a late bloomer?

I think, personally, the importance lies with how we understand what ‘coming out’ is as a process. The phrase itself can often be fuelled by more fear than found freedom because the term ‘out’ can imply a door you have to open that swings shut the moment you step out. That isolation can feel scary. I learned how to use language solely for myself. I swapped ‘coming out’ for ‘coming in.’ That way I could centre myself in this poignant and monumental moment. I often think about coming out into two separate parts: the coming out process I had internally with myself, which was an emancipation through having multiple conversations (sometimes arguments) with my body and spirit—which felt like coming home within myself. The second is the coming out process in which the “goal” was to articulate who I was to others. This part is often pushed as the most important, but I truly think coming into yourself and coming out to yourself and coming to terms with new futures and options for yourself is truly where you find freedom.

I urge everybody to ensure they are ready for it—to even question if you are doing it because you feel you would like to or if you feel you have to. Constantly check in with yourself to make sure this is something you are consenting to. Alongside that, I think it’s important to have a circle of people around you that can support you in this, whether it be emotional support whilst doing it, someone to call after, someone to read queer theories with, or someone to hug and hold if you don’t feel supported or seen in that moment. 

Community and chosen family can really come through when biological family dynamics can’t—lean on one another!

When I came out, I lost a lot. It meant, in turn, that my queerness was always something I would have to navigate through a lens of compromise. Now I wish I stuck to my non-negotiables when coming out. You don’t have to answer questions, you don’t have to sit there whilst someone questions you, you don’t have to wait and be patience and deal with abuse whilst people are ‘coming to terms’ with your identity, you don’t have to defend your sexuality or gender or presentation, you don’t have to feel like you have the answers and can give them to others. You can feel scared, you can feel exhausted, you can feel cheated for having to even go through this process. Sometimes it is engulfed in joy and sometimes it isn’t—both are okay.

Go where it's warm. It might not be the friends and family you started with, but community can hold you like nothing else. Just remind yourself there can only be room for others if first there is room for you.

Coming out is one of the most nerve wracking things on the planet. If you’re going through this right now, I feel for you. As difficult as it was, I feel like I came out on the other side more understood and loved than ever. Above all else, keep in mind that the cis and straight people in your life never had to come out to you, so you certainly do not owe anyone a proclamation of your identity. If coming out is something that you want to do and deem safe to do, then I think it can be amazing and freeing. There is truly nothing worse than keeping parts of yourself hidden, especially from the ones you love most. I am no expert, but I will share with you the process and steps I took when coming out and coming to terms with my sexuality and gender.

I recommend being real with yourself on whether or not it is safe to come out. 

If you’re worried it might affect your physical safety, housing, or financial stability, then it’d be best to pinpoint at least one person in your life you absolutely know is safe to talk to and start there. This could be a best friend, a therapist, or even a trusted guidance counselor. This person hopefully understands your circumstances and may be able to help you figure out the best steps to take.

The first person I ever told I was queer was a newer friend who had come out to me a couple weeks prior. It was one summer in high school, and this new friend of mine was a girl in a couple of my classes at music camp. I felt safe around her because I related to her in a way I hadn’t yet with my friends back home. I never even told my new friend that she was the first person I came out to, though she probably had some sort of idea, as it seemed almost every day there was some new nugget of queer culture she had to catch me up on following a I-can’t-believe-you’ve-never-heard-of-this gasp. We spent that summer updating my wardrobe, following my new favorite queer and trans icons, and catching up on tv and movies. I also spent those weeks contemplating how and when I would tell my friends and family at home about the summer I had, and introduce them to the new person I felt I was becoming. I ultimately settled on waiting until it felt like the right time, which I was convinced would never present itself, but eventually did, each at different times with the people I loved most in my life.

Visualize feeling love and belonging while being the most open version of yourself. Allow the power of that vision to give you the courage to share that part of yourself with your friends and family. Regardless of how they respond, you’ll know you’ve overcome fear and honored the most authentic vision you have for your life. I love that for you!

For many people, coming out is one of the most emotionally jarring and pivotal parts of their journeys. If you decide to, there are a few important things to keep in mind.

First, is that you are entering a new phase of your journey. You need to provide yourself grace and kindness through the discomfort you'll be facing. You're doing your best and should remind yourself of that as often as you can.

Second, think about how to do this in the safest way possible. Often, when people discuss what it means to come out, whether it’s necessary to come out, how to come out, and more, they lose sight of safety, one of the most important aspects of this process. Safety can look different for everyone and goes beyond the physical to include things like emotional safety, financial safety, or psychological safety. My recommendation, as someone who has come out several times, is to make sure that you go at whatever pace you feel is best. This could look like waiting until you have financial freedom to ensure you won’t be isolated or left stranded, or waiting until you feel you have trusting and open relationships with people around you.

Third, it's essential you understand that your identity is not a ball and chain.

Despite societal messaging and bigotry seen across the globe, your identity is a gateway. And there is a loving community here waiting with open arms to accept and embrace you on the other side of your coming out.

Coming out can start slow or be a big announcement, it can be you showing up with a partner, it can be casual or grand. It’s your story; the how is up to you. I came out via proxy. After deciding coming out was best for me, I mulled over the best way to share this part of myself I’d hidden from the world for months. I waited to be away at college in my freshman year, prepared for the worst-case scenario of being disowned by family. I had my sister play one big game of telephone, calling dozens of family members on my behalf—having a safety person might work for you, too! Thankfully, my family swarmed me with positive messages, calls, and affirmations of their love for me that wouldn't waiver because of who I am or who I'm attracted to. While not everyone will receive a happy ending, and every story won’t be as seamless, taking the time to figure out what you need to embark on this new chapter of your life is crucial.

Remember, give yourself grace, assure your safety as best you can, and know that your community is here waiting for you. You’re doing a lot better than you know!

How do you come out to your friends and family even when you’re nervous to?

To start, I’d like to congratulate you for taking on the mystery of queer flirting! Forreal though, I honestly believe flirting is one of the most vulnerable things someone can do. Flirting involves a lot of brave shit: naming your desires head on! Facing the possibilities of rejection! Telling insecurities that may arise to chill tf out! So cheers to you for wanting to up your flirting game.

Jokes aside, I don’t believe queer dating, or femme flirting, is particularly mysterious. I think queer flirting feels illusive because it rejects the hetero and cis normatively entangled in dominant cultural ideas about dating. This is a recipe for stirring insecurity and fear in naming our flirtatious desires.

For example the common belief that femme people should wait around for someone else to approach us. Yawn 🍅. When I first entered the world of queer dating, I had to give some serious attention to unlearning the gender norms making my flirting game so passive and dusty. I was also nervous to flirt because I didn’t want to reproduce the creepy or unwanted flirting I’d experienced in the past with cis straight men.

Herein lies the joyous potential of queerness: to create new ways of  dating, romancing, and flirting devoid of the tired scripts.

This brings me to my three tips to being a clear flirter: ground your confidence, be direct, and be yourself.

#1 Ground your confidence

Confidence is when we’re grounded with our sense of self, including our ability to name desires and needs, while being able to be present and empathetic with others. Confidence is embodied, meaning we can literally make the energy of confidence physically present through non-verbal cues, like our body language, gaze, or the way we say things. We can root into confidence before flirting by asking ourselves some simple questions:

What does confidence feel like in my body? (Example: Do I stand taller? Is my gaze more direct? Is my breath slow?)

What does my voice sound like when I’m confident? (Example: Do I speak more slowly?

What experiences help me access confidence? (Example: positive affirmations, meditation)

#2 Be direct

Let’s get one thing clear, directness is sexy. Directness is a green flag to others that you know what you want, and that you’re grounded enough to name it. When done through a place of confidence, it also means that if you’re rejected, your sense of self will remain intact, and you’ll end on on a neutral or positive note. Making your flirting direct can be as simple as making subtle language adjustments, like making “I” statements or taking initiative with planning dates. For example:



Do you want to hang out? → I’d love to take you out.

You’re so pretty → I think you’re so pretty. Can I take you on a date?

You’re so cool → I think you’re so cool, I’d love to get to know you more, can I take you out?

Literally saying “I’m flirting with you.” (Example, I have def texted someone “(flirtatiously asks) What’s your favorite song?”)

#3 Be yourself

I know I know, this is one of the most cliché lines in the dating book. But listen, it’s the truth! It doesn’t matter if your flirting style is goofy, nerdy, sultry, corny, soulful, or endless other styles, as long as it's YOURS. Remember, the point of dating is to find someone that aligns with your values, needs, and desires. My flirting style is sultry, but it’s also a little silly, because it’s important to me that I can laugh with the people I date. If someone isn’t into my flirting, that’s incredibly useful info that maybe we’re not for one another, and that’s ok!

