Homeless Shelters and Pole Dancers

Dear Jen,
I just read your short story, "My Homeless Boyfriend," and, sadly, my love life is creeping down that same path. There were times while reading it that I said, "Oh, thank god, I'm not the only one!"

My question is how to stop it before it goes too far?  Or better yet, how to stop it without seemingly becoming the bitch? Or should I just let it happen and hate myself for it later?
-Helping the Helpless

Dear Helpless,
One of the many, many scary things about that story is that when I wrote it, I thought it was just about this funny, freaky, not-so-fresh thing I did (for those of you who haven't read it, I'm going to let the title speak for itself).  It wasn't until my mother called to tell me she'd read it, a sob of despair and disbelief lodged in her throat, that it occurred to me that perhaps the whole thing was a tad more fucked up than I'd thought. 

It sounds like you've got a touch of the denials yourself, because thanking your lucky stars that you're not in this alone is not what you should be doing right now.  That's like reading a pamphlet on gonorrhea and saying, "hurts when I pee?  Yes!   Butthole a burning ring of fire?  OMG, that is so totally me!"  While wanting to belong is a natural, human, desire, there are certain groups you do not want to be a part of.  My "Homeless Dudes Clean Up Real Nice And Can Never Leave You Because They've Got Nowhere Else To Go" Club is not one of them.

There's nothing bitchy about breaking up with someone who's totally dysfunctional, but there is something incredibly self-destructive about staying with them. Mr. Ain'tgotnohome needs to get his own poop in a scoop - you can not scoop it for him.  All you will wind up doing is sinking down to his dysfunctional level, while spending your every last dime buying him groceries and deodorant.  Tell him it's over, hand him back his shopping bags, and get on with your life.

Dear Jen,
I have so many intimacy issues it's embarrassing.  I used to use alcohol to loosen up, but don't anymore, so my little sex kitten-like self is very repressed these days.  I've started taking a pole dancing class which I love.  The point of it is to get in touch with your female, sensual self, but a part of me is worried that if I do my dance in front of my main squeeze, I'll be acting.  I want to come on to him and have it be fun and sexy, yet I think that at my core I'm just really shy, embarrassed and scared that I will look like a phony. 

How do I come on to him without feeling like a fake or relying on vino to be less inhibited? 
- Wussy Pussy

Dear Wussy,
First of all, taking a pole dancing class is, as you said, much more about building self-confidence than twirling around your boyfriend's face in a pair of clear-heeled stilettos and nipple tassels.  That's a tall order for anyone to pull off without feeling a tad self-conscious.  Or without wine.

One time, back in the day of answering machines, I fell off my bed, hit the "memo" button with my toe and recorded myself going at it.  The next day at work I called in to get my messages and got an earful of me moaning and saying all sorts of filthy things.  Did I want to die?  You bet.  Did I leave work immediately to destroy that tape in case someone, somehow, should hear it?  Hell yes.

We all have varying degrees of self-consciousness surrounding our sexuality, just as we're all performing to some extent.  You need to stop scrutinizing yourself and just do what feels good.  You also need to remember that although you may act confident around your friends, bitchy around your mother, impatient around your drug dealer - it's all still you, you're not being phony.  You're just more comfy with some roles than others. 

I recommend you keep taking your classes, focus on your fabulousness and trust that your main squeeze wouldn't be with you unless he wanted to throw it in you, regardless of how adept you are at crawling around on a pole.