Category: LIFESTYLE / RELATIONSHIP

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Can a Sexless Marriage Be a Happy One?

— Experts and couples are challenging the conventional wisdom that sex is essential to relationships.

By Amanda Montei

Will and Rose met online 10 years ago. His screen name was professorparsley, and he looked the part — tall and thin, with glasses, features that Rose found attractive. On their first date, Rose learned that Will was a college student living with his mother, and his handle came from a nickname given to him by a child at an art camp where he worked. They laugh about it now, as they do with most things. Will thought Rose was exciting and direct. He grew up in suburban Ontario, and she was from Southern California, which was like another world to him. Right away, what they loved about each other were their differences.

Rose was drawn to how stable Will seemed — so unlike the other men she had dated, who dreaded commitment. Their relationship survived multiple moves, about a year of long-distance dating and the challenges of finding time to be together while living with parents and roommates. Now, seven years into their marriage, they have their own place: a one-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles, where Rose sees Pilates clients. Will is gone during the day, teaching, and at night they cuddle in bed and watch television. “It’s my favorite part of the day,” Rose says. (Rose and Will are middle names. All subjects asked to be referred to by their first names, middle names or a nickname, out of concerns for their privacy.)

As much as Will grounds her, Rose feels that the familiar calm of their relationship also shuts her down sexually. They go months without sex, but they don’t lack intimacy. They have a policy of never refusing a hug, something they instituted to resolve the minor disagreements that inevitably crop up in any relationship. They have also talked candidly about how, for her, the safe predictability of their marriage — the quality she loves about their lives together — dulls her sex drive. She knows that can be confusing, even frustrating, for Will, but she doesn’t like the idea of forcing herself to have sex. Rose’s mother, now divorced, felt obligated to have sex with Rose’s father once a week. That’s not the kind of relationship Rose wants.

To get into a sexual mood, Rose relies on a set of rituals to help build anticipation — doing her hair and makeup, shaving her legs, having a glass of wine over dinner or, when their schedules allow, going on vacation to break out of their routines. Will doesn’t need to do anything to feel ready for sex, and Rose sees this as another way in which they’re different. Over the years, they have accepted that this is what their sex life looks like, and will look like, if they want to be together, which they do.

During the pandemic, the couple went more than a year without having sex, but they savored their extra time together. Rose used to spend hours driving in traffic to different workout studios, coming home late, not seeing her husband much. Stuck at home, they took walks around their neighborhood. They talked constantly. They started taking online yoga classes together, a hobby that stuck. Will appreciates these smaller opportunities to connect. Rose thinks she’s not the nurturing type, but Will disagrees. “She’s not stingy in spirit or time,” he says.

Sometimes they shower together and hold each other naked, without any expectation of sex. Though Will remains hopeful that these moments will lead to something else, he doesn’t push it.

Cultural attitudes about the role sex plays in a marriage have evolved significantly over time. Where once marital sex was primarily a means for bearing children, in recent decades, the conventional wisdom was that frequent sex was integral to a happy union. During the 1990s, a new wave of sex positivity coincided with the ascendancy of different forms of therapy, including couples counseling. Experts coached couples on how to strengthen their marriages, often relying on the belief that healthy relationships included consistent sex with partners. By the 2010s, appointment sex had become one popular method for maintaining intimacy and, somewhat implicitly, safeguarding against separation.

In more recent years, however, both relationship experts and couples themselves have been gradually dismantling some of these commonly held views, working to destigmatize the unconventional approaches that some take to stay together. Online groups have sprung up for couples who challenge basic assumptions that spouses should share a bedroom or even a home. Sharon Hyman, who runs a Facebook group called Apartners for couples who have chosen to live separately, told me that many of the members in her community find their sex lives improve when they don’t spend every minute together. “My goal is to show that there are healthy options for relationships,” Hyman says. “No one size fits all.”

