How do I tell someone who has feelings for me that I just want casual sex?

Kai gives dating advice to a lesbian looking for no-strings-attached sex

Ask Kai: Advice for the Apocalypse” is a column by Kai Cheng Thom to help you survive and thrive in a challenging world. Have a question? Email askkai@xtramagazine.com.

Dear Kai,

I’m a lesbian in my early twenties, and even though I’ve been out for a while, I’ve only started dating recently. 

I really dislike and disapprove of dating practices that objectify women and that are emotionally irresponsible. The problem is that I’m finding myself in situations where I only feel attracted sexually to a potential partner, and I don’t really want to have a serious relationship with them. I feel guilty, like I’m doing the same thing as the objectifying men I disapprove of so much. 

When I can sense that a potential partner has feelings for me, I panic and don’t know how to turn them down. Should I tell them that I am interested sexually but not romantically, or would that be too harsh? Would it be cruel to propose a casual relationship to someone who has feelings? If it isn’t cruel to tell them that, how can I do it without being insensitive?

In a way, I feel like my only models of lesbian love and sex are monogamous relationships, and the only references of casual sex I know involve  male “players.” But I want to explore a variety of ways of dating in a respectful and loving way, and I feel at a loss for how to do that.

Distressed

Dear Distressed, 

What a beautiful letter, and what poignant questions. When we dive into the cauldron of erotic adventure—sex, dating, relationships, romance—powerful emotions are bound to get stirred up. Our erotic selves often contain hidden truths about what we want that are unknown to our conscious, everyday selves. When we suddenly come into contact with these truths, it can be both unsettling and revelatory as we struggle to integrate the reality of what we want with the question of who we are. 

Does wanting sex but not a relationship make you a bad person, Distressed? Does it mean you are dehumanizing and degrading the women you want to have sex with? I don’t think so. In the dominant, colonial culture, sex negativity (that is, the shaming of sexuality, sometimes called “erotophobia” by sex nerds like me) creeps into our ways of thinking in many forms. One such form of sex negativity is the confusion of desire with objectification. 

 

Simply being sexually attracted to someone—or even having sexual fantasies about them—does not necessarily mean that you are disrespecting or objectifying them. Sexual desire is often instinctive, often uncontrollable; it is an inseparable part of many people’s experience of being human. When it comes to ethics, what’s most important is how you respond to the feelings of desire when they rise up inside of you.

Do you allow your desires and fantasies to completely prevent you from fully seeing the other person, or do you use your desire as a starting point to get curious about what they want? Do you feel as though you are entitled to act out your desires on other people’s bodies, or do you show consideration for their boundaries? 

A key distinction that I’ve found really helpful in this area is intimacy and consent educator Betty Martin’s concept of domain. Martin is the developer of the Wheel of Consent, a nuanced model for practicing consent in ways that go far beyond a simple “yes” or “no.” She conceives of the domain as everything that we have a “right to” and a “responsibility for.” Around this domain is our boundary; that is, the place where our rights and responsibilities end and another person’s rights and responsibilities begin. 

So according to this theory, Distressed, your desire for sex without relationships is in your domain. You have a right to that desire, and you don’t have to feel bad about it or try to change it. You also have a responsibility to manage your desire for casual sex in a thoughtful and honest way. 

Likewise, your potential partners have a right to want a serious relationship, and they have a responsibility to manage their expectations and respect the limits of others who might want something different. 

It’s not all on you to make your potential partners feel good about themselves, and it’s not all on them to give you an easy, no-strings-attached sexual experience. You and your partners are cooking in this cauldron together, and you both need to communicate your wants and hopes, desires and limits. 

Why is it so confusing and difficult to ask for what we want? Sex negativity and other oppressive systems engulf our sexual and romantic longings in a cloud of fear and shame. On the one hand, we are told that casual sex is slutty, dirty and dehumanizing; on the other, wanting a romantic relationship is often seen in the dominant culture as uncool, clingy and pathetic. Gay men are stereotyped as “promiscuous.” Lesbians are stereotyped as “U-Haulers.” I believe that we need to create our own, authentic ways of practicing sexuality and romance—as a lesbian, it’s possible for you to have many casual partners and also be a kind and caring person. 

