Tag Archives: sexual attraction

Debunking the Three-Date Rule

Having a script for how we’re supposed to behave can be a great security blanket. Someone asks, “How are you?,” and you say, “Fine.” You see someone you haven’t seen in a while, and you say, “Well, it was great running into you,” at the end of the conversation. These social scripts smooth out social interactions.

Limiting the possibilities for our interactions to these scripts can cause trouble, though, and the biggest arena I see this trouble play out is in the world of sexual relationships. The dating world is ripe with confusion regarding how we’re supposed to behave versus how we need to actually behave in order to have healthy and satisfying relationships. In the realm of dating, the timing of sexual acts is frequently seen as one of the indicators of how serious a relationship is, or as a predictor of how long the relationship will last (i.e. “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”). So let’s just take a few minutes to debunk one of the most common dating scripts: the three-date rule.

What is the Three-Date Rule and Who Uses It?

The three-date rule states that one must wait three dates to have sex with a new partner. This rule plays on some very basic assumptions we make about sexuality in general. First off: this rule applies almost exclusively to heterosexual people. Queer folks have their own stereotypical rules of dating (like gay men and one-night-stands, or lesbians and U-Hauls*), most of which contradict heteronormative sex rules.

Responsibility and Shame

Because this rule applies mostly to straight folks, it heightens the gendered expectations in relationships. The three-date rule plays on the idea that men always want sex, while women are the gatekeepers, which puts women in charge of men’s sexuality and causes a whole slew of problems. If women are in charge of whether or not men have sex, it takes all the responsibility for acting like compassionate human beings out men’s hands and likens them to animals, acting out of instinct and completely incapable of reason. Besides being demeaning to men, this mindset also supports rape culture, because it creates the reasoning that if a man rapes a woman, then she must have done something to open the gate. She must have flirted with him, or worn a short skirt and heels, or taken the ring off her finger—because those are signs that “gate is open—man can have sex now!” (Do me a favor and read that in a caveman voice, because that’s exactly how devolved this mindset is.)

Another problem caused by the notion of women as gatekeepers of sex is the denial of female sexuality. Men are not the only people made stupid by the human drive for sex. Many of us have felt that brain-fog when our crush in junior high noticed us, or that rush of “I don’t care what happens afterward” right before that first kiss. At the very least, we’ve seen people swoon over each other in movies. It’s a human thing, not a guy thing. Female bodies are actually more responsive to sexual stimuli, and denying that lends support to the shame surrounding female sexuality. Imagine taking shame out of the equation surrounding sex—how much freedom would come from it?

Now take that lack of shame and put it into the three-date rule. It doesn’t fit, does it? That’s because the three-date rule is centered around “appropriate” and “proper” times for women to say yes to sex, when in reality there is no “proper” time. There’s only the time that fits well for that given relationship. For some partners, sex is the first thing to happen, and the getting-to-know-you bit happens much later. For other couples, one or both partners need an established emotional intimacy before anything remotely sexual gets introduced. And for a large amount of the U.S. dating population, we need something in between those two. Hard and fast rules don’t work when we apply them to very individual and unique contexts.

To Each Their Own

I like to think of each new relationship in my life like water: it seeks its own level. Each relationship is like a different container, but ultimately the surface is level because I’m seeking the same respect and love. Sometimes that love comes in the form of sex, sometimes in the form of abstinent cuddles. Ultimately, whether or not I have sex with someone depends greatly on a number of factors, predominantly chemistry and trust, not on how many dates we’ve had.

Side Note: the following are tales of three loves. I am purposely avoiding gendered pronouns because no matter how enlightened you are, everyone puts gendered expectations and explanations onto simple “he/she” language. I’m disallowing you, dear reader, to assume I’m treating a given partner a certain way based on their gender as part of my exercise in debunking this dating rule.

The first lover, I hated right off the bat. I thought they were an arrogant know-it-all, and I couldn’t have been less impressed with them. A year later, we met in a different context, and I found that we actually had a lot of similar life experiences. We got to talking and I loved the way they thought about things. I started running into them at clubs, and finally one night, amidst the pulsing bass and the crush of hot bodies, we kissed. And, oh my—that kiss. That’s how it went for several months: meet up with friends at clubs, dance, kiss, go home. Then, one night in November, our friends were heading out and I knew: tonight was going to be the night. …which frankly sucked, because I was sick with a cold, and I knew that I should be home in bed, having soup and going to sleep early. But this person wanted me to come out—texted me specifically to make sure I was going—and I knew that if I went, I’d get laid. We met at the club, we danced all night, we drove back to their place, and we spent the night entangled in each other. No official dinner-and-a-movie dates involved. We’d spent copious hours in discussion groups, in hangouts with friends, in all the getting-to-know-you moments with other people around, and it wasn’t necessary for us to date before having sex. I knew how they took care of their sexual health, how many partners they’d had, and their STI status before we had sex, and to me, that was more important than waiting for three “official” dates.