One effect of the ever-changing sexual climate is that many couples today are simply less willing to tolerate what the psychotherapist Esther Perel calls “boredom” in the bedroom. Perel has made a career of articulating how domestic overexposure saps eroticism, which requires some intrigue, mystery and unfamiliarity. That’s not to suggest that long-term love and desire are impossible, but according to Perel, keeping sexual interest alive requires getting creative. In her podcast, “Where Should We Begin?” Perel helps couples explore and articulate their fantasies, honor each other as individuals and experiment with new approaches to fulfilling their desires together.

For Perel, as for many other relationship experts, that sometimes means re-examining investment in another foundational premise of marriage: monogamy. The advice columnist Dan Savage, too, has argued that monogamy isn’t entirely plausible, or pleasurable, for everyone, and is critical of Americans’ obsession with moralizing infidelity. He encourages married people to be honest with each other about how hard it is to carry the responsibility of fulfilling their partner’s sexual and emotional needs for decades on end.

A photograph of a miniature model of two beds separated by a window.

While some are questioning the standard of monogamous sex in marriage by exploring polyamorous and open relationships, others are pushing back against the pressure to have sex at all. In fact, Americans on the whole are having less sex than they used to — across race, gender, region, educational level and work status. One study found that American adults born in the 1990s are having less sex than older generations; they are in fewer steady partnerships, and those who are partnered are also having less sex. The 2021 General Social Survey found that about 50 percent of all adults polled had sex once a month or less, with half of those people reporting they hadn’t had sex for a year. Researchers have speculated about the reasons for this 30-year sexual low, from isolation caused by technology to cultural conversations about consent.

Many younger women, for instance, shaped in part by the #MeToo movement, are engaging in intentional abstinence. There are trends on TikTok about going “boysober,” a word coined by the comedian Hope Woodard, who says that taking a break from sex can be empowering for women who previously altered their desires to accommodate men. The digital feminist 4B movement, which originated in South Korea but has spread globally through social media, advocates a rejection of childbearing, as well as heterosexual dating, marriage and sex. “Platonic life partners,” meanwhile — friends who commit to owning a home and even raising children together — insist that sex and romance are not necessary to lifelong unions.

The sex educator and researcher Emily Nagoski is resistant to the idea that frequent sex should be a chief component of every committed relationship. Nagoski — who has been open about her own hiatus from marital sex — doesn’t endorse obligatory sex, nor does she encourage aiming for any sexual base line in terms of regularity or behavior. Drawing on the work of the Canadian sexologist Peggy Kleinplatz, Nagoski believes that low desire can sometimes be evidence of good judgment. “It’s not dysfunctional not to want sex you don’t like,” Nagoski says.

In her new book, “Come Together,” Nagoski urges couples who want to explore their sexualities and deepen their sexual bond to begin by figuring out what each person wants when they want sex. For many, sex represents freedom from the ordinary, but what it takes to get there will look different for every couple and is likely to change over time. After all, desires don’t always align, or they evolve in unexpected ways.

Michelle and John met in 2005 at a party, and in the early years of their relationship, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Four years ago, however, after experiencing what she calls a “traumatic” childbirth, Michelle began to worry that intercourse would cause her pain.

She and John did not have sex for a year after they became parents. Now they can go months without it. Friends of theirs, too, seem to be experiencing new chapters in their own sex lives and opening up their marriages, which has sparked conversations between Michelle and John about the possibilities for reinvigorating their sex life. But they don’t always agree on what they want, or what they’re comfortable with.

John knows, however, that having sex outside the marriage is a red line for Michelle. She witnessed infidelity tear apart her parents’ relationship. “I think there’s a big fear about ‘I have an urge that may be resolved in a minute or two,’ but the sense of what could be broken is not worth the risk,” John says.

