What Makes Healthy Attractive

Most women I know swipe left on the guy in the dating app with the shirtless bathroom-mirror selfie. Even though, 99% of the time, the guy doing it IS ripped so shouldn’t it be impressive?

Thing is, we swipe left on those guys because of what posting a shirtless bathroom-mirror selfie tends to say about personality. For men (I admit there’s a shameless double-standard when it comes to women). Look at my buff body, doesn’t this entice you? I don’t know proper lighting, that’s why there’s massive screen glare and mad shadows behind me. I never leave the house so I couldn’t get a shot at the beach where I’d naturally be shirtless, but I NEED to show you what I’m working with here to up my desirability points.

He may be showing he’s fit and healthy, but it’s giving desperate. Basic. Lowbrow.

We’re more likely to swipe right on the guy in the snug-fitting shirt that hugs his guns well. It’s not IN-YOUR-FACE, but gives an underlying confidence (I don’t need to flaunt a very obvious, conventionally attractive asset to seal the deal) as well as allowing the myriad of positive traits within the fitness tree to shine as well.

Everyone loves a body in shape, mostly because of the very obvious, visually-appealing, #1 reason that’s always focused on: it’s nice to look at. It’s sexy. It’s a plus to date someone who works out. #Fitspo is all over the Internet under the guise of health consciousness, beautiful athletic bodies at the forefront. But the non-physical, positive aspects tied into it don’t get the same shine. Taking care of your body IS one of the top pillars of health. And healthy people tend to be attractive people. For a LOT more than just looking good.

Discipline. Every adult KNOWS that routinely carving out time to put your body through physically taxing actions for the sole purpose of building strength and stamina is WORK. It’s not really considered fun. And it’s tiring. Especially while balancing work, kids, adulting. We’d rather be chilling on our couch. Controller in hand. Nomming on cookies. Sleeping. Mentally slothing out on social media. All those things that are way less work and much more appealing than getting our ass to the gym. It’s EFFORT. But at the end of the day, it’s mind over matter. I literally tell my friends I have to “catapult myself to the gym now” because I am mentally grabbing myself by the britches and slinging myself out my door before I come up with any more excuses not to (rain, sub-zero temps, and still-sore-from-last-workout are the big ones). Because often you DON’T really want to do it, but you do because you know it’s GREAT for you. Which is why it requires…

Motivation. Hella motivation. Hella self-motivation. Because while you can lean on others for encouragement and to keep you accountable, nobody can go out and get this shit done but yourself. And that’s attractive. Consistently incorporating exercise into your life for the sole purpose of improving your health and physical prowess is determination. It means you understand the concept of delayed gratification and are willing to invest in yourself for your own betterment in the long run. Motivated people, especially self-motivated people, get shit done. And it’s because they can give themselves their OWN push and aren’t afraid to face something challenging by themselves. And that motivation to push themselves comes from…

Self-love. You have to respect a person working to be the best version of themselves because they VALUE themselves. Their health and mobility is important, and a strong part of what keeps a human youthful, vibrant, and energetic through what you hope to be a long, happy life with as little medical intervention as possible. They’re empowered through a commitment to themselves, and confident. And we all know confidence is sexy. Those who love themselves take care of themselves, because they want a strong mind and body. And folks are always admired for their…

Strength. I have older women in my life with dancer’s bodies. Personal training and running marathons in their 60s. A retired grandma who continued to volunteer part-time within the education system in her 70s just to keep her mind active. Healthy mind/body/spirit is a THING, ya’ll. Another grandma was sturdy af up until her 80s. Never needed a cane, never had a hip replacement. Stayed wearing her jazzy outfits and perfume when she went out, and you couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes, even in her old age. Hell, she didn’t even exercise. Imagine how much more formidable she could have been if she had. I look up to all of them. Strength and determination are captivating. A strong body and mind are coveted. You know how they say you’re the average of your five closest friends? My four closest friends ALL make a point to incorporate exercise into our lifestyles (Hey, I’m five!). And we never once even tried to push it on each other; it just happened organically that way. Positive influence rubs off, as does negative. I see videos on social media now of ladies in their 80s deadlifting at the gym. I hope that’ll be me.

I speak from the female perspective, but it goes both ways. A man sees a woman who tends to her health as positive and attractive. She takes pride in her appearance. She’s motivated to keep herself healthy. A strong, determined partner to rear children. A smart teammate who makes healthy decisions that will benefit the family.