Clear flirting is transformative because it can pull into reality the dating experiences we desire. It might take some practice, and a willingness to perhaps at times feel insecure, awkward, or silly. But on the other side is a sense of being in touch with our desires, which is one of the bravest and most magical things we can do.

I actually laughed trying to answer this to myself. My homegirls and I are still trying to figure this out. Being queer is so complicated and kind of annoying. But, I think that’s what makes it fun.

I’m not sure if I have a legitimate answer for how to make it clear that you're flirting other than being clear and concise. I do, however, want to encourage folks to play. 

Maybe it's my libra rising, but all I ever want to do is play. Forget whether or not the person knows you’re flirting. 

Do you feel good? Are you having fun? Are you enjoying the banter? Make a joke, compliment them directly, find a reason to ask for their help with something, don’t be afraid to look silly.

Once you relieve yourself of the weight of having to be perceived a certain way or identify/name whatever your exchange is or isn’t, flirting gets so much easier. Don’t overthink it. If you’re enjoying yourself and you both leave the conversation feeling good, you’ve done a great job, babe.

As a femme who’s attracted to other femmes, how do I make it clear I’m flirting?

Debbie: It depends on how you define physically intimate. If physically intimate means sex, then it's I guess a boundary where you have to say, “not tonight” or whatever it may be. But there are a lots of different ways to express intimacy that don't require or don't necessarily result in penetration. I'm a very big cuddler, and so I always ask, “Can I come in for a cuddle?” Roxane has never said no, but I guess she could. That's also very, very intimate. So I think a lot of this question has to do with how you interpret intimacy. And if somebody doesn't want to be intimate in a certain way, I think maybe just ask what would be okay right now to establish a level of connection.

Roxane: It could be something as simple as making dinner and setting the table. Something that Debbie does, every time we eat downstairs at our actual dining table, is light candles. There never needs to be an occasion, she lights the candles every single time. It creates a level of intimacy, it feels very romantic. When I see her light the candle, I get excited. I know we're about to have some us time. There are all kinds of things that she does for me that are just so sweet. She leaves little notes and I've saved them. At this point, I probably have a hundred, like on Post-Its. And I find them in the most unexpected places, like in my suitcase. Actually, when I say it, we are a very f***ing romantic couple.

Debbie: I like to set the table for Roxane, to honor her effort in cooking. That's just my thing. Bring out the good dishes, cloth napkins, table mats, and candles. That's the least I can do when she makes a beautiful meal. I think those things are super important. Again, just a little thing, but wherever I go, I always bring her home some little trinket just to let her know that she's on my mind. I don't think I've ever come back from a trip without something.

Roxane: All kinds of things can be intimate if you want them to be and if you treat them as such. 

It’s about creating these special moments, showing your love and affection in ways that aren't grounded in touch. Some people don't like to be touched or just for a few hours, they might not be in a mood to be touched. And I'm not even talking about sexually, just like in general. But they want to feel loved and they want to feel that intimate connection. And so you can ask yourself, ‘hey, what might work here?’ You can use your imagination. Sometimes the answer may not be overtly romantic – like I'll make sure that Debbie's car is washed and the oil is changed – but it’s an act of care your partner might not do for themselves. Small or easy things that require paying attention.

How can I express intimacy when I don’t feel like being physically intimate?

Roxane: One of the approaches that I've taken to maintaining the relationship – and perhaps “maintaining” is the wrong word – is that I'm endlessly amused by Debbie. I am endlessly intrigued by her, and all of her quirks. I find them to be a delight. I think you have to be willing to delight in your partner. Everything about her amuses me or charms me or interests me. The things that she worries about, I'm like, “That's who you are and I embrace this wholeheartedly”. I'm also a Libra, so I'm very even, and she's very much a Scorpio. I know that I am the ice to her fire, and that's great. I keep her reasonably even-keeled, and she gives me motivation to get a little spicy sometimes, and it really works out quite well. A lot of times people feel like they're tolerating their partner instead of embracing who they are, and I think that’s when maybe something has to be worked on.


I ask Debbie probably a million questions a day, which I think can be a bit grating, but it's because I'm interested in what she thinks about everything. I want to know. I think that these kinds of things manifest differently for different couples, but find ways to celebrate your partner for who they are.


I also recognized when we met that we were older, and so she wasn't going to change. I actually didn't believe she was 57, I made her show me her license, but once I understood she was 57 and I was 43, I understood that we were both fairly set in our ways. I think we’re flexible with each other, which is good, but also know that we have to accept each other as we are.

Debbie: We laugh a lot. I think that underneath all the passion, underneath all the spice, underneath all the negotiation or whatever, we really, really find each other funny and have a deep friendship. In the past all of my relationships just felt really like a lot of work, a lot of tolerance, a lot of shape-shifting, code-switching. While I do think we really work on ourselves quite a lot, my sense is that our marriage doesn't feel like a lot of work.

Something I’ve also learned in this relationship is to allow myself to be cared for by Roxane. I think that's a big thing because, in the past, I never let anybody take care of me. I was like; “I'm going to power through this, I'm self-sufficient, I don't depend on anybody.” I really depend on Roxane. I've let myself really depend on her, which is a first for me.

Roxane: That's great when you know can be not the best version of yourself and your person will still love you. When she's ailing, I love that I can take care of her and make her feel better. She can depend on me, and vice versa. Everything is vice versa with regard to Debbie, which is also great. We just have a common vernacular, and we've only been together for six years, but I still feel like it's new in some ways, steady and trustworthy while also exciting. We try to do tons of exciting stuff, which is also great. I highly recommend prioritizing fun where you can.

What is the key to a healthy relationship where both people are constantly evolving?

This is such a layered question and something that is forever changing especially in our community, but you are definitely not alone in this!!! I think as queer people we come out everyday. And on some of those days, we might be introducing ourselves in a way that feels scary or nerve wracking or uncomfortable, but I think that’s the part that can change. As you become more confident and more sure of yourself, your perspective will shift on coming out. 

I would change this question to, “Will I ever feel like I can stop being uncomfortable when I come out?” and to that I will say yesss.

I challenge you to start exploring the beautiful things that happen when you introduce your most genuine self to new folks or those you haven’t seen in a while. Yes, it won’t be all peaches and cream, but when it is a good first impression or rekindling—when it is a good connection—you will see the joy that is brought out in people privileged enough to meet and get to know the full you. It’s the same joy you bring yourself through once again coming out.

I feel, with this question, I can hear how tired you are already. Like the dot on the question mark is trying to keep itself up but it is just so tired of telling someone their pronouns, having to explain their gender, or make clear to another person that they really do fancy many more genders than one. That tiredness is real. Coming out is tiring. Sometimes we just don’t want to do it, and that is ok.

I’ve found, in a world that makes assumptions of what is normal and what is not, those of us that fit outside of certain boxes will have to come out a lot. And in my life I've had to do it a lot. At home, at work, when I start a new job, at the airport, to doctors, time and time again.


But if that feels a bit out of my control right now, I try and think of what I can gain from it. What meeting yourself so many times in a week, or year, or lifetime can bring. 



Coming out, in whatever way that may mean, equals knowing who you are—in that specific moment—enough to say it. And although that can be tiring, I simultaneously find beauty in re-meeting myself so many times throughout my life. The cycle of coming out also lets me decide that I am who I am, and check in and change if I want to.

Love this question. Even though I’m already out, I still “come out” pretty often. I love sharing that side of my life—just not all the time.

I first came out because I didn’t want to always have to worry. I was a dancer in school—jazz, tap, ballet, hip hop, everything. All it took was for someone to hear “ballet” to assume I was gay. I walked on eggshells trying to avoid giving them another reason to think it or say it. So, for me, I just had to come out to live my fullest life. As I mention in my song, FIRST HELLO, it was a new beginning. I was finally able to experience joys that only existed in a world where I was out.


These days, it’s more of a want to keep coming out. Every time I do, it gives someone else the chance to, just like another artist did for me. But does that mean I want to come out to every stranger that asks if my date is my friend? 

Do I always have the energy to unpack other people’s assumptions of my life? Yeah, that might be my friend, but why would you assume that?

You may never feel like you can stop coming out, and that can be a blessing in disguise. Your pride can inspire the same in others. But remember— it’s a privilege to see that side of you and it’s okay to protect your energy.

Will I ever feel like I can stop coming out?

Roxane: Sometimes it does feel like a relationship is going too fast. So I think you have to trust your own needs even more than trusting the other person, because why force yourself into a situation you're not ready for? It's never going to work. 