Love, for both, is about much more than fulfilling those momentary desires. After almost two decades together, they consider themselves best friends and “soul mates.” When they first began dating, Michelle was reeling from the loss of her brother, who died in a car accident. She talked with John about the experience on an early date, and they were inseparable after that. John thought she was beautiful and wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. Michelle thought he was a welcome distraction, someone who could lift her out of her grief. They went to concerts. He made her mixtapes. But there were also times when she broke down crying, and he was there for her.

John used to try to comfort Michelle by saying he understood how she felt, but when he lost his own brother in 2012, he realized how wrong he had been. As he mourned, Michelle “just knew what to do in the unspoken moments — whether it was knowing when to give me space, or knowing when I needed a hug, or I just needed her to be next to me,” John says. Today, Michelle remains the “central piece” of his happiness.

Michelle and John share a one-bedroom with their daughter, and while they get some privacy during the day, they’re busy working from home. Now, most days, Michelle masturbates in the morning, while John takes their daughter to preschool. He masturbates at night in the bathroom, while watching porn on his phone. For John, it’s merely a physical release, but for Michelle, pleasuring herself serves a different purpose: She is trying to figure out what makes her feel good. Exploring her changed body alone eliminates the guilt she has when she can’t climax with her husband. She doesn’t want him to think it has anything to do with him. “I want to get there, but it’s not getting there,” she says.

Of the more than 30 married people I interviewed, many, like Michelle, told me that becoming parents irrevocably changed their sex lives. Camille, who lives in California, felt her marriage was the most solid and caring relationship she had ever experienced, but becoming a mother distanced her from her desire. “It feels like something I can’t quite touch, like in another room, or another part of me that I don’t know how to access,” she says.

Other mothers started to see sex as one more chore, another line item on their list of responsibilities. Keti, a mother of a neurodivergent child who craved being held, found that sex with her husband had become “robotic” as she began to see it as “one more demand.” Her husband was doing everything he could to support her, but she felt an obligation to get back to their old sex life, even though she wanted “desperately to go into a forest and just lie down and not hear anyone or anything.”

Lilien, who has two kids, says becoming a mother was a turning point for her. She had to leave her previous career and didn’t know who she was or what she wanted. “My identity was totally eviscerated,” she says. “I was really confused about what my worth was.” Her history of sexual assault also resurfaced in profound ways. She thought she needed to be “permeable” to nurture her children. She didn’t have the capacity to extend that physical openness to her husband. She couldn’t stand soft caresses from him, which felt like the tickling of her child’s hands.

Lilien’s husband, Philip, never pressured her to be intimate, for which she is grateful. “The most important thing for me was to maintain a place where the sex you have is very positive, very consensual, very understood and mutually enjoyed,” he says. Five years later, Philip knows she is still coming to terms with everything motherhood has brought into her life. Recently they started having more sex, about once every other month. Lilien loves her husband’s firm back rubs, which he’s happy to give.

Other couples, much like Rose and Will, confessed to feeling sexually misaligned with their partners as their desires shifted in different directions. Jean, a 38-year-old mother living in Virginia, told me that her husband’s interest in sex has dropped off gradually over the course of their 13-year marriage. She, on the other hand, experienced what she called “a secondary puberty” as her kids grew older and became less dependent on her. She felt “so sexually charged” that she visited her gynecologist to confirm she wasn’t having a hormonal issue. She’s now trying to figure out how to navigate her husband’s low desire. “I feel like I’m living in the upside-down a lot of the time,” she says. “My friends complain about their husbands grabbing their butt while they wash dishes, and I think, Wow, I would love to feel wanted like that.”

Another mother, Emily, says that sex gradually became less important over the course of her 34-year marriage. When her kids were little, intimacy with her husband stalled briefly, but as their children grew older, they had a “revival of a good sex life,” Emily says. Now she is 59 and has had several operations resulting from a battle with cancer, including a hysterectomy and mastectomy. As a result, her desire lessened, and sex began to feel like “vacuuming the house” — something she did to make her husband happy. And he noticed. “If you are used to somebody responding to you in a certain way, you can tell when they are acting,” she says. “I wasn’t the same person.”