Good health will always look attractive because it symbolizes so much in a world where the opposite is the norm. It makes you look better, feel better, perform better. It instills the qualities of motivation, determination, discipline, strength. THOSE are the attractive qualities you can’t see right away, but are buried under the superficial surface of “fit”. A long-term commitment to one of the most important things in EVERYONE’s life is the body we live in for the time we’re here. And the commitment to care for it is not limited to gymgoers. Dancers. Runners. Rock-climbers. Those who get a walk in every morning. Cyclists. Acrobats. Sports. There’s so many ways to actively take care of your body, just by putting in a few hours out of the 168 ones we go through every week. It’ll never NOT be worth it.

Taking care of yourself is appealing. Self-esteem is enticing. Striving to continually improve oneself is engaging. Water in your system and sunlight on your face and nourishment to your soul…

Good health is attractive.

Posting shirtless bathroom-mirror selfies on a dating app is not.

~Tael

(This is not a post on dating lol. Be your best self.)

The Cult of Yelp

A softer, less aggressive term swap could be “tribe.” The Tribe of Yelp. But I used to run with a pack of girls called the “Cult Busters” in high school, with our secret codes, nicknames, and stalker-journal activities. Trust me, we were absolutely harmless.

Yelp is an urban household verb now. To “Yelp” a place. We look it up on Yelp beforehand to see what’s up. We write our review afterwards to put folks on or warn them. Other review sites have gained some niche footholds too. Google Reviews. G2Crowd. Healthgrades. TripAdvisor. But Yelp’s the OG.

According to my profile, I’ve been Yelping since January 2011. And I loved the site even before I was letting the world know my own viewpoints on the businesses I encounter. The concept of customers being able to leave authentic reviews of their experience, tips on best days to go, which waiters are awesome, tidbits only a genuine encounter would generate, a know-before-you-go insight, was highly appealing to a truth-seeker like me. But being able to leave my OWN legit mark? Praise for a spot that impressed the highly-difficult-to-impress being that I am, or VENGEANCE on an establishment that treated me hostilely? Mini-writing assessments of food, travel, and adventure?

Initiation called to me, easy.

I’m one of those writers without any professionally published works. The sort of identity that follows you from childhood, where you amassed a collection of journals, created so many stories in your head (some even made it to some form of paper), longing to be a famous author until you grew up and realized how commercialized the publishing world had become and what it actually took to make your dream pieces commodifiable.

I let the world know my thoughts through Xanga. Console RPGs were my favorite genre because of the storyboarding; they were really just lengthy, playable fantasies in immersive format – reading through the controller. I devoured books as much as I wanted to write them, overwhelmed because how in the world would I write the same 300-ish page novels I loved so much? (And it HAD to be that long to be good.)

I apparently also used to blurt out to my mom’s acquaintances that I was starving and there was no food at home when I was a child.

Pair a love of writing with compulsive truth-vomit and you’ve got the kind of person who needs to be on Yelp flexing her composition muscles with sass and sincerity.

Surprisingly, it took me all the way until 2021 to get Elite. And when they first reached out to me for consideration, my initial thought was “Please God, I hope I don’t have to start tailoring my reviews now to be more…professional.” I mean, in one of my most memorable reviews I mention that I should have fornicated in a real estate office that screwed me over, out of pettiness. Pun and disrespect intended. But I mean, it’s definitely well-earned. Not just that I really should have left my sex-stank all over Consarah’s workstation, but the Elite status for sure. An urban adventurer “writer’s” dream. Some might think, “But it’s JUST YELP.” But to loyal clan-members, it’s a guidebook to avoiding the bar where too many folks’ credit cards got compromised, or deciding if that $30 “immersive pop-up” is really worth the money, or finding the tricky entrance to the tattoo shop you’re looking for. It’s also a chance to share your unfiltered truth with the world and help someone’s decision with your inherent communicative language. You get to be heard.

It feels good. Writing out of enjoyment, and not to impress or repackage myself for others. No one edits my shit there. 🙂

~Tael

P.S. If you wanna read that review, go here, scroll down, click to page 16 and look for the “Rapid Realty” review. Man, I’m glad they’re no longer in business.

Summer Serenade

I’m accustomed to heat.

Summer is my favorite season, memories steeped

In Grandma’s house recollections or urban streets.

With my cousins on the floor laid out on a sheet while she watches her stories.

In the big metal fan’s path blowing out relief cause AC ain’t cheap.

Wafting chicken grease from the kitchen;

DANGER.

She’s cooking so it’s a good 10 degrees hotter in there; expect waterfalls of sweat streaks.

Peeling sticky thighs off leather seats as you awaken from your afternoon sleep.

Scratching mosquito bite blisters that oozed in the yard cause they found my blood a treat.