I think many people, and I would say women in particular, are reluctant to say, "Hey, let's slow down. I'm not there yet," because you worry that you're going to lose this opportunity.

But if it's the right person, you can say, "Hey, this is actually moving too fast. I'm not ready yet. I want to be, but I'm not there." Find the courage to say, "I'm excited about what we're building here, this is great, but we're moving a little too fast. I'm not ready to go see your family at Thanksgiving, we met three days ago," or whatever. They might feel some kind of way, because you're not saying these feelings in a vacuum, so you have to also give them space to maybe feel taken aback or hurt. But if they're in it, if it’s meant to be with that person, they're going to hopefully understand and be willing to give you that time.

Debbie: Moving too fast never happened for us. Our relationship developed slowly, which I think is what gave us a sense that we could trust each other. In that space of not racing, we were able to solidify and be more sure of how we felt about one another. Once you allow those moments of insecurity to pass or to resolve – ‘Is she going to call me again?’ or ‘Are we going to go out on another date?’ – and start to build continuity, at least for me, I was able to open my heart more and trust Roxane more in that regard.

This question has given me an epiphany that, in the past, before Roxane, I always pushed things to be faster, to feel more secure, but it was a false sense of security. I did that because of my own needs, not because of the other person's needs.

I think that because I was ready to allow things to move at the pace that they felt more natural, to allow for living in the moment, that ironically built more trust and security, and a sense of it being mutual, instead of my just doing everything to get us into the relationship as fast as possible.

What do I do if I feel like a relationship with someone I’m dating is moving too fast?

Bisexuality is often misrepresented, both inside and outside the queer community, as being exclusionary of trans and nonbinary folks. Many people define it as “feeling romantic and sexual attraction towards men and women,” claiming it further cements the gender binary – for me, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Bisexuality is gender expansiveness; it is the attraction towards genders like and unlike your own, and is deeply inclusive of all gender identities. It’s not about being half attracted to one gender and half attracted to another. 

Measurements of experience don’t make a bisexual, as this identity is fluid and self-affirmed. 

When my baby cousins asked me what being bisexual meant after I came out, I told them my heart was too big to love just one type of person, just one gender. For me personally, “pansexual” (as an identifier) didn’t feel right because I didn’t date gender-blind or not consider gender when assessing my attraction towards people - I relate way too hard to memes about female supremacy and being besotted with women in general to discount my gendered attraction to women. I also comfortably identify under the umbrella terms sapphic (where I got the name for my book club Sapph-Lit!), women-loving-woman (WLW), gay, and queer.

As someone in a “straight-passing” relationship, I constantly have to remind myself (and sometimes others) that my attraction to men does not discount my bisexuality but instead affirms it. Any relationship that I am in will be queer because I am queer. Do not feel you are less bisexual because you are a woman dating men or a man dating women. Bisexuality has been rendered invisible for too long because of this biphobia, and bisexual people are far less likely to come out because of this invalidation. That being said, over the years I’ve embodied my bisexuality in so many other ways: through my book club, through how I dress, through my female friendships, through how I decorate my apartment. Your queerness is more than who you date, who you sleep with – it’s a lens through which you view yourself and the world around you.

Read books with bisexual protagonists and queer theory (Greedy by Jen Winston is the perfect place to start, but I’ve included a larger list below), follow bisexual content creators on social media (TikTok knew I was bisexual before I did), journal out all your feelings, and explore dating all different types of people! Be open and honest and communicate with your partners about where you’re at and how you’re feeling. My favorite line to use when I started dating non-men was “what I lack in experience I make up for with enthusiasm.” The journey to discovering your queer identity is as confusing as it is beautiful – embrace the messiness and jump right in!

Baby Bisexual Reading List sponsored by Sapph-Lit:
“Old Enough” by Haley Jakobson
“Greedy” by Jen Winston
“One Last Stop” by Casey McQuiston
“Notes for a Bisexual Revolution” by Shiri Eisner
“Bi: The Hidden Culture, History, and Science of Bisexuality” by Julia Shaw
“Just Your Local Bisexual Disaster” by Andrea Mosqueda
“Take a Hint, Dani Brown” by Talia Hibbert
“Red White and Royal Blue” by Casey McQuiston
“Leah on the Offbeat” by Becky Albertalli
“The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo” by Taylor Jenkins Reid
“Felix Ever After” by Kacen Callendar
“Ophelia After All” by Racquel Marie
“Open” by Rachel Krantz
“Acceptance” by Emi Nietfeld
“Sirens & Muses” by Antonia Angress

How do I know if “bisexual” is the right identifier for me?

Shugs: We’re nearly ten years into our relationship, and we still find it very important to go on dates with one another. Making sure that, because life will get in the way, we are really clear about carving out time for each other that's fun. Sometimes we genuinely have to get our calendars out, because Tom is a social butterfly and there's always stuff going on. 

It can be easy to count group social time as time together, but it is not the same as quality time together. A dinner party with friends is great and fun but it’s not a one-on-one date. So I’d say book in time alone. 

We also both really value our early morning walk with Celine, our dog. We have that every morning and that's an hour and a half of just us two talking – about anything and everything.

Tom: I think the answer to keeping things fresh and exciting past those initial stages is much more mundane than “go on a roller coaster or go on a wild, sexy away weekend!” I think your love and your relationship can only continue to evolve if you are attentive with one another. We are both quite busy people, and we both have quite different schedules. 

Spending time apart allows you to miss one another and that’s great. But I also do think the practice of actually doing something a bit more routine, where you really focus your attention on one another is the key. 

I don't mean talking about the relationship, although that can be lovely. I mean talking about what’s on that person’s mind, like “is it normal to drink 5 liters of water a day”, what they are interested in, big or small, what you’re doing that week, the way the world and your world is changing around you. Your values. My practical advice is to value those moments, and I think that carving out intentional time to focus your attention on one another keeps the relationship exciting. Also, if you need more to talk about, get a dog, allotment or a baby.

How do you keep your relationship feeling fresh and exciting as it evolves?

That loving us teaches so much about love. Love should be a place of growth, of self exploration, of resisting what doesn’t feel comfortable, of transcending rules. Love must always be a place of making warm in the freezing, bringing light in the pitch black. 

Aren’t trans people those who understand all of this most? Haven’t we had to do unheard things to love ourselves loudly and publicly whilst everyone is staring? Aren’t trans people most equipped in knowing how to love because we have had to find so much of it in hate? 

Isn’t it funny that after all we have been put through, we could scream so loud all the leaves would fall off every tree in the land, and yet, instead we choose to sing something sweet enough to encourage everything to grow? How could you not love someone with a super power like mine?

I get emotional talking about trans love and dating, because the intentional act of dating T4T (trans for trans) has allowed me to feel unconditional love and consideration like never before. Trans love is sacred, it is a love that makes you aware of astronomical possibilities and ethereal connection. It is a rare connection with someone that surpasses the physical part of dating, it looks deeper.

We are given the beautiful opportunity to not only see the fullness of our trans partners but also simultaneously experience an unpacking and redefining of gender and gender expression for ourselves. It is truly magical.

Dating in general is hard. Most of my life I tried to fast forward through it as much as possible, but I have landed in a beautiful place as a trans person in a relationship with a trans person. There is an ease in trans dating that allows for genuine connection, a space where one does not have to prove their existence to be considered a suitable partner. Trans dating looks like the freedom from unnecessary labor of helping someone figure out their sexuality in regards to our gender identity. Trans dating alleviates the experience of having to disprove unkind assumptions. Instead, we just get to be, exist as a person. Though there are still very real human moments of self negativity or self doubt that will arise because of internalized phobias and isms, Trans dating still offers a unique understanding and love. When you are cared for or loved by a person, who comes from a community deemed unsuitable or unlovable, you will experience a love and a relationship that is gonna be fought for, that is gonna have effort, that is going to be whole. A relationship that feels like family.

In an attempt to not be obviously esoteric, I think one of the biggest problems I come across, dating as a black trans woman, is people's misinformation or blatant ignorance around trans women. About our bodies, our surgeries, pronouns, identifiers, our history.

I've spent so much time teaching and workshopping potential partners, and 

I wish everyone just came properly educated and polished. I wish people knew love for trans people with no hesitance or need for explanation/justification.

I think people overthink it! 

Love and intimacy is all the same, no matter what form it comes in.

That not all love has to include cisgender people, trans for trans love exists and is beautiful.

There are so many ways to be trans. Everyone’s journey is so different— there’s not one blueprint to follow. At the end of the day, all trans people need and deserve love and support despite the differences amongst us. The best advice I could give someone dating a trans person, especially if they’re cisgender, is to explore their own gender. I’m not saying they need to realize they’re also trans, but 

understand how your gender (cis or trans) plays a role in your identity. 