I met the second lover through the first. My first impression of this lover was that I wanted nothing more than spend many long hours having glorious, athletic sex with them—they were the athlete, not me. I started getting to know this one very slowly as the end of my first sexytimes week with my first lover rolled around. My first time with this lover was actually a threesome with my first lover as well, which was nice because I was still recovering from being sick and having someone else there gave me a little bit of the rest I needed. Two years of having sex later, my second lover and I finally went on a date. But we did it completely backwards from how dates are “supposed” to go. You know that script for dinner-movie-sex-walk of shame? I went over to their place the night before, and we had sex, started the movie, slept, woke up, had sex again, showered, and then went out for breakfast and a walk around the park. For us, the sex needed to happen first in order to get to the point where we felt comfortable enough talking about the rest of life.

I met my third lover, the most recent, through a mutual friend. This lover was just out of a long-term relationship, and I figured I was going to be the rebound. We started out having chaperoned dates with our mutual friend as the buffer, because we did not know each other at all. A few dates in, we took off the training wheels and went on our first un-chaperoned date. I remember sitting on my hands so that we would actually talk. Similar to my second lover, the chemistry between us was electric and I found it difficult to do the get-to-know-you bit with my tongue down their throat. We started having manual sex before they were tested, and after we knew the results, we proceeded on to the many other types of sex.

I specify manual sex here to highlight another shortcoming of the three-date rule: it doesn’t define “sex.” Many people tend to think of “getting laid” as penis-in-vagina sex, but there are a whole range of sex acts that can be considered “sex” (i.e. manual, oral, anal). What one person classifies as “sex” may be completely different and no less valid than what another person calls “sex,” and waiting on one type in particular doesn’t mean you aren’t having sex in general.

Looking back at the rest of my dating life, I have never followed the three-date rule, and you know what? I’m still here, I’m still standing, and I’m only as slutty as I call myself. I am living proof that the timing of sex between two people does not revolve around what other people think. I expect my partners to be responsible for their own sex drive, and respectful of my humanity, and I think that’s a much better rule for when to have sex than measuring out three dates.

* Author’s Note: The jokes typically run along these lines: “What does a gay man bring on a second date? …What second date?” (Because gay male culture is stereotyped as only capable of one-night stands.) “What does a lesbian bring on a second date? A U-Haul.” (Because lesbians are notorious for moving in together very quickly after starting to date.) Warning: if you are straight and you tell these jokes, that is considered homophobic. 

Photo by Sara Slattery

Photo by Sara Slattery

Being the Sancha

“She be wifed up for not even a hot minute and she already lookin’ for a sancha.”

Coming from a small university town and moving to the big city was an adjustment in many ways, the least of which was the language.

“A what?” I asked. Thankfully, this friend was my Urban Dictionary: the one who recognized I was a little white girl from the middle class who knew virtually nothing of slang.

“A sancha*—you know, a woman on the side. Sancho, a man on the side—like that.”

“Oh, like Sancho Panza from Don Quixote!”

“Yeah, okay.” Complete with weird look of “Nerd.” Little did I know I was about to spend the next year being the sancha three times over.

A few months later, I hooked up with a woman from my hometown. We spent a fabulous weekend in bed, followed by promises to meet up again once I returned to school, since school wasn’t too far away from home. I got back to school only to experience radio silence for the next week. Finally, I saw on Facebook that she had gotten back together with her ex. She’d never mentioned they were talking. This was my first experience being the person on the side: not too bad, granted, but I still felt sucker-punched upon finding out that I had been played. See, I’m usually fine with keeping things casual, seeing other people, whatever. But if someone’s going to leave out facts to make the situation seem simpler, well, that’s lying by omission in my book, and I’m not okay with being lied to.

A little while later, I made a Mistake. It was one of those mistakes that I knew was a mistake going in, but I still had to do it. A friend of mine had recently come back into my life after a long hiatus. He was one of those people that would go MIA once he was in a relationship and the rest of us would only see him again after the relationship started to go sour. He and I had long-standing sexual chemistry, and him showing up on my doorstep was no coincidence. He said he was still in a relationship, but that he was in the process of talking his girlfriend into opening up. (Open and polyamorous relationships are a pretty common thing in my world, so this didn’t come as a surprise.) We hung out all night, the air thick with unsaid wants, and if there had been matches anywhere near, I’m pretty sure one spark would’ve sent us up in flames. The next night he came back, but I wouldn’t let him in until he cleared it with his girl. I knew I wanted him enough that I wouldn’t care that he had a girlfriend once he came up. He told me he sent her a text with the request, and read the reply aloud, “I don’t care—do what you want.” Now, most monogamous people would take that as, “You do and I’ll kill you,” but in my world, where people say what they mean and sleeping with people outside the primary relationship is both okay and common, I was thrilled. A hot, kinky, sweaty, sexy hour later, I found out the text had actually come from his best friend. His girlfriend had not signed off, and I was officially the other woman. Like I said, I’m not okay with being lied to—I didn’t talk to him for another nine months.