Feeling sand between my toes as I walk outside with bare feet with my country cousins.

Transport to city camp, trudging under the sun, rubber soles on concrete,

Heavy rays got us beat, but we find oases in cracked-open hydrants,

Indulge in cold water sweet.

Public pools, shower first, can’t swim, don’t go too deep.

Home alone, your mom’s at work, the days wide open on repeat.

Freedom.

Read, park, pool, play, eat.

Humid sunsets invoke nostalgia, skorts and jelly sandals, summer hair braided neat.

Library trips for Judy Blume, to get you through the week.

Punished for the whole summer because I wouldn’t speak,

Because I’d been a hungry child longing for skewered meat.

The sweat reminds me where I’ve come from, fond recollections seep

Throughout my subconscious, they overflow and peak.

The sun is my lover; I embrace and it greets me

With balmy Vitamin D buried down in my sheath.

I’ll take the bake of dog days, embrace the warm rays’ sweep.

And you’ll never catch me wishing for the days when there’d be sleet.

When I emerge outside, kiss my face when you meet me

And I won’t betray you to frost,

As long as you keep me.

Why I Deleted My Dating Apps During The Quarantine

Yes, during the very time that more people are flocking to them than ever.

I was over “dating” a long time ago. Like, before there was online dating. It was a fresh new “sport” to try out back in college but then I quickly realized people suck, and I don’t like perusing through them romantically the same way I once did library books.

Something about dressing up and presenting yourself in the best artificial manner possible comes across as very job-interviewish, and I’m not the biggest fan of those either but they’re necessary to survive.

Dating is not.

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I’ll admit i’m not very good at it because I hate it. Looking back at my track record, i’ve mostly slipped into relationships the “normal” (non-dating-app-initiated) way, with very serial monogamist tendencies. This is not to say that I don’t enjoy being alone; I live alone, enjoy the hell out of it, and am one of the least romantic women you’ll encounter. I never had girly dreams of a fancy expensive wedding (the cost of which could be a down payment on real estate) with a glamorous white dress, kids and a house outta Martha Stewart Living. I’ve only dabbled into the online-dating world in the past 3 years or so, and I wouldn’t call the experience pleasant. I’ve met gamers I didn’t click with, psychos who I’ve fled their apartment, friends-with-benefit failures who couldn’t even be counted on to show up, ONE actual relationship I don’t think I should have been in, and an incredibly disappointing sexual encounter that I had to try twice just to confirm the first was not a mistake. And this was after weeding through incredibly dull conversations, dudes who unmatched me after I said I wasn’t into orgies, dudes who fall off the face of the earth because they were the ones you might have actually been interested in, and a guy who just wanted to be friends but not meet up to hang out with me as friends and continue to solicit me for sexy pictures (???).

When the lockdown began, I saw the uptick in notifications from my dating apps. Strange, seeing as how I hadn’t matched/liked someone on my end since like 2 months ago. That should give you an indication as to how often I actually use them. In 4 months, I’d gone on a grand total of one whole date. Where were these “matches” coming from? Then I realized…OHHHH EVERYBODY IS BORED AND HORNY NOW!!

I let them build and build and build, because I got tired just thinking about reading through the assortment of incredibly non-witty intros and messages that would clearly show up front we weren’t a good fit. You know, like “Good Morning, how’s your day going?” NEXT. I’m sorry, this is perfectly polite, but I’m savage.

When I finally got around to reading through the…SHIT, my eyes glazed over. And I wondered, why subject myself to this if it’s not even fun? Why follow this trend if I see it as a chore?

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I find it incredibly exhausting…to get to know a person. I don’t like just talking to anybody, I DESPISE small talk and “pleasantries,” and can find socializing exhausting if i’m not especially clicking with the socializers. So if I’m going to make ANY effort, it needs to damn sure be worth it. There’s gotta be SOMETHING that makes me WANT to get to know you. Usually something interesting (I know I know, EVERYBODY thinks they are DIFFERENT). When we talk, I need to laugh (actually giggle, chuckle out loud), engage in a bit of teasing, learn something. Then YOU have to feel the same shit, agree to meet up with me, STILL get along with me in person and not turn out to be an ogre (hey, same with me), try to stay relaxed and not overthink and over-expect anything, feel something REAL, and then agree to keep the shit going, OR let them down gently if you ain’t into it without feeling like a complete asshole.

That is WORK.

Work for the right person? AMAZING and completely worth it! But work for countless “let’s sees” who you’ll barely remember months down the line? Draining…as…fuck.
“You should keep your dating apps,” my mom told me several days ago when I proposed the idea. “Just because you never know where you’re gonna find the guy. Just in case.”

