History Helps

friends, lending them your overalls, and casually touching hands in the oat milk aisle at the supermarket. Going low is the more sensual avenue, such as making them a playlist, getting your septum pierced, or offering to touch up their shag mullet. Go high for the nonbinaries who were radicalised by Judith Butler and go low for the nonbinaries enlightened by jungle juice.

After you’ve successfully and metaphorically (or literally) put a leash on them comes the more immediate seduction: getting them back to your salt-lamp lit room to do it in a way my parents nor the straggot Peter Dutton could ever begin to imagine.

Inviting me over for tea elicits an immediate response, but be sure you’re well stocked with herbal options. Offer to crochet with the more sapphic ones. Or suggest attending an erotic haiku reading at Sideway on a Friday night.

When trying to move things back to their apartment/decolonised sharehouse/the nearest bathroom, someone has to be direct. This is either you or them, and you’ll know who’s who based on who says slay more.

Now, you have them somewhere private, and it’s time to ask for consent. This can start as simply as putting on a Studio Ghibli film, discussing your most toxic ex, or sharing a cigarette.

More complex techniques include studying the number of authors of colour they have on their bookshelf, or, conversely, showing off the diversity of your own. A word of warning though. If your bookshelf is not majority second-hand or Penguin, make sure it is organised aesthetically to distract them from this failing.

If you’ve gotten this far and are wondering at which point to pull out your Lana Del Rey vinyl, stop reading. At some point here, you’ve sneaked a first kiss and realise that you don’t actually mind the smell of their septum piercing. Assuming you have down pat the rudiments of sex, let’s talk about that holiest of holy words: climax. (No, I thought you were bringing the strap-on).

Crucial here, is the playlist you put on. Unless you’re experienced, or sleeping with them regularly, you need to have some good tunes to make them forget that their mum still mispronouns them. Personal favourites include Simon & Garfunkel’s 1981 live concert in Central Park, or a mix of Mitski/Azaelia Banks/Hozier.

Good sex, I’ve heard, begins with foreplay. Acknowledgement of country is a good opener, as is listening to their 3-hour interactive lectorial on exactly what kind of nonbinary person they are with a supplementary reading on the infinite iterations of their pronouns or the moments and queer relationships they had through their childhood. Alternatively, if you’re looking to top, try giving head while introducing your stuffed animals.

Phrases like “oh that’s so they/them of you” are a must, and if whispered at just the right moment, can induce orgasm. So too can offering them an ointment for their infected nipple piercing and complementing the boldness of their pubic hair styling. If these fail, fuck them tenderly, so that three weeks later they’ll be convinced that you’re going to cure them of their borderline personality disorder and they’ll cure you of your cisgenderness. Having followed these steps closely you will find yourself well-endeared to your nonbinary lover, as well as their nonbinary friends, and exes. All of these individuals will be potential candidates for bedding, but proceed with caution as you may find yourself itching for a pronoun change.