Not long after this Mistake, I found myself in the most egregious of all my sancha-ing. I was heading back home for the summer break and I wanted a snazzy summer boyfriend. I had just the guy in mind: dark wavy hair, dark eyes, killer smirk, an edgy streak and a great sense of humor. Problem was, he and his girlfriend, while having been on the rocks for a year, were still together. My actions here are the most heartless I have ever committed. I wanted him. I knew they were going to break up, but I wanted them to break up on my timeline, so I could have him for the summer. Everything fell exactly into place a mere two weeks behind my preferred schedule, and he and I were together. I called him my boyfriend, we were together with all of my friends, but every time we saw someone he had known with his ex, we were “just friends.” This might sound trivial, but it’s a small town, so most of the time we were in public, we were closeted. Here I was in an opposite-sex pairing and we were closeted. Oh, the irony.

As everything was falling into place with this boy, I had this odd feeling that I should feel guilty, but I didn’t. Rather, I felt guilty that I didn’t feel more guilt. I knew I was hurting this girl, but from everything I knew of their relationship and the horrible way she treated him, I felt justified. I was offering him the kindness she didn’t show him, the love that she refused to give him. I did not think highly of her, and my strongest emotion towards her was apathy.

Three months later, Summer Boy and I broke up, right on schedule. It took me a while to process the anger that I felt about the relationship, but once I did, I realized some important Life Lessons:

  1. By golly, it’s not good to thwart the intentions of the universe! I was able to make events unfold exactly how I wanted them, despite all the signs that said I shouldn’t do it, and I wound up with a thoroughly unsatisfying relationship.
  2. Being referred to as “Her” feels like I’m some evil deity. And as much as I like things going my way, I don’t really like feeling like the villain in my own story.
  3. Respect is not necessary for relationships, but it is necessary for good relationships. I didn’t respect any of us involved—the boy, the girl, or myself. I was playing with power that wasn’t mine to take, and that was a misuse of my humanity and integrity.

 

I can already hear the outrage of some of you reading this: “How could you hurt that poor girl like that?!” “Have you no shame?!” And my answers are: relatively easily, and no. Self-interest makes a lot of things very easy, and shame is a useless emotion. I did not feel shame at the time these events unfolded, and I feel no shame now, looking back. I know many people will want me to feel ashamed of my actions, but if I were a man who had broken up an abusive relationship to get with a woman, I would be hailed as a hero. If I felt shame for all these situations still, all these years later, I would not have actually learned anything. The lessons are worth more to me than self-flagellation.

Of all them, the most important lesson in my own development, though, was my realization that I’m actually okay with me making mistakes. Being the perfectionistic Virgo that I have been for so much of my life has kept me on a pretty short leash, and I think my series of sancha-ing was my own rebellion against myself—my way of proving that I can fuck up and be okay, and still think of myself as a good person overall. I can have those moments (or months) of selfishness and not think less of myself.

I recognize my mistakes, and I learn from them, but I refuse to dwell.

Author’s Note: The term “sancha” is used here as insider language, which means that because of my history with Mexican / Latino culture and because of the cultural and racial diversity within my social circle during the time of these events, I am using the permission of my own Latino-American community to call myself a sancha. This does not give White people in general permission to use such terms, nor does it give me permission to appropriate other people’s cultures willy-nilly. Feel free to continue this conversation in the comments.

Photo by Meggyn Watkins

Photo by Meggyn Watkins

We Don’t Know: How Do You Define Your Sexuality?

“For a lot of people, it’s nice to imagine that humans are simple, and that you can know a person’s sex, and then you will know all sorts of things about them deeply and clearly. And if you don’t fit into this nice little box people who do can get really confused and sometimes even angryand if you yourself don’t fit into one of these nice little boxes and you think that people should, then you end up hating yourself. And that’s probably even worse. I think the best and maybe only way to solve this problem is for people to understand that there are no nice shiny boxes. Or, if there are shiny boxes, there are an infinite number of them, enough to put all of the people who currently exist, have ever existed, and will ever exist. So, together, let’s understand.” – Hank Green

What is sexuality? This is a complicated question. Wrought with personal, societal, political, religious, familial, culturalwe could go on and onideas and expectations. It’s not simple. It’s personal. And it’s incredibly complicated. Sometimes in our attempt to find enlightenment, we find a video that tackles answering a question like this so much better than anything we could write here.

In the following 3:48 video, Hank Green breaks down the complex differences between sexual orientation, sexual attraction, sexual behavior, romantic attraction, biological sex, gender roles, and gender identity. How we define ourselves is a unique combination of where we we fall in all of these independent categories.

http://youtu.be/xXAoG8vAyzI

But, as Hank reminds us, “Many people move across these spectrums, sometimes from year to year, sometimes hour to hour. But what’s really important is that we trust ourselves, and we understand ourselves, and we love and respect ourselvesand we grant that same understanding and respect to the people around us.”

Photo by Meggyn Watkins

Special Thanks to Nerdfigheria Wiki for the transcript of Hank’s video. Watch more Vlogbrothers here.