Not when simply checking a notification from Random Joe #27 is so depleting. I can’t do it anymore. How do my peers juggle multiple potential daters at the same time when just investing in the PROSPECT of one makes me want to air-gun my cabeza?

So I deleted them. Leaving only Tinder as my “In Case of Emergency,” app (because it’s low-hassle) just in case I get really horny and need some bad-decision sex to take the edge off again. Once the quarantine is over of course.

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I’m seeing articles that the coronavirus is actually changing online dating for the better. People are having VIDEO CHAT DATES. Making plans months in advance to meet new people. Really forming actual bonds because there’s nothing else to do. If it’s helping people get through this, then I’m genuinely happy for them.

But it’s not my thing. It’s not for me. Unless i’ve met you already in person, you’re incredibly charming or witty with words (like a writer!), or you’ve shared some emotional aspect of yourself that allows me to feel connected with you, I have a hard time vibing with you over messages. I hate video chatting. And even though i’m stuck at home with nothing else to do, I don’t want to expend my energy swipe over-driving and video speed-dating hunting for a connection with someone.

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Because no matter how many similarities you have with the person, or boxes they check off from your relationship-person box-checking list in their profile, or even how good the date goes, it still…may…not…matter.

Depressing, huh?

Do I sound like a woman who’s given up? No, my babies; I promise you I haven’t. It’s just not my priority. I’m over the bullshit games that “dating” requires. Because let’s be honest: you CANNOT fully be…REAL. So I’d rather wander alone and stumble across the right soul when the universe dictates it’s my time. But until then…why weed through a revolving door of kindling what-ifs trying to force a spark?

If a spark’s to be had, it will find me.

Ninja…fucking…out.

~Tael

Demisexuality: It All Makes Sense Now

Nope, this is not a joke post; this is me taking my enlightenment very seriously. Because many see the definition of demisexuality and say it’s an unnecessary orientation that doesn’t NEED labeling, or duh, EVERYONE is this way, so you ain’t special, yah? But I have never so clearly understood my odd and largely sporadic sense of attraction that I’ve never been able to quite pin down until I explored this new label.

I’ve come across the term occasionally in the past few years. The first time I thought, yeah sounds like me. The second time I thought, hokay, I think I really am this thing. The third time, a few days ago, I thought, HOLY SHIT, THIS IS REAL.

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Because suddenly, patterns in my past dealings with attraction and heartbreak began to fall into place. Sure, most folks would LOVE an emotional connection with those they sleep with. But most can also still have sex without it easily. That’s why casual hookup culture is so prevalent and one-stands are common. But for what i’ll affectionately call the “demi” tribe, those are very difficult. I can only think of ONE time I may have been down for a hookup. Drunk at a party at college, grinding up on a guy who followed me to the bathroom when I got dizzy with the pretense of helping me get water, *may* have made out with me, and said “You know you want this,” as he placed my hand on his crotch. And I think I really DID want it, but I also had an off-campus boyfriend at the time so amidst my idiot party girl decisions, I knew I didn’t want to be a FULL cheater…? Anyway, it didn’t happen.

In grade school, you basically like who everybody else likes to fit in. The pop stars, basketball players, school jock heartbreaker, ohh squeal, hearts on your binder, he said hi to me in the hall blahblahblah. Once I left the realm of adolescence, I realized I didn’t have the same attraction to peeps as my peers did. When the girls around me would say “Oh, check out that hot guy over there,” I’d be the one squinting in the general direction like “Where? Where is he? Is that it?” And being severely underwhelmed.

Because it is EXTREMELY rare for me to experience on-sight physical attraction to someone, and I never knew why.

Whenever men hit on me, my initial reaction is suspicion. I don’t care how “conventionally attractive” they are (and I THINK I can usually spot a “conventionally attractive person” pretty good?). I have never thought “Damn he’s sexy, I’d love to hop on that.” More like “Why tf are you making me take my headphones out right now?” Attraction at first sight doesn’t exist for me.

When I do like someone, it’s because I’ve spent time with them. I’ve noticed their little quirks and chuckles. The cracks in their silly facade when they answer a question seriously. The mischievous glint when they parry back a witty comment without missing a beat. Or the eye contact they make as they watch you love their face burrowing between your thighs……………oops tangent! And it might take awhile to see these things unless they’re being completely natural with you off top. Which means demis often don’t know how we actually feel about the person until some time has passed.

It can be a chore if you’re really TRYING to find someone to connect with.