My fiancée is a cisgender woman, not by default, but by exploring her own gender alongside my journey.

When it comes to dating as a trans or non-binary person, one thing that I wish more people knew is that loving and dating us encourages you to explore yourself even deeper. 

Shedding the societal shackles of gender expectations and norms can be freeing, and I suggest embracing that freedom. 

We are no different than you or anyone else, but we offer an amazing opportunity for you to explore what your life can look like outside of narrow views of gender performance. Although we aren't tools for teaching you about yourself, I encourage you to be open to learning from us.

What’s one thing you wish more people knew about trans love and dating?

I’ve had a lot of shame about feeling like I don't fit in or fit certain standards or stereotypes. And then I had to do a lot of work to be like, 

‘No, you're gorgeous. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're worthy’ – and even though no one was telling me those things, doesn't mean that it's not true. 

You don't have to wait for the validation. You can actually find it in spaces where people are going to lift you up and embrace you for just who you are; not because you bring value, just because you are just being. 

So seek out avenues where you’re able to understand that and have that reflected back to you. That is so important at any age or stage in your dating life.

I wished I had some sort of mentorship around desire and dating, especially as a person of color. In some spaces, you look around and see a sea of very quintessential, beautiful, hot, muscular, cis white people, and you're kind of like, ‘Where do I fit into this?’

Don't be afraid to find different avenues to connect with people who are having those similar experiences and feelings around race and dating. And when you do seek out those people, don't be afraid to be honest about what experiences you're having. Leaning into community groups based on your interests, and finding people I could have these intimate conversations with – and I don't just mean romantic or sexual, really just relating to people intimately in general – helped me push through that feeling of shame about feeling like I didn’t fit in.



Oof. This question hit me hard. From day one, every single one of us gets these messages from the larger society about who we are supposed to be in order to be found desirable, valuable, and worthy of love. As a Black Trans Masc person, I’ve had my share of desirable boxes I don’t check and held a seat in many spaces where I never felt like I belonged.

What helped me on my journey is the realization that while the larger culture may try to hand down certain standards, I do not have to uphold them. The moment that I rejected those standards and cultivated new ones, that’s the moment I entered into a new agreement with myself about honoring my own vision of what is beautiful and meaningful. In that new agreement, I honor my authenticity instead of trying to be like anyone else. 

So I’ll say this to you with the love of a friend. Friend, your love is too big and your dreams are too full to fit inside of society’s tiny boxes. You’re not meant to be like anyone else, and the love you seek will find you. You can help by ensuring that love can see you, all of you.

This is the truth that I’ve found, sitting at the intersection of many often marginalized identities:

Unless we allow people to know us authentically, they can’t love us unconditionally. That means we must allow ourselves to be seen for our uniqueness, our weirdness, our ick, our strangeness, and our differences.

That’s the only way people with the same differences as us can find us.

Every day, as a black kid growing up on the south side of Chicago, my mom would send me out the door with an affirmation because she wanted me to be proud of who I am. Those affirmations stuck with me, and I’ve started to do this with my child. I say “Shine your light!” I tell them this every day because I don’t know what they may encounter in a world that might see them and think they're weird for having queer parents. Every day, they return from school smiling, bouncing, and eager to tell me, “I shined my light!!”

Today, I am telling you to shine your light so you may be seen by all the souls who are seeking the exact gifts, energy, love, and beauty you’re offering the world. Shine your light! I wish you well.

How do I overcome the feeling of not fitting in when it comes to race and queer dating?

When I was dating on Hinge, I made sure my bisexual identity was front and center on my profile. One of my photos was a selfie of me wearing massive dangly earrings that said BI with the bi flag colors in a rainbow (I designed them myself!) and I of course had “bisexual” as my sexuality on the app and made sure it was public in my profile. I did this for several reasons: 1) Some people are biphobic and aren’t interested in dating bi people, and I don’t want to date those people! Whatever preconceived notions they have about bisexuals, it’s not my job to convince them otherwise and potentially traumatize myself in the process. 2) My bisexual identity isn’t a “big reveal” that I have to share with people on the first date. I wanted whoever I was going out with to know what they were getting into and meet me where I’m at, whether that was with genuine, respectful questions or sharing their own experiences as queer people and/or dating queer people.

When I started dating non-men for the first time, the heterosexual romance script that was shoved down my throat for years was suddenly irrelevant. 

That’s part of the beauty of dating as a queer person: you get to write your own script, make up your own rules, and not feel pressured to follow the heteronormative relationship escalator that’s been laid out for us our whole lives. 

That being said, it can be SO scary to go on your first queer date!! “How do I know if he/she/they like me?”, “How can I tell if they’re flirting with me?”, “How do I flirt back?” Let me take you through my pre-first date ritual!


Eat!!! Most first dates were after work drinks and started between 6-8pm, (a.k.a. smack dab in the middle of prime dinner time (for me at least)). Sometimes I would get so nervous before first dates that I wouldn’t be able to stomach a full meal, so I had my Go-To Filling Snack: baby carrots. Find your snack and eat up beforehand! Nourish your body and you’ll be more present on your date.
Dance!!! While getting ready, I would put on a playlist full of songs that connected me to my most authentic self. For me, that’s a lot of classic rock, ABBA, Taylor Swift and One Direction. I would turn the speaker volume all the way up and dance away all my nerves. Move your body, sing along, and shake it out!

Wear an outfit that makes you feel hot and gay!!! You’ll look hot no matter what, but finding an outfit recipe that makes you feel your best is key so you’re not panicking last minute about what to wear. For me, I wore big pants and a tiny top and some sort of chunky boot or sneaker. Comfy, cozy but still sexy. Find your perfect outfit recipe and do not feel bad about repeating your outfit for multiple first dates - I promise I won’t tell.


Get your friends to hype you up!!! I would sometimes FaceTime my besties while doing my makeup to brief them on the date ahead and get them to compliment me excessively. See yourself through the eyes of your friends and accept their love and affection!


Remember that if the date sucks you can just go home early and eat some chips!!! The person sitting across from you is so lucky to be hanging out with a hot, funny, wonderful bisexual human. They are basking in your light!! If you end up not vibing with the other person on a queer date, it doesn’t make you any less queer, it doesn’t make you not attracted to genders like your own; it just means that person wasn’t for you. Get back on the horse and try again.


Remember that just because you’re going on a date with this person and you’re bisexual does not mean you have to do anything you do not want to do. Bisexuality often gets labeled as slutty, greedy, and promiscuous. I myself, have been put in situations where that behavior is expected of me. That behavior is not inherently negative or shameful, and you should feel empowered to do whatever feels right, but remember that you’re just there to meet a new person and see if you want to meet them again. Have fun and be safe!!

Any first date tips as a bisexual person?

This question feels like something of a trans legend or folklore—“a tale as old as time.” At least it does for me, whose first experience and proximity to the trans community was mostly from behind a screen. I’ve been enthralled and greatly shaped by the dolls on TV, movies, and a myriad of ballroom clips and docs. That is to say, I feel like we all grew up on these stories until we knew the experience for ourselves. And for many of us, “hesitant” is only the beginning.

Like on that sweet summer night I danced with a man till the last drink was served, and all at once, the lights were bright enough for me to have the conversation. He drew the words from my mouth like they were never mine to begin with.

Or the time a man found himself under every one of my selfies and in my dms, and just as quickly found his exit once he clocked tea.

The way I’ve held my breath every time a man has got at me in public.

The minefield a grocery store or bank can be is almost comical.

Far too often we fall experiment and or detriment to our straight and hetero counterparts. I’ve spent a lot of time being afraid and hesitant for so many extremely valid reasons, but that same hesitance stagnated a lot of my growth and happiness. That’s why my biggest advice to a trans woman who has matched with someone who identifies as straight and is hesitant or scared, online or in person, is to remain strategic, level headed, and autonomous.

I can’t stress enough the prioritization of trans joy and safety/survival, and that starts with us being willing to take up/make that space for ourselves and accept nothing less. 

I promise the most sexiest thing you could ever be is confident. So, no matter how fish or brick you are, walk into every room like you own it, know what you know your worth is, and you dismiss anything less. Be unwavering in what you deserve. Know that you are in control of the conversation.

As a trans woman, there will always be straight men who want to talk to you. When they do, remember you owe no one (romantic or platonic) an explanation, justification, or general education about your gender sexuality or body. And you, like the rarest,baddest b**ch in the room. Period.

I’ve matched with someone who identifies as straight...and am feeling a little hesitant. Advice?

