This post was submitted by corey

Start your week with sex… or lack thereof. Delve into the jungle of the newly out and single every Monday morning in Sexual Disorientation.

Denver Over Traffic, March 2009. Photo by Corey.

When meeting new people, there are things one loves to hear. “I have a car…” “I used to work for the Obama campaign, too…” “I think our organization needs better LGBT recruitment…”

And then there are the things that you don’t want to hear. “I need to find a church here…” “My political views may surprise you…” “I’m married.”

While setting off on a new adventure in a new city, I have been surprised at how many of my new counterparts – mostly around 22 years old – are either married, engaged, or pretty close to it. Maybe it’s because my alma mater has a shockingly limited dating scene, and my gay friends often aren’t even allowed to get married.

Nevertheless, as I stepped out into the real world last week, it felt more like stepping onto the arc. My single peers around me have felt the same way, and together we wondered: what the fuck?

Chapter One: First Comes Love…

Before graduating from Georgetown a few weeks ago, I was perfectly used to never seeing couples in my day-to-day life. Very few people dated there, and those who did showed little affection in public. I once had a gender and theology professor say how stunned she was at the lack of visible sexuality on our campus.

I could never figure out the reason why our school was not one of couples, dating, or even much sex (at least not that was being discussed.) Was it the catholic background? The fact that rich, socially-conservative prepsters dominated much of the scene?

I did have a few friends at Georgetown who were “seeing” someone, but it was always an arrangement somewhat shy of suggesting a “couple.” I doubt that many of them lasted past graduation day.

Across town – on the scene, in my gay community, in the land of TNG and Dupont and U Street – things were somewhat different. I had several friends who were in relationships, but it didn’t make me feel like this, like I was the only single person in a room of pairs.

Was it because they were gay? Did the fact that they didn’t fit the relationship paradigm our society has set make it seem less valid or real in my mind? Am I really bothered at present by the visible presence of heterosexuality and not couples?

Or maybe it was because my gay couples in DC were young, fun, and made my life – including my sex life – more interesting and not less.

Chapter Two: Then Comes Marriage…

“I’ve set a goal,” I announced on my way to happy hour on Friday night. “I will get laid by next Sunday.” I was only half-kidding.

My newfound friends and I had been talking about the fact that there weren’t a ton of single people in our large group of incoming hires, currently trapped together in an intensive training program. Many were in serious relationships and I had been surprised at several points to be introduced to 22-year-old spouses.

So finding flings for any of us seemed a long way’s off. And this was despite the fact that we had heard from our predecessors that our month of training would be one of shots, suspended judgement, and hookups.

“I just don’t get it,” a friend said over drinks, puzzled by the fact that even many of our single-at-first-sight peers had long distance beaus. “I moved here to meet new people. Why would you want to be in a relationship with your phone? I barely have time to talk to my roommate!”

While I took comfort in not being alone in my despair, I also began to feel that if the problem wasn’t just in my head I would need to take action to get action.

Chapter Three: From the Cradle to the Grave

“We’re so…”

“Boring.” I finished M’s sentence to propose what our group had become. “We get up at five, we eat dinner at six in the evening, we’re in bed by eleven. This is my grandma’s schedule.”

M, a hetero woman who gets my sense of humor, suggested that I ask my grandma what she does to get laid. I didn’t take her advice.

Instead I wondered about the ambivalence of my feelings towards couplehood. On the one hand, I wanted to avoid the path of my parents – married at 20, living in the same house their whole adult lives… I knew that wasn’t for me. And now I found myself appalled to be surrounded by couples, some with rings on their fingers.

But wasn’t that what I wanted? Didn’t I want a relationship – albeit one that didn’t hold me back or let me grow complacent, grow boring or grow old?

Am I just jealous? That doesn’t seem right. I had never felt jealous of my coupled friends – homo or hetero – in the past.

Maybe the problem is that by being feeling so fenced in by couples, I am always reminded of my own singleness. And I am reminded that prospects of finding someone may be more difficult than I had imagined.

“I’m open to dating. I just feel like I haven’t met the right person yet,” my friend said.

“Me neither.” I took another swig of my Coors Light and looked around the bar. I wondered where he was.

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