And it makes online dating an EXTREME hassle. Because you swipe incessantly, wondering if the person you COULD be *MAYBE* physically attracted to actually has the personality necessary to attract you for real since you still need BOTH. I’ve never been too sure of my “type” of men because I’ve been with a variety. I’ve even been with those I’ve only had the emotional connection with, but not the physical attraction. Because the connection was there, I was still able to sleep with them, but eventually I realized it wasn’t sustainable if every time I looked at them I thought WOOF.

So you’re cautious with your likes/matches because you’re trying to be sure there’s the best chance for a connection, but you’ll only REALLY know for sure if you meet them, probably like 3-5 times first, and if there’s still nothing there, go through the awkward “Oops, I’m just not feeling it,” “Wait, really, I thought we had a great time!” “Oh sure, it was nice but I don’t want to proceed sexually yet because your personality has not charmed the shit out of me, but should we try a few more times or just call it now before we waste any more energy??”

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Like dat.

But once you FINALLY overcome the GRIND of connecting emotionally and finding them adorable, the attraction mounts, and then the ATTACHMENT begins. Rapidly. And it can be hard to let go, because of how uncommon it is to feel the attraction in the first place. Which can cause a mess of feelings and tears and frustration if it doesn’t work out and trouble disconnecting because you WENT THROUGH ALL THIS WORK, and when’s the next time the STARS ARE GOING TO ALIGN to find this buildup AGAIN?? It’s exhausting. I can see why it’s classified smack in the middle of the sexual/asexual spectrum. Because demis may as well be nuns while that connection is missing. We’re just not INTERESTED.

But then comes the problem of when you ARE sexually wanting because the last connection didn’t work out, but finding emotional connection is sparse.

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Why are my friends like this?

It speaks to the current hookup culture that waiting an ENTIRE WEEK to sleep with someone is seen as this crazy obstacle now. It should NOT be HARD WORK. Why, BACK IN MY DAY…you know what, FORGET IT. And who KNOWS if I’d even find your friend HOT ANYWAY., PROBABLY NOT, because I’M DEMI. *Bitterbitterbitterbitter.*

I remember when the term “sapiosexual” became popularized years ago. I also identify with that one, however, while I may be highly attracted to intelligent individuals (teach me, senpai!), I am also attracted to glasses, genuine smiles, nice eyes, sarcastic wit, skateboarders….there’s no term for each one (thankfully). You can be attracted to intelligence AND other things. But even if a guy had all that ish, and the connection was missing, it would still be a dead-end for me. I wouldn’t even WANT to still sleep with the unicorn man of my dreams just for kicks because he had all the things I ever wanted. If I couldn’t confide a deep dark secret with him, his penis was useless. The point is, demisexuals don’t WANT to be demisexuals lol. At least I sure don’t. Hooray, I’ve finally gained clarity on my orientation, but I don’t WANT to be this kind of different, horny and angry over it (horngry?).

I would love to “order up” a quick hookup on Tinder to soothe the raging fire in my loins (because I’m experiencing quite a drought) but I can’t just DO IT. I can’t just open myself up to (metaphorically and quite literally) to a person I haven’t spent time and laughed with, assessed their character, and grown to LIKE in some way. Without that connection, it’s just sex. And I don’t want JUST sex with some random “conventionally hot” person. I want something passionate and powerful, with a delicious natural build-up, where our speech was never-ending foreplay and our words were extensions of our tongues teasing our minds and flesh and each confident touch sent electric currents up our joints. And if that ain’t there, then what’s the point?

(I may be a bit of an overachiever). I don’t need “just sex.”

I have always been on a never-ending quest for human connection, sexual or no. I crave authenticity and realness, deep bonds with folks who resonate on the same vibe, honest emotion. I think we all know how hard it is to find on just a friendly level. Move it to the realm where it’s required for intimacy and it makes life that much harder for those who won’t settle for anyone less, in a world where casual is where it’s at and, let’s face it, PEOPLE STRAIGHT UP SUCK. One time I tried settling for less a few years ago and the dope couldn’t even be a proper FWB; I ended up being less satisfied than before. I’m accumulating a lot of “Don’t Settle” lessons at this stage in my life.

I guess the silver lining is that demisexuals are willing to wait for something more meaningful (not like our hearts really give us a choice), which means more meaningful sexual encounters WHEN WE DO FIND THEM, but what do you do in the meantime if you’re a demi who’s not finding anyone to connect with on that level, AND not settling?

Tough it out miserably with your vibrator in the meantime is the main suggestion I keep getting.

Damn my standards. But at least I know I’m not alone.

~Tael