One night in bed, about 10 years after she went on a hormone treatment for her cancer that put her into early menopause, they had a frank conversation about their sex life. “We discussed my lack of desire, and he said that if I’m not turned on, then he’s not either,” Emily says. He admitted that his sex drive had dipped, too. So they decided not to force it. She feels there’s some cultural pressure for older people to keep up their sex lives into their 80s. She’s read, with skepticism, articles claiming that maintaining sex later in life is healthy. “Is it?” she said. “I don’t know.”

Emily feels their marriage has progressed naturally: They experienced decades of passion, and while they remain affectionate outside of the bedroom, their relationship now transcends sex in many ways. It’s about the life they’ve built together. “We’ve been in a sexless relationship for years now,” Emily says. “We get along great, but we’re more like best buds than lovers.”

Despite their insistence that sex isn’t essential in their marriages, most of the couples I spoke with still keep track of how often they have sex. They also appear haunted by how far they deviate from perceived norms. John, for instance, hopes he and his wife can work back up to having sex two or three times a week, but admits he has no idea where that figure came from.

Numbers, Nagoski believes, can be a counterproductive metric. It’s impossible to hear such statistics and not judge one’s relationship against them. Numbers also don’t account for whether participants are enjoying the sex they are having. “You’re comparing yourself — you’re judging yourself as OK or inadequate — compared to a whole bunch of people you’re not having sex with, who are not having sex with you,” Nagoski says.

For couples measuring themselves against what Nagoski calls the “fictions” of sex, or for those worried that their relationship is on the line whenever they enter the bedroom or don’t meet some monthly number, there may be too much pressure for sex to be enjoyable. It’s more important that couples establish what kind of sex is worth having.

‘There are people who tell you all the sex they’re having. I feel like it’s a lot more common that a lot of people are not.’

Rose admits to feeling the weight of societal expectations. Recently she decided that since she and Will were rarely having sex, she would have her birth-control implant removed from her arm. During the procedure, the nurse intimated there was something wrong with Rose’s marriage. Rose felt shamed and angry. The idea that she should be living in a constant state of arousal with her husband after a decade together is, to her, ridiculous, but also part of a facade she thinks many married couples maintain.

“There are people who tell you all the sex they’re having,” she says. “I feel like it’s a lot more common that a lot of people are not.” With the help of her therapist, Rose is exploring whether her A.D.H.D. may play a role in her need to seek new stimuli — not because she sees it as a problem but because she is interested in understanding her desire more fully. “Apparently the partner fatigue I experience is not so uncommon because our ‘special’ brains are always seeking out what’s new,” she says.

Will sometimes turns to Buddhist writings on restraint to explore his sexuality. He jokes there may be some confirmation bias at work, but he thinks his wife’s self-awareness — and her unwillingness to force herself into sex that she doesn’t want to have — has matured him. For Will, intimacy is less about completion and more about connection. “I’ve learned, even just about the act of sex itself, the ending is not always the best part,” Will says. “There’s pleasure throughout the spectrum.”

In March, for Rose’s 40th birthday, they took a trip to Hawaii. She switched off her phone for hours as they sprawled out by the ocean. Will remembers turning toward his wife and staring at her, watching her relaxing, her body loose. In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about sex or how beautiful Rose looked under the sun. He was thinking about how similar they actually are. More than anything, they want to enjoy themselves in their own way, to savor the small moments when they can let the rest of the world fade away.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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The Truth About Sex in Age-Gap Relationships

By Hayley Folk

I’m married to a man 16 years my senior, so trust me, I’ve heard it all: He’s too old for you. How would you have anything in common? I’m sure it won’t last. What does a 28-year-old woman want with a man in his 40s — other than his money? After that, though, comes the question I inevitably get asked most of all: What’s the sex like?