Since there are so many misconceptions about what it means to bisexual, I’ve wondered about the same exact thing. While not everyone thinks this way, so many people’s first thoughts are something like, “Does that mean you could be with a man and woman at the same time?” Or, “Are you sure you’re not just confused?” Even casual questions like which girl I think is the hottest on a show remind me being bisexual isn’t something everyone “gets” right away.

I totally understand those who decide to keep their bisexuality private until they feel comfortable enough to share. If you’re someone who's decided to wait, I’d maybe bring it up within the first couple dates. In some situations, waiting a long time only puts more pressure on you and the person you’re telling, turning what could be a moment of deeper connection into something else.

I prefer to be upfront. I spent a good portion of my life feeling shame and guilt around the topic of sexuality and I don’t want to let that affect my choices while dating in the future. Having my sexuality “visible” on my profile helps me and my dates avoid confusion. And while that kind of openness is hard at times, 

putting everything on the table means I’m connecting with someone who truly understands, and wants to be with, all of me. It’s also a great way to build trust at the beginning of your relationship, which is super important. 

I’m still fairly new to dating, and I’m still figuring things out. But one thing I do know? Everyone has their own journey and knows what works best for them. Trust your gut!

I’m a man and I matched with a woman. Any tips for when/if I share I’m bisexual?

I used to think that intimacy in dating had a set ‘order of operations’ — a ‘decorum’ where you have to pace how you get to know someone out with time. Like there’s some sort of arbitrary timeline around when certain conversations, or actions should happen. But over time I’ve learned that actually, that's not true and kind of silly.

I think a lot of people worry, ‘If I talk about sex or what I like on the first date, or that I have sex on the first date, does that mean I’m a slut?’ First of all, no – you are able to relate to someone in any way that you want to. 

As long as there is mutual respect and consent there, I think it's really important to feel free to figure out intimacy in your own way, and not worry about this idea that you're not doing something in the correct order.

It's really the pace that you and that person decide on together. 

And you should feel empowered by not only yourself, but also with the other person to be able to go deeper when you want to and to ask questions when you want to.

Now when I meet someone, everything is on the table. 

Because intimate connection is really just to know someone, and the act of having to open up to them. And to intimately know someone is to understand real things about them: 

Like, what are your political views? What are your views about sexuality? How do you relate to your family? How do you relate to your friends? Do you have a diverse group of friends?

It’s important to feel comfortable knowing that there doesn't have to be an energy of shame around opening up, or doing or saying something ‘too soon’. 

You're actually just trying to figure out how to relate to someone.

I love this question so much! I try not to be prescriptive when it comes to dating and intimacy (physical and emotional) timelines because every relationship is so different. I’ve had connections that instantly felt like I’d known them for lifetimes, and the comfort level I felt in my body when I was around them…bay-bee…I was not the same after them. Then, as quickly as those relationships started, they ended, leaving this lasting imprint on my heart. I still write poetry about some of them. Then, I’ve had long-term relationships that were slow burning, building momentum like a quality fire. Those relationships may not have been passionate and fiery early on, but the closeness became like the best kind of friends and lovers over time.

My go-to rule regarding the dating flow is this: 

“If it’s fast, make it deep. If it’s slow, make it deep. If it’s just right, make it deep.”

Often, when we are moving at lightning speed in a relationship, feeling that whirlwind of hormones and emotions, not coming up for air for days, we don’t go deep in our knowing of a person; we just ride the depths of how we feel. Those deep feelings and a deep knowing of someone are two very different things. So, instead of saying what is too fast when it comes to intimacy, I’ll tell you how you’ll know if you’re rushing.

How do you feel about the pace?
If you feel like things are too slow, too fast, or just right, that’s one indicator of what needs to happen with the pace of the connection!

Do you feel grounded in the connection?
If you’re feeling grounded, chances are the speed is a pace you feel comfortable with. The caveat is that if you’re used to fast-paced relationships, a slower speed may feel uncomfortable at first. Consider the other questions too!

Do you know who they are when they’re not with you?
If your answer is “no,” you may not have a holistic view of them, and you should consider spending time getting to know them more fully.

Do you know what their other relationships are like?
Do they know who you are outside of them?
Have you all talked about your standards for relationships?
If your answer is “no,” slow things down and really focus on co-creating some standards and agreements for the relationship. Every relationship needs standards to operate smoothly, regardless of the type or intention.

Can you maintain the pace of this relationship long-term?
If your answer to this is “no” then you should consider switching to a pace that is built to endure, especially if your goal is a long-term relationship

Can you balance the pace of this relationship with your other important relationships?
If your answer is no, reconsider the pace of this connection.

After considering these questions, you will likely have a better idea of whether you want to shift the pace of your relationship. You could even have your boo explore these questions too.

Is it just me, or do you feel a rush towards queer intimacy too?

I share this hesitation, but I’m very open! The same way I would be hesitant to date someone with little sexual experience or relationship experience, or someone much younger than me,

I would definitely want to move with extra intention.

This is not to take away from the person’s sexuality, but more so to protect my own heart and the success of the relationship. I personally went through a lot of shame and volatility during my first queer experience, and supporting another partner through that could be hard. It really just depends on the specific person. I’d want us to get to know each other well and understand each other’s perspectives, experiences, and intentions.

I’m hesitant to be someone’s first queer experience. Is that fair?

Tom: I changed my pronouns to they/them and told Shugs I was nonbinary six years ago. I was nervous about telling Shugs, especially as there weren’t many nonbinary people in our lives or friendship circle back then. I remember him saying, “I love you and I support you." But he also asked, "What does that make me, in terms of my sexuality?" From my perspective, as the person who changed the pronoun, I hadn't thought that other people in my life, including Shugs, would have opinions and feelings on it.

In hindsight, I think it’s natural for the other person to have questions. But there’s probably also a line where they do have to support you. And if that support is conditional then they're not being supportive enough.

I guess it's also useful to a degree to accept that, at a moment of change, things might be said that aren't what’s true or what will remain true. Consciously opening a space of exploration and forgiveness and speaking that aloud is good. So something you can do to try to encourage that is to start out by saying: “I feel like my gender identity is changing and evolving, and I'd love to share it with you. I understand that you might have mixed feelings about that. I'd love it if you could try and be sensitive, but also, let's open a place where we can properly discuss it and forgive each other for things that might come up right now.”

We discussed it for a hot minute and questions did come up. Then you go to bed together and you wake up and you're just the same people. In the end, very little changed between us, but what did change was that I felt like I needed to get to know more trans and nonbinary people. That was something Shugs was supportive of, and I think that’s a great way to support your partner – by understanding that their needs might shift.

Shugs: I think for the person that's receiving that information, like me, it's important and may sound obvious, but to really listen and not immediately start picking it apart. Give that person the space to talk, take it on board, and don't feel like you have to have an answer or response in the moment. Then do your work on the side as well. Don't expect that person to teach you about gender identity if you don't know anything about it. You can also do that work yourself.

How did changing pronouns and gender identity labels change your relationship?

Ash: This question made us both laugh because as queer people we often talk about it very quickly. I feel it’s a queer trope that when you meet someone, you're like, ‘this is my trauma and this is what happened with all my exes!’ It didn't exactly go like that with us, but I do feel like maybe I'm a chronic oversharer – I've always been open with that information.

Angel: It hasn’t been like that for me. I was in a previous relationship for two years where we couldn’t talk about it at all because we struggled with communication around dating history. With Ash, I wanted to approach it differently. When we met I felt like, ‘I want this person in my life in any form, it could be friendship,’ and so I kind of blurted it all out. I talked about all the people I was dating in that moment because I was feeling really free. I will say for me, that felt really special, because it meant we naturally felt really comfy and it was easy. That was new for me. So I think it depends on the person.

Ash: It's so circumstantial and contextual when you're first meeting someone, you don't want to trauma dump or get into the nitty-gritty right away. I think being able to talk about dating history can be a sign of having open communication, but it’s also good to ask yourself what you’re looking for. 

Do you want to establish trust first or is this a funny anecdote you're sharing or something just to share about where you've been? If you're going to share something that is traumatic or heavy, maybe wait further into a relationship to establish trust. 

If it’s casual, like ‘I went on this crazy date with someone once’ or ‘I had this experience and it's a really good story’ perhaps that’s something you can bring up sooner. You can also think about how the other person will receive the information. When I first came out, the person I was with would talk about their exes all the time, all of these really serious lesbian relationships they’d had, and I felt so intimidated.

