I have the holy trinity of sex problems. I know how to solve them—but I’m too scared to try.

How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Stoya and Rich here. It’s anonymous!

Dear How to Do It,

I’m a 26-year-old woman who has never had sex or a relationship, mainly because I’m fat, unattractive, and my standards are way too high. For years I’ve fantasized obsessively about imaginary hot men and beautiful women having epic romances and amazing sex. Does the fact that I’m equally turned on by the thought of the man and the woman, and I fantasize from both of their POVs, possibly mean I’m bisexual? Or does the fact I never imagine two men or two women together mean I’m just another straight chick who’s into romance?

As stupid as it probably sounds I really, truly don’t know. In real life I have only ever had two crushes, both guys I had long friendships with before these feelings developed, and both of them rejected me when I made my feelings known. I have never felt this way about a female friend, but that could just be because my only female friends are fellow fat and/or less conventionally beautiful women.

Part of me wants to be bi because I feel like I might have an easier time finding a girlfriend who meets my standards, but is still willing to give me a chance, than a boyfriend. But another part of me is freaking terrified of being openly bi or in a same-sex relationship in today’s political climate. How do I figure this out?

—Bi Or Not?

Dear Bi Or Not?,

A lot of people feel very strongly that sexual orientation is innate and immutable, thus the concept of choice in the matter is not only irrelevant, it’s offensive. It’s true that those on the right have attempted to weaponize this notion of choice (look at the recent Supreme Court ruling that reopens the door for conversion therapy), but I take less of an issue overall with the role of choice here than many queer people seem to. Given all we know about the various hardships that can come as a result of deviating from a heteronormative lifestyle, choosing to be queer is a pretty damn queer thing to do. Not that it’s so cut and dried for most people—I think very few people wake up and say, “Queer is what I am today!” Regardless, I don’t really care how people get there and what the precise ratio of innateness to volition there is in any single queer person. We make choices all day long that shape our lives and not suppressing our sexuality and living in our truth is an ongoing choice made by many queer people.

I say this to encourage you to experiment. Choose bi. Why not? At this point, what do you have to lose? Given your inexperience, it’s too difficult to untangle exactly what your interactions with your fantasies might mean about your sexuality. But it does seem fair to characterize you as bi-curious, so I encourage you to investigate that curiosity with actual bi sex and/or romance. The way many people figure this stuff out is through experience though there is a catch there—be careful to not let one bad experience or underwhelming chemistry scare you away from all queer sex. You may want to give it a few tries. Also try not to conflate sex and romance—there are people who strictly have sex with one gender, no romance desired, and vice versa. There are individuals you may feel more sexually or romantically inclined toward, regardless of their gender. This is really just something that you have to feel out (literally, I guess). Right now it’s very conceptual and at least some degree of clarity should arise when it enters the realm of the practical.

It’s good to have standards and to be aware of whether they are impeding what you actually want from life. There is no doubt that fatness is stigmatized and it can greatly complicate the endeavor to find a partner. But you also must realize that there are plenty of fat people who have sex and find love (maybe not in that order, but also, often exactly in that order) and so I want to dissuade you from placing all the blame on your size and/or using it as an excuse to avoid pursuing what you want. It may be more difficult for you, and unfairly so, but you can have love and sex in your life. If you believe that, those things should be easier to attain.

Dear How to Do It,

My husband recently got a CPAP machine after many years of very loud snoring (and obviously the health issues that came with it). I’m happy for him and that he finally took this leap! One problem: It’s sort of a spontaneous sex killer. Once the mask is on, he’s done for the night and there’s no unplanned fun to be had once we’re trying to get to bed. That was a big part of our sex life before. I know part of it is just accepting that things will have to change but I miss the ease of it (though I do love all the benefits of both of us getting a good night’s rest). Any advice?

—The Mask

Dear The Mask,

It’s true, sometimes solutions to issues come at the expense of spontaneity. Reading your letter, Viagra immediately sprung to mind as a parallel to your problem. Relying on a pill that takes about 30 to 60 minutes to take effect can really sap sex of its spontaneity. But there’s a reason the drug remains popular: Enough people think it’s worth using to put up with its limitations. What they lose in spontaneity, they make up in erection quality, and they value that so they adapt.

Adapting is indeed your task here. It doesn’t seem like it would mean too much of an adjustment to have sex before your husband dons his CPAP mask. Sure, that might require a bit of what is technically planning that plays more like strategizing. If you want to leave the door open for sex, ask him to wait to put the mask on. If this results in him falling asleep before he can wear it, he can set an alarm for a time that he knows he’ll be asleep whether you two have sex or not (early in the night, say midnight or 1 a.m.), so that he can put it on then. You can also expand your sexual purview to include more than just bedtime encounters. Get the spontaneity you want during the day or early evening, for example. You are happy that he’s been proactive about his health by taking up a trusted remedy. Continue to honor that while finding workarounds.

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Dear How to Do It,

I, a gay male, was planning to meet up with a quick hookup later in the day when he started sending me more pictures that really just turned me off. The more I saw the more I didn’t like what I saw! My approach in these scenarios is to really just stop replying but is there a better way? I always feel bad but it would feel worse to have sex I don’t want to have. How can I let someone down easy?

—On Second Thought…

Dear On Second Thought…,

Tapering off communication is not exactly ideal, but neither is the position of having to tell someone, “Actually, it turns out I don’t want to have sex with you.” People are often afraid of telling and receiving the truth (sometimes it seems on principle), but reasons for avoiding this specific kind of interaction go beyond cowardice. Frank honesty in this arena is often not well-received—when someone has incontrovertible evidence of being rejected, they can react negatively and it’s much easier to hurl rage at someone who is basically still a hypothetical human in their head when you’ve only had pithy interactions on an app. When being straightforward goes left, you’ve found yourself a new problem, which is annoying and exactly the kind of thing you probably wanted to avoid when you decided to just tell the truth.

I think there’s another, more charitable reason to avoid radical honesty on apps: You are destined to be an insignificant character in the other person’s life and you don’t want to leave an outsized mark. Giving indication that the more you saw of this person, the less interested in him that you were could hurt his feelings. It could be something he carries with him for a while (forever, even), lamenting how he doesn’t measure up or wondering which part(s) of his sent you packing. Recusing yourself from undue influence is part of knowing your place and acknowledging the subjectiveness of attraction: Someone else out there is going to want to bone this guy, so why should your position on that affect him at all? The humane thing to do is to try to leave his self-image unaltered.

Sometimes in their profiles, people will tell you to block if not interested. Sometimes in chats, people will explicitly ask for a heads up if it’s not a match. I think you can be curt (but kind) with them and let them know you won’t be moving forward as efficiently as possible. For anyone else who isn’t so explicit, I think the approach you described is as good as any. Creating space—slower replies and palpably less enthusiasm, for example—allows them to fill in their own ego-saving story. White lies here are also permissible: You have to take a work call, your friend just asked for help with something that needs immediate attention. We are, after all, talking about a medium, the hook-up app, where anyone who has any sense of etiquette norms knows that no response is a response. Wielding that silence tactfully can save everyone involved grief.

—Rich

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