Of course, the question comes as no surprise to me; it’s natural to wonder how sex plays into the equation. When it comes to age-gap relationships, a dynamic widely debated as of late, the curiosity around sex makes sense. Plus, according to a 2022 Ipsos poll, nearly four in ten Americans have previously dated someone with a large age gap, and 57 percent of singles say they would be open to dating someone 10-plus years older or younger.

In a time when different relationship dynamics are being more openly talked about, and folks can take ownership of their pleasure and sexuality in ways that have never existed before, finding what works for you may come to mean partnering up with someone 15 years older (or younger) than you.

Justin Lehmiller, a psychologist and sex researcher at the Kinsey Institute who’s studied the impact of age gaps on sex, says that it can be hard to paint broad strokes because dynamics between couples can vary based on factors like the size of the age gap or the baseline level of desire for sex.

“People tend to project a lot of assumptions onto age-gap relationships, such as assuming that older partners are going to have lower libidos or that age differences necessarily create a dominant-submissive dynamic,” Dr. Lehmiller tells POPSUGAR, “However, the reality is that there’s vast individual variability and different age-gap relationships might have very different sexual dynamics.”

Although there is a stereotype that the older partner in an age-gap relationship calls the shots sexually, the same Ipsos study found this to be more myth than fact, showing that 59 percent of couples said they initiate sex equally. In my marriage, one might naturally assume that I am the one with the higher sex drive because I’m in my 20s, but in actuality, we’re pretty equal there. That said, that might not be true for every age-gapper.

Aside from dealing with the assumptions and stereotypes that come with an age gap, there are real benefits to sex outside of your age demographic. A new Ipsos study from this year found that among women who have dated younger men and men who have dated older women, sexual satisfaction and fulfillment, as well as fun and enjoyment in the relationship, were rated good to excellent.

“I have heard from many people in age-gap relationships who say they’re having the best sex of their lives,” Dr. Lehmiller says. “Sometimes it’s the younger person saying that being with an older, more experienced partner is great because they’re sexually confident, good at sex, and invested in providing pleasure. Other times, it’s an older partner with a high libido who appreciates being with a younger partner who can ‘keep up.'”

Drew, 45, is in a relationship with a 31-year-old woman. He says he enjoys being with his younger partner because she is more in tune with her sexuality and pleasure — a big jump from his experiences with women of his age. For him, choosing a younger partner wasn’t just about the novelty, but more about being with someone with intimate knowledge of their desires and how to communicate them.

For Caitlin, 25, who is seriously dating a 38-year-old, having sex with someone older has given her the ability to reap the rewards of an experienced partner, while also learning more about her own sexual expression. Instead of having to tip-toe around her partner sexually, like in her past relationships with men her age, being in an age-gap relationship has given her a new sense of confidence.

These stories aren’t unlike mine. Before meeting my now-husband, I had never been with a male partner with whom I could openly share my desires or let myself surrender sexually. I was always so uptight, and rather than exploring what made me feel good, I worried about putting on a show. The first time we hooked up was the first time I felt seen and cared for sexually, and I attribute a big part of that to his age and life experiences.

Of course, no relationship is perfect, and there can be some downsides to sex in a large age-gap relationship, too. Tara Suwinyattichaiporn, a Kinsey-certified sexologist and relationship coach, says differences in sexual experiences can lead to disconnection, where one partner may desire fast-paced, exciting sex while the other craves deep, passionate, sensual, and slow encounters.

The age of both partners can also influence how open they are to different types of sexual exploration — and that may not always line up.

“The main downsides to sex in age-gap relationships that I sometimes hear about are when a health issue arises that make sex difficult or impossible or when desire lacks,” Dr. Lehmiller says, “These issues can, of course, emerge in any relationship, whether there’s an age-gap or not. But when one partner is substantially older than the other, these issues may be more likely to emerge or they may happen with greater frequency.”

Olivia, 42, once dated a man who was 28. When it came to their sex life, the only downside was that she began to experience pain during sex, and ultimately, it made her feel like she couldn’t match his desire.

