This time last year, as summer turned to fall in Chicago, I did what many lonely, big-hearted fools do and got caught up with an emotionally unavailable person who I wanted to have sex with. It was, in so many words, the season when the weather turns cold and dark and people start looking for the ease and comfort of a short-term relationship.
The season of the cuffs, according to lifestyle and sex writers in addition me, takes place of November to March. Like clockwork, the phrase is trending every winter since 2013when the rapper Fabolous introduced it in the popular lexicon. (Yes, like so much of our contemporary slang, “cuffing season” has its origins in African-American English.)
That’s where my winter friend came in.
We met on Tinder and agreed to get some non-alcoholic drinks on a Thursday evening at my local haunt. About two hours later the bar became livelier and we decided to hang out ‘somewhere quieter’, aka my house. We started making out and then having sex.
And eventually we started seeing each other once or twice a week. At some point between these dates and hookups, I stopped calling him “Tinder guy” to my friends and started calling him “Winter Bae” or Winter Boyfriend.
My winter boyfriend had many admirable qualities in a partner: consistency, courtesy, and clear communication. In fact, he was so good at communicating that he made it perfectly clear that we should remain informal. He was explicit about that not looking for a serious relationship (or at least not with me).
I’m in favor of it casual datingbut it’s hard to say that someone who takes you out to dinner and licks your genitals is just now a friend. Still, I swear the “boyfriend” part of my completely private nickname was more of a nice and easy shorthand for him than a desire to elevate our status.
At some point in January 2025, he reminded me of his intention to remain unattached. The disappointment I felt about this indicated that I had ended up in some kind of pseudo-relationship.
The part of my psyche that has been conditioned by a culture of rom-coms, marriages and love matches buzzed. We saw each other so often (if only to enhance our mood with oral sex after the movie) that the heteronormative sleeper in me was activated. My female fantasy had pushed a little too far into the real world, and I really started to imagine a long-term relationship. Maybe Winter Bae could be For-Life Bae?
That fantasy came crashing down last March, when he broke up with him as cuffing season came to an end. Even though I always knew our “relationship” had an expiration date, I still sent him several long and angry texts telling him I didn’t deserve to be dumped via iMessage.
And while I was quite right to worry about how it all turned out, it would have been nice to find some chemical comfort in hugging and fucking Tinder guys over the winter. And anyway, I can’t be that angry; it played out pretty much like the typical course of a cuffing season situation.
Physical touch and companionship make up for the dark days of December and January more bearablebut I’m personally not in love with the fact that the origins of cuffing season are so blatantly heteronormative. The metaphors ‘handcuffs’ and ‘ball and chain’ in Fabolous’ lyrics feel so regressive. Fabolous’ “Cuffin Season” also strengthens the whole Madonna-Whore complex– the idea that you can be a woman or a whore (or in this case a winter woman or a summer woman).
I know it’s completely base to say that some rap music from a decade ago has a misogynistic slant, but I also hate the lyrical implication that there’s something artificial about wanting come into contact with someone temporarily during the cold months. Winter is a time when partying and dating is less attractive because no one wants to go outside and everyone with a weakened immune system does. taking an additional risk by gathering indoors during what is often a peak season for infection.
Maybe it’s time to approach our Q4 slut a little more consciously.
I suggest we take a page from Beyoncé’s “Cuff It,” in which Bey sings about partying, getting drunk and/or high, and a “hypersonic, sex-erotic“Old times with someone. Although the title of the song refers to trapping someone in a relationship, it is mainly about messing around. The lyrics don’t even mention playing wife.
What I’m saying is, let’s reconsider what “cuffing season” is – and what isn’t.
It’s not really about locking it up. It’s about making sure you can have sex all winter long. Let’s abolish the hierarchical heteronormativity of being one’s winter partner.
The way I see it, cuffing season is fundamentally about a physical connection. Unless there has been some explicit communication about dating before marriage, the romantic partnership part of winter hoeing is fun. I enjoy the feeling of emotional and intellectual involvement, even in casual sexual relationships, but I know it’s just pretend.
As the weather turns colder, I challenge everyone to remember this: There are ways to access the kind of intimacy and physical connection that comes with cuffing season, without having to play house. Personally, I’m going to find comfort in the strange utopia of free sex and lovestay vulnerable and brave, ask people out on dates (and maybe even go back to the dating apps when it gets too cold outside.)
Plus, living as a queer person in a big city means I can return to the tried and tested warmth of gay bathhouses.
Let’s stay true to our hearts, stay slutty, and better communicate emotional boundaries. We can leave the fantasy of the winter woman in 2024.
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