Angel: I agree – it’s good to consider how the information will be received. I think you want to get to know the other person a bit to see what they've been through and you can work out if or how they can hold that information. Sometimes, for example, you'll meet somebody and you're the light thing in their life because maybe they're going through family stuff or heavy changes in that moment. Perhaps their mom is sick and with you, right now, they want to enjoy flirting over a late night hang.

I’ve also dated people who are still figuring out their sexuality, meaning if you’re an experienced queer person, dumptrucking your dating history might be overwhelming for them.

Before sharing, you can think about how information you might share could affect how they are feeling or their experience. Think about what they're going through as well as what feels good for you. And that's in any relationship, not just romantic. Ask questions for more context to understand the person you’re dating better so you can try to make sure that what you share feels appropriate - even thoughtful or kind - to help develop comfort around the important topic.

When is too soon to share your dating history for the first time with someone you’re dating?

Start by congratulating your friend, and being supportive of his decision to take this leap! Dating guys after only dating girls can feel scary at times, because it’s such new territory. Let him know that you’re definitely going to be there for him when things get confusing. Be sympathetic about freak-outs he may feel, especially regarding unfamiliar sexual routines, or different dating dynamics. 

Sometimes, being bisexual means you basically have to learn how to date twice, which can definitely make you feel like a teenager all over again.


Your friend may want to start entering environments such as gay nightlife, or dressing more queer-coded. Joining him on a trip to the gay bar, or offering to help spice up his closet with a shopping trip, could make him feel supported and seen. Nevertheless, keep in mind that this is ultimately his own journey. Dating men as a bisexual man is not going to be the same experience as it is for a gay man, or a straight woman. He may feel insecure about whether he’s doing the right thing; he may plunge into a bender of dating only men, or feel spooked and want to go back to dating women (assuming that is what he was familiar with). Both of these responses, and anything in between, are totally valid, and are part of the journey to becoming comfortable with dating all genders. Don’t try to give unsolicited advice, especially if you aren’t bisexual yourself, and don’t judge him for his actions. Trust that he will eventually figure it out for himself. Above all, just encourage him, and let him know you’re going to support whatever he chooses to do.

I love that you want to know how to support your bestie, and I’m so glad you asked! 

Bisexual people often encounter misconceptions about our sexual orientation that can make us hesitant to talk openly about our experiences. 

Many people rely on their friends for solid emotional support as they navigate new dating experiences, regardless of who they’re dating. I know I did!

As I think about my own experiences with friends around the time I was beginning to understand myself as bisexual, I’m immediately reminded of my early experiences dating women prior to my gender transition. I was femme presenting, and I’d primarily dated men in the past. In my teens, I had disheartening conversations with people in my life about bisexuality. I was told that people can’t be bisexual despite their stating otherwise. These negative attitudes toward bisexuality certainly made it challenging to explore my sexual orientation, let alone share it openly.

I didn’t know how to tell my best friends I was dating women, and because of the myths about bisexuality I’d encountered in my late teens, I was so nervous about how they’d respond. What I wanted most from them was celebration, acceptance, and love. I wanted to know that the people closest to me would honor who I am and who I choose to love. I’ll never forget my childhood bestie saying, “I’ll always love you, and I’m honored you shared this part of yourself with me.” The celebration and love I received from her in that moment, I still cherish to this day! I felt even more connected to her than I was before; I didn’t know that was even possible.

The same things I wanted from my friends are things most people want when they share something new about themselves. They want to be accepted, affirmed, and celebrated for being their authentic selves.

With that in mind, the best way to show up for your friend is to ensure that he knows you celebrate him and you are there to support him. Make sure to check in on him and ask for updates on the people he’s dating. Ask him how he’d like you to support him through these new experiences. If he shares something you’re unfamiliar with, lean in and say, “You have to give me the update on that, I am so curious to learn more.” Showing enthusiasm about the new dating experiences he shares with you can help communicate your investment in showing up as one of his biggest supporters, as I’m sure you always have been.

My bestie is bisexual and is new to dating men. What’s the best way to show up for him?

I have accidentally misgendered lovers before, and I know that it is my responsibility to unlearn those conditions in my brain. Because it is my responsibility, I find it incredibly important to honour that and

take accountability immediately, instead of pretending it didn’t happen

because I feel uncomfortable. I also do not like to make a spectacle of my mistake, because that might make the person I am talking to more uncomfortable, or even obliged to comfort me.

Instead, I quickly apologise and correct myself, using the pronouns that make them feel the most seen and heard. If I do not know the person’s pronouns, then I ask them what they prefer and tell them that I will use those pronouns from then onwards. The beauty of intimacy is feeling safe and free in each other’s fullness, and I always want the people I like to feel completely free in their gender fluidity with me.

How do I recover from accidentally misgendering while trying to flirt?

Even if you’re not out or don’t know exactly how you identify concerning gender or sexual orientation, you can still start to figure out who you’re attracted to. In fact, the dating process can help us to understand ourselves more deeply if we pay attention to how we respond, what we are feeling, and what we are learning about ourselves along the way. 

Try telling your matches, “I really don't know where I stand on the spectrum/ I’m not out yet, but I know that I'm queer, and I'm sure about my desire to date you." This kind of vulnerability invites more intentionality and clarity from both parties from the beginning.

Ultimately, who you date and when you date is your choice. The primary person you have to be out to is yourself. So as long as you’re clear about who you are, it’s okay to bring people into that process.




Coming out gets a lot of overemphasis in today’s discourse. I don’t believe coming out to your family/society/community should be a requirement. It’s often the first question people ask when you mention you’re queer. “Do your parents know???” Absolutely not!!!

It’s a privilege to know me, and not everyone has earned the right to know the deepest parts of me.

Especially for those of us from certain cultural backgrounds – coming out can have massive and potentially dangerous consequences. Those consequences can impact us forever. For many of us, we have to prioritize our physical safety, financial security, and housing before we can share our sexuality.

I wasn’t out to the world for the majority of my life, and even now while in a serious three-year relationship, I’m not out to most of my family, including my parents. For me, it was more important to be seen in other ways by my loved ones before coming out. That said, having a partner and not being out has been an exercise in communicating boundaries. My partner is totally okay with me not being out to my family and not introducing her to my family at this moment because she understands the relationship I have with them and how I’d like to grow with them before coming out.

Dating if you’re not out is totally okay!!! Just make sure to communicate to your partner(s) what your feelings are around coming out and boundaries you have with different people in your life.

I think it’s a struggle for many people. So, if this is on your mind, know that you aren’t alone. I grew up in a society that was not open to queer people. I knew in my mind I was queer, but I spent years not knowing if I was ready to come out. Through that journey,

I learned coming out is a process and you shouldn’t feel the pressure from anyone to rush it.

However, there are things you can do to test the waters without fully diving in.

I think that if you’re ready to date, but aren’t ready to put yourself out there online, you can always make new friendships and relationships “IRL.” Go to queer-focused, local spaces: bars, the beach, queer-owned shops, queer author book signings, whatever feels comfortable. Introduce yourself to someone, make a connection, and see where it goes. Who knows, they might be able to match you up with someone! Personally, I met people through in-person events and work spaces!

If you’re still figuring things out and not ready to date, just make sure you nurture yourself with good people around you so you feel comfortable when the time is right. The more like-minded people you surround yourself with, the more your confidence will grow.

How can I start dating if I’m not ready to come out?

I resonate with this question so deeply. The beauty of exploration is that we get to be intentional about what feels aligned with not only who we’ve been, but who we are now and are soon to become.

When my partner and I began dating eight years ago, many of the traditional narratives and structures for relationships didn't include us. While that was sometimes challenging, it presented me with an opportunity to reimagine what my relationships could be like outside of traditional boxes. It gave me the space to evaluate how I wanted to love and be loved vs how I felt I should. This was liberating. There are many ways to explore and structure a polyamorous relationship. 

I invite you to think of polyamorous and non-monogamous as identities and/or ways of structuring relationships⏤not "lifestyles". 

This shift in thinking can help you explore if you desire intimate romantic and/or sexual partnerships with more than one person. If the idea resonates with you, it's confirmation that you have an interest in relationships beyond monogamy.

I encourage you to learn more about the ways other people are already navigating non-monogamy. Some choose to maintain a primary relationship with multiple secondary connections. Others may form a “polycule”—multiple relationships at once that may or may not overlap. Some are even self-partnered! See which relationship structures feel aligned with your vision for your life.

Then, talk to potential dates openly about your desires. Try asking a question like, “I want to openly explore non-monogamous relationships with the people I date. Do you have any experience or interest in non-monogamy?”  You might find that others are also figuring it out or have something helpful to offer from their experiences.

