I tend to compartmentalize my relationships: friends with whom I walk&talk or meet for tea or dinner or movie night; friends with whom I go out dancing; running buddies; climbing buddies. And sometimes, friends with benefits, with whom I usually share little more than sex and some emotional and/or intellectual connection.
It wasn’t always that way for me. In my earlier “serious” relationships with sexual partners, we shared much more. But in only one relationship that involved sex did I also share my adventurous sides with my partner, and that was with my sailing buddy over two decades ago, my first “great love” and first “serious partner”. We were friends, buddies, comrades, sailing partners competing together as a team, sailing buddies going on fun adventures together, shelter for each other from our dysfunctional families of origin, source of encouragement to explore the world. I’ve never since had any other relationship like that, nor do I seek it out or believe it possible anymore.
In California, I had a sailing buddy with whom we tried to also be friends with benefits, but it didn’t work: we found that we could either sail together, as platonic sailing partners on a team, or we could have sex together, but we couldn’t do both. So, first we tried to be platonic sailing partners; but the sexual attraction, and thus sexual tension, between us was too strong, so we eventually agreed to find other sailing partners and be friends with benefits. And that worked: the boundaries were clear, we compartmentalized our intimacy, limited our closeness.
For a couple of years between California & Colorado, I had a nonbinary transfem friend who was also a climber (mostly a boulderer) with whom we had two phases of being sexual friends, and in a way it was nice, fun to go climbing with them (& common friends) and then come home and act as if we were “partners”. But it was always just for a few days, a long weekend, because we lived in two different States, so that automatically compartmentalized the relationship, setting specific, practical boundaries and limits to our closeness.
I love the camaraderie, shared experiences, and special intimacy I have with my climbing buddies and running buddies, who are all cis-het men. And I also like the fact that the boundaries of our relationships are clear, our closeness and intimacy are limited. When I was trying to “date” people and using the apps about a year and a half ago, I tended to avoid, or be uninterested in, people who were explicit runners or climbers; and when I was seeing the transgirl who was a serious runner and wanted to go running with me, I was very clear and unmovable in my “No”: running was what I did with my buddies, my cis-het guy friends, it was my “bro-time”, like climbing, not something I was interested in doing with someone who was my sexual or romantic partner.
Something has been feeling a little different for me in these past two days, since the interaction with the man who showed interest in me at the race on Saturday. I’ve allowed myself to think about those interactions and, especially, to let myself explore my feelings around what happened and what it could feel like for me if there had been some “future opportunity” with him. There was definitely a mutual “noticing” of each other, mutual interest, I am sure of that. And it feels flattering, first of all, simply because a guy I found attractive also showed interest towards me. But thinking about it a little deeper, I must admit that his being a trail runner, too, adds something to my interest, to the pleasure or gratification I feel, and to the wish that something had come out of it. It adds to my pleasure to know that it was both a cis-man (I assume, a queer cis-man) AND a trail runner showing an interest in me that was beyond athletic.
It can be flattering to know that someone finds you physically attractive; and it’s very gratifying for me to feel the (mutual) athletic admiration that my running & climbing buddies have for each other, and the fact that with my buddies this admiration is wholly platonic feels safe & comfortable, I cherish that simple, brotherly connection. But I must admit that the possibility of that runner at the race on Saturday finding me both athletically AND sexually attractive feels nice. And I must also admit that the fantasy of sharing both sex and a deep interest like trail running with another queer man feels like something that I might want or enjoy… And this comes as a surprise to my own self.
The Little Prince and the Fox 