Basic Bisexual Bitches Unite!

On men.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the emails and texts, the job-board leads, the well-wishes and kind thoughts you’ve directed my way after the last newsletter went out. I really appreciate you looking out for me. Keep sending job postings my way if you feel so called, and may we all be working at endeavours that feed us more than bread.

Ok, plot twist!

I think men are HOT. obviously #notallmen. But, like, many of them?

You may, dear reader, yet again be wondering what the fuck you have signed up for, since a woman having *very* heterosexual attraction to men is not really news to anyone. It is, in fact, how we all came to be here, reading Substacks, opening emails, eating apples with peanut butter, and petting cats.

But, it IS news to me. More specifically, my attraction to men is news to me.

Yet more shocking, is that I have been going on dates with, yep, you guessed it—men. And I’m astonished at how well it’s all been going. It’s FUN, you guys. Men are fun to spend time with — at least the one’s I’m hanging out with. And the whole experience has surprisingly been passionate and romantic(?!). I kind of wish I had stuck my head out the car window of the group-think insanity that I participated in for many years of my young adulthood (social justice culture more broadly, but the second wave feminist man-hating hangover more specifically) to breath the passing air and have this realization. We’re all sucking on each-other’s farts in here until we roll down the window, or better yet, get out and stretch our legs.

I’m not even going to go into misogyny or unhealed masculinity or any of the well-trodden scrips and caveats I’m supposed to type next. I know that some of you will bristle at this, and others will relax. You do what you gotta do.

a text exchange with a man

Men are fun for me because it’s easier to say ‘no’ or ‘not yet’, or ‘not that’ to them. I’m surprised by this and I’ve yet to really make sense of it. I find it brain-breaking because I often have at least some difficulty saying what I really need and want. Maybe they’re more used to rejection and it cuts less deep? Maybe they’re just excited to be there and more willing to accommodate and bend, especially if it’s something of little consequence? Maybe I’m giving myself permission to be more discerning. Maybe they just want to touch my boobs that badly and are willing to engage every ounce of equanimity they have to achieve this mutually pleasurable goal? I’m not sure, but it’s doing me good to practice turning towards my own desires and preferences, and as kindly and honestly as I can, communicating those to another person who probably wants to put their dick in my mouth. So far so good.

There’s a nice one in rotation now who sometimes aims for my mouth but misses and the corner where my lips and cheeks connect has been getting a lot of action lately.

Romantic kissing action, that is!

Unless you prefer to stay in the gutter.

Who knows what the future will hold, but I like the person I am becoming—someone who is terrified and does it anyway, someone who is pretty flawed and trying to do better, someone who is open to acting on heretical thoughts, someone who just says fuck it and blurts out what they think. Someone who gets to like the things they like, without self-judgement or shame.

Hello my name is Ada Dragomir, and I really like dick men.