Lastly, just like with monogamous relationships, you’ll make adjustments to how you manage relationship boundaries by putting all of your new knowledge into practice. This could look like laying out communication expectations about new partners or dates, or setting up times to check in about how things are going.

I’m interested in exploring non-monogamy. How can I figure out whether it would feel good for me?

Dating is full of assumptions, right? We click. We look. We try to come up with a witty question response. We click. We match. We hope this time it feels great. We try again. All whilst making a lot of assumptions, crossing our fingers we find someone who makes whatever part of our brain act all loved up switch on.

Does this person’s pose look like he will want to move to the country with me in four years?
Does this guy's shirt colour say that he may vote for the local governor I don’t really vibe with?
Do we think this person smiles like someone who may want to dance all night with me on a Thursday?

We all make assumptions. We can try to limit them and catch them before they turn into slippery criticisms—but we still will make them. Some maybe are rooted in experience (yes, I've found a particular clothing brand really does mean this guy probably won’t vote the same as you in the election). But other times, those assumptions are rooted in fear and speculation. Sometimes, you don’t catch them in time and they suddenly spill all over the table at a sticky bar you have taken your trans date to because it is near the gym you may or may not work out in after.

Let me set the scene.

We are at the sticky bar.
He is wearing his gym kit. (insert red flag emoji)
I try and talk about music, new shows, the big, major meme going viral right now.
Every time he answers a question, he brings it back to my transness.
Not in an overtly awful way. He made it clear (ten times) that he supports trans people.
But all I did was ask about his favourite show?
I try to steer the conversation to something that doesn’t sound like a gender studies university essay, but he wants to talk about it all.
I pluck up the courage to say, “Hey, can we talk about something that isn’t gender?”
He looks horrified with probably a hint of shame. And genuine sadness as I feel he thought he was doing a job.
He replies, “I’m sorry, I just thought you may want to talk about it cus, you know….”

Comfort is a weird one. I don’t think dating will always feel comfortable. Eating in front of a date for the first time at an Italian restaurant will never feel good to me. Trying to fumble through conversations until you find the spark. Deciding whether or not to lean in for the kiss. It’s not always a comfortable experience. 



I can only speak for myself, but as a trans person I'm not expecting dating to be full of comfort all the time. When it comes to my transness, and dating, I would say the biggest takeaway is not to assume what we may need or want.



There is no blanket rule. Trans people are a pretty diverse group. If you do not have the experience of dating us, try not to create an idea based off of those assumptions. Ultimately, our deserving of love and care is too often left out of the conversation about our lives. Think about you, as your own person, who also deserves love and care—and think about what you would like on a date, and how you may feel. I find, when we are lost, starting with ourselves and empathy is a good place to begin. Ask, don’t assume. And uh, maybe don’t wear a gym kit on the first date!

Try not to ask a Google-able question to your date. 

In my life, the thing that I have the most cognitive dissonance about being transgender and dating is if I have the agency to decide whether or not I have to forfeit the idea of normalcy. Am I going to be able to date in my lifetime and feel a sense of normalcy?



Or is it always going to be this constant being an encyclopedia where you have to explain everything. I’ve gone on dates with people who are more with it, who aren’t trans, who I don’t have to explain stuff to — but that doesn’t just come out of thin air. That comes from them having dated trans people before, having a trans partner in the past, or reading. 

Trying to not “other” the person so much by being like “Can you really get your surgery undone?” Maybe don’t open with that question.

I love that you’re already thinking about this! First, check in with your own comfort level. Are you relaxed, or are you thinking way too much about your date’s trans identity and wanting not to offend them? As humans, we often coregulate in relationships. This means that the nervous system of one person influences the nervous system of another person. In the context of a date, when you feel uncomfortable, your date is certainly going to feel that, too. I’ve lost count of how many times someone has said something awkward or uncomfortable about my being trans, and the entire room could feel the ickiness of the moment. My discomfort would have totally been avoided in those moments if the other person had started our conversation relaxed in their own relationship to transness.

Second, ensure that their trans identity is integrated into the whole picture of how you see them. This will help you avoid being on a date and only talking to them about their trans identity in some hyperfixated, uncomfortable way. When you approach them, don’t think of them as trans first. Who are they at the intersection of all their other identities? Build a whole profile of them in your mind. Their Hinge profile could totally help you with that. Once you have a clearer understanding of them as a whole person, you’re more likely to focus on them as a human being rather than this one aspect of their identity. I’m not saying ignore their transness, but let them take the lead on sharing their identity.

If you want to acknowledge that you see them and enjoy them for who they are as a trans person, you can always ask them what compliments feel affirming of their gender and immediately use one of those compliments. It’ll show them that you’re affirming and that you like them. The biggest takeaway is to 

be relaxed, let them take the lead on sharing their identity, and remain focused on them as a human being. 

Trans people have lived so much life beyond our gender transitions, and there is way more to us than meets the eye.

When it comes to making partners who aren’t cis feel more comfortable in relationships, it is important to show that you are open to learning and asking questions. It’s okay to not understand what an experience is like if you don’t live it. Showing curiosity and wanting to know more about someone is one of the main pillars of getting to know them.

Sometimes, affirming your non-cis partner and their identity can be as simple as asking what it was like for them to come to terms with being trans. 

Knowing that someone is interested in learning about and understanding you, and expanding their gender paradigms, is comforting.


If you make mistakes regarding your partner’s gender or pronouns, it’s important to apologize, correct your behavior, and move forward. Additionally, let your trans partner or date dictate how they would like to be introduced to groups of people. For example, some trans individuals may not feel comfortable with a big announcement about their pronouns because it could put a target on their back, and in many cases make them unsafe emotionally. The best way to learn is to ask.


Overall, creating a safe and comfortable environment for non-cis partners involves showing openness to learning (and correcting mistakes), asking questions, and being curious about their experiences.

As someone cis, how can I help my trans dates feel more comfortable?

I think when talking to someone who is trans, especially if you’re trying to engage with them romantically, language is so important. Like, literally cannot emphasize that enough.

Very frankly, I know often we (trans people, and more specifically trans women) are taken out of our bodies by the language that people use to engage with us. And by that I mean limited or uniformed language that can easily trigger body dysmorphia or gender dysphoria in trans people.

I’m thinking about every time I’ve been out and a man has stopped me in the middle of a club and asked me if I play any sports or if I’m in the WNBA or encouraged me to pursue such a career.

I remember one time I was at a Dominican spot; and while I give very Dominican spanish mami fly I do not speak Spanish well or really at all. Anyway, I’m walking through this crowd of people towards the bar and all these men are trying to get at me. I can’t understand anything anyone is saying. But what I can make out is that this man just called me, “La Grande,” which immediately translates to, “The Big One.” To which someone added, “Damn that’s a big ass girl.” I think that was the only thing I understood from anyone that spoke to me that night.

And it took me out of my body almost immediately. Now I’m overly aware that I am not only the tallest bitch in the room and can see over everyone’s head, but I’m also the only trans woman here.

I guess what I’m saying is there are nuances in language that are important to keep in mind, especially when interacting with people who don’t have the same lived experiences as you.

It’s really important for me to know from a romantic partner, even if it's early stages or super casual flirting, to know that I’m seen. My visibility and my respect are big parts of my safety, and I think that’s true for every black trans woman.

And when I talk about the visibility of trans people, I do not mean tangible vision.
I know you see us
I know I’m the tallest girl in the room.

But I need to know you see me enough to respect me.
You see my identity my intersections my boundaries my truth my flaw my beauty.
That you understand me enough to engage with me in a way that affirms me.

If I don't have that, I cut the conversation short.
Every time a man has used the “do you play sports” line,
I promise they did not get any more
than a head nod from me
That man that yelled “la grande” at me?
I did not miss a beat in walking away from him.

I guess in all, I think people aren’t used to or taught to engage with trans people the same way we are cis folk. The trans community, especially in a romantic lens, aren’t and haven’t been spoonfed and almost commercialized to masses the same way cis gendered people and heteronormativity has. And because of that there is definitely a shift in language and boundaries. The things that affirm and excite us are a little bit different.

I knew I was nonbinary way before I had the vocabulary to name it. During my freshman (and only) year of college, I spent most of my free time writing poems about feeling disconnected to my body. I changed my hair and wardrobe (what felt like) daily, exchanging the feminine staples of my closet with ugly sweaters and bulky jackets from the men's section of the thrift store. However, tweaks of external presentation ultimately didn’t make me feel validated as a trans person. What it really came down to was how the people I cared about the most were recognizing me. I started to get a really big crush on a person who went to a college a couple hours away, they were also nonbinary. They were surrounded by many more trans people at school and in life than I had ever been, so flirting was nothing new to them. They complimented me with words such as “handsome” instead of “beautiful” and “attractive” as opposed to “pretty” or “cute.”

