Time and time again I find myself having the same conversation online with gay men -- particularly, it seems, younger and/or newly out men. They don't hook up, they say, because hooking up is one of any number of unappealing things: immature, slutty, disgusting, pathetic, a sign of self-loathing and/or desperation. But the most common accusation of them all has to the often usage of the adjective meaningless in describing sex with strangers or people you're not formally dating. I want to take a moment here to defend hooking up, and to argue in fact that sex with strangers can be just as intimate, emotionally connected, transformative, and moving as sex with someone you love can be. And just like sex with someone you love, it can also be disastrous.

Let's first begin with a story from my own life. Travel back with me a few years to 2006, when I was visiting Ann Arbor for the "Against Health" conference here at the University of Michigan (see my post from way back then). It was a wonderful experience -- my very first academic conference! But the conference isn't what I'm here to talk about today. Instead, I want to relate an experience I had during my stay in Ann Arbor that Fall that continues to live with me today: quite simply, the most mindblowing, intimate, and transformative sexual connection I've ever experienced... (continue reading after the jump)

The night began like most nights for me while on the road. I returned back to my Bed and Breakfast after having a couple of drinks at the local gay bar to log online and cruise Manhunt until I passed out. But I found myself feeling randy, and so agreed to meet a graduate student who lived a cab ride away for a sleepover romp in the hay. I was feeling tipsy and fine, and he looked cute enough. His name, we'll say, was Niels. He was adorable in a nerdy kind of way, with a large nose, glasses, and a slender-to-average frame. I thought things were going to be disappointing when I showed up to his apartment and he made me wait for him to finish taking a shower. At the time, I though this a bit rude and frustrating, given the late hour (perhaps 2 AM or so). But I waited patiently on the couch while he lathered and rinsed, passing the time by inspecting the various photos and books lining a bookshelf nearby.

He eventually left the bathroom, a bit of steam behind him, wearing only a towel and a goofy grin on his face. I walked up to him with a smirk. "Finally!," I said in a jokingly bitchy tone. He leaned in to kiss me, a kiss that quickly turned into a passionate lock as he pushed me up against the wall. He was a wonderful kisser -- the kind that makes your knees feel a bit wobbly and your head immediately foggy. Things were looking up! He pulled off my shirt and quickly moved down to fumble with my complicated belt buckle. I helped him out, and soon we were stark naked in his bedroom.

What happened then I can't really put into words. Generally, hookups of this nature are short-lived and fairly formulaic: A bit of kissing, some oral, and then some fucking followed by orgasm. But immediately my encounter with Niels took an unexpected turn. We were wrapped in each other's bodies, each expressing in exasperated, garbled tones how unprepared we were for the chemistry that we was boiling between us. His kiss sent shivers down my entire body, making me feel desired, wanted, and cared for. With his arms wrapped tightly around me, I felt safe and secure. I felt possessed in the best way possible.

No, this encounter was anything but ordinary. As we continued to roll around in the sheets, working with increasing fervor to increase the pleasure between us, I felt myself getting, well, rather emotional. At one point, he lay on top of me, holding my hands above my head firmly while kissing me deeply. His kiss began to wander, first down my neck, and the south towards my chest. He continued to kiss down my arms, and my hands, and then towards my stomach and hips. It was the most tender and endearing moment of my life. I had never felt cared for in this way. Silently, I began to cry.

Tears flowed down my cheek as he continued to shower my body with kisses. I wiped them away quickly, hoping to hide from him this rather inexplicable expression of emotion in what was supposed to be a straightforward one night stand. I do not know if he noticed. But what I do know is that in those moments with Niels, I felt protected, cared for, and loved. Truly loved.

I never saw Niels again. He graduated from Michigan that year and moved abroad to take a job. By the time I arrived in the Fall of 2007, he was already gone. I still chat with him from time to time online -- we enjoy reminiscing fondly about our connection that night. But that's the extent of our continued connection.

I can't explain what happened with Niels adequately here. It truly changed my life. It shook me to my core, and made me rethink the possibilities for sexual intimacy outside of relationships. I don't mean to say that the kind of connection I found that night with Niels should be something we should come to expect out of every sexual experience with a stranger. If anything it seems that the kind of intimacy I felt with him is incredibly hard to come by. But I share this story to try to show that sex with strangers -- hookups, as I guess we call them -- can be just as powerfully intimate as sex with boyfriends or husbands. While my experience in relationships has been somewhat limited, I can say without hesitation that the sex I've had with boyfriends has never held a candle to the kind of religious experience I had that night with Niels.

It's not to say that sex with a husband could never be that powerful -- I have no doubt that it could be -- but I do argue that we must discontinue viewing hooking up as necessarily meaningless. There is powerful potential to explore in having sex with strangers. It may not be your preferred method for structuring your sexual life, but it is not a second class option. Make no mistake: sex with strangers can be truly wonderful. And like I said at the beginning, just like sex with lovers, it can be truly awful. Inside or outside of formal relationships, I see little difference for the potential for sexual experiences to be tranformative, connected, and incredibly powerful.