The next time we got together as a group was the last time. I walked away from Dom, and although we stayed in touch for a while through IM, he continued to mock me and confuse me with his vacillations about his sexual orientation. Not that his choice would make any difference to me personally, but because he had always made such a big deal out of it I just wanted to know where I stood with him.
Things fizzled out until there was no contact, and then Google reunited us when he searched for my name. We exchanged the icebreaker e-mails and I asked, in that socially phatic way, how the love life was treating him. Not missing a beat, he told me he was still with the Girlfriend. And from that point, I decided to stop caring and stop trying to understand Dom or his sexual orientation, which seemed as unpredictable as the current financial markets.
I tell this story of Dom because this first part of the essay has served as an exercise in reverse engineering, as I write to figure out why I got thinking about the self sexual. Dom may be my first observable specimen or case of the self sexual.
The title must seem strange. I guess it conjures up the image of a dedicated masturbator. But in my mind, self-sexuality is not a synonym for autosexuality, that is, pursuing sex with oneself exclusively or preferring it above any other type of sexual congress. Those I would see as self sexuals still want to seek satiating coital interaction with other individuals. It seems to me that self-sexuality should be conceptually considered as homosexuality and heterosexuality. My intention here is to expound on the term self sexual without destructive or pejorative connotations. So, this won't be a coining of another catchphrase for a new 'type' of person or phenomenon, but rather an emerging all-encompassing ideology and world-view, as valid and as pervasive as heterosexuality or homosexuality.
What if a self sexual is a form or type of metrosexual? I don't think so. Metrosexuals, as I understand it, are highly groomed, highly fashionable, almost androgynous incarnations of modern men. Women love them because they're so polished and striking, but infuriate them because they spend more time in front of the mirror than they do. And while the subject of women's conceptions or expectations of men is outside the scope of this essay, it's important to note that women themselves are ambivalent about metrosexuals.