The way out of these stereotypes is by embracing our empowered choice and voice. That is, to ask boldly (but kindly) for what we want and to (kindly) decline what we don’t, to celebrate other people for asking for what they want and declining what they don’t—even when that means we will, at times, have incompatible desires. There is great power, beauty and even healing in giving ourselves and others permission to express what is wanted and what is not. It is okay to realize that we can’t always give each other what they want or need, and that we can’t always get what we want and need. The key is creating a safe and compassionate environment to have these brave conversations. 

So how do we create this safe and compassionate environment, you ask? I believe that simple answers are often the best ones when it comes to communication, Distressed. For example, the common sense advice to be upfront and let a potential partner know early on what you are looking for—i.e. casual sex versus deep romance—will probably serve you well. Clear, kind and honest communication are essential tools for navigating tricky romantic situations.

You ask if it would be cruel to propose a casual relationship to someone who has feelings. I don’t think it has to be, particularly if you have the sense that the other person has some emotional flexibility on the matter; that is, they would still get some enjoyment and not too much pain out of something casual. 

Of course, you probably don’t want to say something like, “I’m attracted to you in a sexual way, but you’re not important enough to me to want to have a serious relationship.” But you could say something like, “I find you very sexy and beautiful. I want to make sure we have a good time together, so I need to be honest that I’m only looking for fun right now and not a relationship. Does that sound okay to you?”

I suggest also being clear about what you mean by “casual” or “just fun.” Are you looking for a one-night stand only, or are you interested in an ongoing friends-with-benefits situation? Is it that you don’t want a romantic relationship at all, or is it just that you don’t want to be monogamous?  

It’s not your responsibility to rescue your potential partners from their feelings, Distressed. It is your responsibility to keep checking in and making your position clear to make sure things are okay (and fun!) for both of you. However, if you feel that your potential partner has feelings that are so strong they will probably get seriously hurt if you continue having sex, I would encourage you to end things with clarity and compassion—for the both of you. 

Ghosting and beating around the bush will only prolong feelings of awkwardness, shame and deception. It’s perfectly okay to say, “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, but I have the feeling that you’re looking for more than I’m able to give you. I respect you too much to be dishonest with you.” 

This kind of clarity is so rare in the dating and hooking up world that you might find that some partners will be actually grateful for it (I know I always am!). Others will still feel disappointed, which is okay. It’s not your job to rescue people from disappointment. It is your job to be clear and gracious about the way you let them down, which is to say, don’t feed the narrative that there’s something wrong with them. 

Most of us, when disappointed in love, will immediately jump to the conclusion that we are being abandoned because there is something wrong with us. We might desperately try and seek answers from the person who is leaving, asking over and over for reasons. The truth is, there doesn’t have to be a reason other than that the relationship doesn’t feel right for you. So, Distressed, I would again suggest being clear, honest and kind when you disappoint people (as we inevitably will in love and in life). 

Tell them what you liked about them. (Usually there’s something!) It helps to be specific, which makes it feel more true. Tell them that you’re not looking for a serious or romantic relationship, or that you’re not feeling a strong enough connection to start one. Be clear about ending things and don’t use equivocations like “I need to take a break for a while” because this will likely set future expectations of getting back together. Thank them for spending time with you and say goodbye. We so often do not receive clear, kind goodbyes from partners who break up with us, which is why breakups frequently leave us longing for closure. A clear and tender goodbye is a gift. 

May your adventures in sex and dating bring you pleasure and joy, Distressed. May they also bring self-discovery and wisdom. Trust in your wanting, and give yourself permission to want what you want. Trust in your kindness as well. This is the way to liberation, to coming home to yourself. 

Want more Kai? Check out her Quick Tips videos. 

Kai Cheng Thom is no longer a registered or practicing mental health professional. The opinions expressed in this column are not intended or implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. All content in this column, including, but not limited to, all text, graphics, videos and images, is for general information purposes only. This column, its author, Xtra (including its parent and affiliated companies, as well as their directors, officers, employees, successors and assigns) and any guest authors are not responsible for the accuracy of the information contained in this column or the outcome of following any information provided directly or indirectly from it.

Kai Cheng Thom is a writer, performer, and social worker who divides her heart between Montreal and Toronto, unceded Indigenous territories. She is the author of the Lambda Award-nominated novel Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir (Metonymy Press), as well as the poetry collection a place called No Homeland (Arsenal Pulp Press). Her latest book, Falling Back in Love with Being Human, a collection of letters and poetry, is out now from Penguin Random House Canada.

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