Like learning a new language, I figured out what made me feel my most confident and appreciated.

When I can tell people are unsure of how to flirt with me or compliment me, I start by asking them what their favorite compliments are. I ask whether they like to be called “pretty” “attractive” or “sexy” and encourage them to ask me the same. It never hurts to ask questions that may seem so silly or elementary when getting to know someone new.

What are some nuances when flirting with someone who’s trans?

For many, the holidays are filled with parties, events, and many intentional moments. If this isn’t the case for you, you’re not alone. Many LGBTQIA+ people have experienced rejection of their identities by families, friends, and other significant relationships. The holiday season might be a time where the loss of those connections can feel more present than usual. Here's some advice I hope will help you navigate this time of year. 





If you're wondering whether or not to come out during the holidays:



The first thing I think about is safety, always. Consider if your family might respond in a harmful or hurtful way. If that's the case, have a safety plan that includes an exit strategy in the event of a worst case scenario. This can include giving supportive family members a heads up so they can be there if needed. Once you have your plan figured out, it might be okay to lean into the moment and share about your identity.

Ultimately, we want family to witness who we are in a way that feels celebratory of our identities. 

Remember that coming out doesn't have to be an in-person experience and it’s normal for the process to look different from person to person.



If you're leaning into found family and prioritizing mental health: 

Creating new ways to celebrate during the holidays frees us from constantly thinking about what used to be and invites us to experience newness and novelty. Exploring new traditions can help you move through any grief that comes with spending the holidays differently. Pause and reflect on how you wish to foster connection, togetherness, belonging, or community in a meaningful way.



If you're thinking about meeting each other's families: 

This question has more to do with your relationship than your family. It gets to the heart of whether or not you both are ready for that next step. In short, it's important to be on the same page about what introducing a partner to family looks like and means. Five questions I recommend talking through:



Where are you in the process of coming out to your family?

How do you feel about your relationships with your family?

Do you feel affirmed and celebrated by your family?

Will your family be supportive of us?

If I get stuck in a conversation that makes me feel weird, how do I let you know?



If you want to let your family know pronouns don't have to be a big deal:

We don't have to explain our pronouns to anyone. There’s nothing that says that we’re obligated to do this. So first, I’d reframe it from explaining to inviting someone in to celebrate with us! If this is your first time having this conversation, invite your family into this process by sharing pronouns are a way people honor themselves and respect their identities.



To read Moe's full responses, head to the Help Center of the Hinge app. 

Any advice for someone feeling uncertain about family, dating, and the holidays? 

Total transparency in the early stages of dating has allowed me to feel affirmed in my gender and its many dimensions. My pronouns are they/them, and I’ve had to exercise the muscle that asks me to be transparent from the very start with my lovers. I usually tell people on the first date how I don’t identify as a cis woman, how “they/them” makes me feel euphoric and seen, and how every day I feel different about how I wish to present.

This felt like a scary thing to do, because there were moments where I felt unsafe revealing that truth, especially with cis men I was attracted to. For a long time, I allowed myself to be misgendered, even though it made me feel physically uncomfortable to be called a woman, lady, or girl.

I am transparent on the first date because the person’s reaction usually allows me to discern the trajectory of our connection. While nerve-wracking, it allows me to feel empowered in my agency in pursuing meaningful intimacy. I wear an outfit that makes me feel the most gender euphoric of the day, and I put myself before the assumed desires of another. If somebody is uncomfortable with my truth, then it reveals more about them than it does about me. I prefer to get this done early, because I know how precious my time is, and how uncompromising I am about my need to be respected in my fullness.

Even though transparency in dating feels simple and foundational, it is surprising how difficult it can be in action.

While I unlearn many harmful standards of desirability, I have learned what I know for sure: I want to do whatever I wish with my gender, and I want to share my life intimately with somebody who wholly supports me in that. If they cannot provide that, then I cannot be with them.

How can I better affirm my gender in the early stages of dating?

We have all been there. You learn something new about a close friend, and suddenly you’re looking at them a whole lot different. Honestly, just being super direct is my favorite way to go about it. First of all, press that heart button!! Take the plunge! 



In my opinion, inviting them on a date is the easiest way to let them know what you want.


You can say something like: “I know you love cake. Let me take you out on a dessert date?” You probably already know the things they like, so take advantage of that! If that feels too bold for you, then a compliment on their appearance might also do the trick. Pick their best Hinge pic, and lay it on thick. Good luck!

I am sensing that your friend is also a crush, so congrats on finding out that your crush is bi! I’ve actually matched with a mutual friend before and can totally relate to still not knowing if they matched with you because you’re a friend or because they’re into you. Here’s how you can make it very clear that you’re sending flirtation their way.

You could ask them directly by saying something like, “It’s so great connecting with you here! Your profile is dope! I’m curious: did you match with me because we’re friends or because you want to explore a romantic connection? FYI, I totally have a crush on you.”

You could say directly to them, “I am flirting with you, btw. I was so happy when we connected because I’d love to explore the attraction if the feeling is mutual.“

An example of flirting with them directly is giving them a compliment about something about them that intrigues you. For example, “I really enjoy how interesting your stories are. Your mind works in such beautiful ways”. Following this up with one of the direct statements I shared could help them understand your interest in them better!

Ultimately, being clear and direct is so important. 

Otherwise, you might both be wondering about one another’s intentions unknowingly.

This moment may seem awkward, but the universe is clearly on your side because you’ve got two things working in your favor. First, you’re on a dating app, so any communication will inherently have a flirtatious undertone. Second, the two of you have been primed for good conversation because you have the best possible thing in common: being bi!

In case you haven’t heard, “Bi4Bi” is very much a thing. (I discovered this phrase way too late, but after I did, my chaotic love life finally made sense.) There’s also a chance that your friend (or dare I say: your crush) doesn’t know how you identify, so your opener can allude to that and reveal you’re on the same page. You could go with a classic retort like “I’m bi too” or hint at the magic of your potential Bi4Bi partnership with a line like, “just two bisexuals on Hinge, nothing to see here!” 



It’s a solid rule of thumb: when in doubt about how to queer flirt, just talk about being queer.


At a loss for words? Let a meme do the talking! Fortunately memes are bi culture, so there’s plenty of options to choose from. Consider the one with the Minion eyes that says below it, “I am looking at you…bisexually.” Consider the video of the person in a diner getting up and respectfully telling someone at another table, “Ahem—you’re bi.” Consider an illustration of cuffed jeans! A photo of Megan Fox! A GIF of Che Diaz! The possibilities are endless.

Um, interesting... I saw a friend on the app that I did not realize was bi. What’s the best way to make it clear I’m flirting?

Total transparency in the early stages of dating has allowed me to feel affirmed in my gender and its many dimensions. My pronouns are they/them, and I’ve had to exercise the muscle that asks me to be transparent from the very start with my lovers. I usually tell people on the first date how I don’t identify as a cis woman, how “they/them” makes me feel euphoric and seen, and how every day I feel different about how I wish to present.

This felt like a scary thing to do, because there were moments where I felt unsafe revealing that truth, especially with cis men I was attracted to. For a long time, I allowed myself to be misgendered, even though it made me feel physically uncomfortable to be called a woman, lady, or girl.

I am transparent on the first date because the person’s reaction usually allows me to discern the trajectory of our connection. While nerve-wracking, it allows me to feel empowered in my agency in pursuing meaningful intimacy. I wear an outfit that makes me feel the most gender euphoric of the day, and I put myself before the assumed desires of another. If somebody is uncomfortable with my truth, then it reveals more about them than it does about me. I prefer to get this done early, because I know how precious my time is, and how uncompromising I am about my need to be respected in my fullness.

Even though transparency in dating feels simple and foundational, it is surprising how difficult it can be in action.

While I unlearn many harmful standards of desirability, I have learned what I know for sure: I want to do whatever I wish with my gender, and I want to share my life intimately with somebody who wholly supports me in that. If they cannot provide that, then I cannot be with them.

A close up portrait of Mimi. They're looking straight at the camera with a subtle, soft smile.  

Read this @Hinge Not-so FAQ about affirming your gender while dating.

Read this Not-so FAQ about affirming your gender while dating.

How can I better affirm my gender in the early stages of dating?

Explore all questions, or read more about navigating the holidays

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An LGBTQIA+datingresource

How can I better affirm my gender in the early stages of dating?

Explore all questions, or read more about navigating the holidays

HaveMoreQuestions?

An Arrow Icon.LGBTQIA+datingresource

An LGBTQIA+datingresource