It’s important to remember, however, that sex will ebb and flow in any relationship. The trick, it seems, is to be willing to ebb and flow with it, allowing yourself to learn more about yourself and your partner.

“I was in a sexual relationship with someone in their fifties when I was in my twenties and I would say I appreciated what my older sexual partner brought to our relationship and my life,” Dr. Suwinyattichaiporn says. “I was able to learn to feel more confident in bed. He was comfortable giving me feedback so I felt like I grew a lot as a sexual being during our relationship.”

Though there’s room for growth, conversations around pleasure and sex — and not just penetrative – are taking place more frequently thanks to access to other perspectives via social media, more resources widely available online, and more inclusive language and terms to describe sex that exist now that didn’t even just 15 years ago. It feels as though there is much more room to expand, no matter what age you or your partner are.

For myself, as someone who speaks openly about and has been in an age-gap relationship for over five years, it seems clear that I (and my partner) are continually learning more about ourselves, sexually and beyond, no matter our ages. Being with someone outside of our respective age brackets only amplifies that.

So, what’s the sex like? Brilliant, beautiful, sexy, fun, expanding, and growing.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Lesbians are way more likely to orgasm than straight women, new study finds

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We have yet another reason to feel sorry for straight women — and another reason to celebrate the joy of lesbianism. According to a new study, lesbians are much better at getting their partners to orgasm than straight men (but really, we already figured as much).

The study, “The Role of Partner Gender: How Sexual Expectations Shape the Pursuit of an Orgasm Goal for Heterosexual, Lesbian, and Bisexual Women,” comes from researchers at Rutgers University. In a two-phase survey, women of various sexualities were asked about their last sexual experiences, and the results speak for themselves.

The first phase asked 476 lesbian and heterosexual women about their most recent sexual experience. Lesbian women reported orgasming 20% more than straight women.

The second phase of the study focused on bisexual women, asking them to imagine sex with both men and women and reporting how likely they think they’d be to orgasm in each scenario on a scale of one to seven. Imagining sex with women yielded an average score of 5.86, compared to only 4.88 for hypothetical sex with men.

There was some common ground for all the women in the study, though: no matter their own sexuality or their partner’s gender, clitoral stimulation was the key to reaching orgasm.

Kate Dickman, one of the study’s lead authors, offered some advice for those struggling to climax (or struggling to get their partner there). “If women, or men partnered with women, want to increase their own or their partners’ orgasm, they should create an environment that encourages orgasm pursuit through diverse sex acts, particularly those involving clitoral stimulation,” she wrote.

To that end, the researchers discovered a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy: when they were having sex with other women, the study participants thought they had a greater chance to orgasm, and because they were expecting it, it was more likely to happen. In other words, expecting to orgasm means you’re more likely to, and so far, lesbians have been better at setting high expectations.

“The problem is not inherent to men or to being heterosexual, but to the dominant sexual scripts associated with heterosexual sex,” explained Grace Wetzel, another of the study’s authors. “Sexual scripts are flexible and can be changed.”

Basically, straight men need to take a page from the lesbian book and give straight women the foreplay and attention they deserve.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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A Practical Guide to Modern Polyamory

— How to open things up, for the curious couple.

By , , , , and

If you live in New York, it’s very possible you’ve recently found yourself chatting with a co-worker, or listening to the table next to you at a restaurant, and heard some variation of “They just opened up, and they’re so much happier.” Or “My partner’s partner truly sucks.” Ethical non-monogamy isn’t new (The Ethical Slut, the polyamorous bible, came out in 1997), and it isn’t exactly mainstream, but it isn’t so fringe either (or reserved for those who live in the Bay Area). A curious person might be tempted to download Feeld or let their partner know over salmon they’re ready to let in a third. But though people don’t talk about it in hushed tones anymore — Riverdale just ended with Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Veronica in a quad, after all — it isn’t such a simple thing to do well. There are a million things that can go awry, from the small and awkward (oversharing about a date) to the enormous and life-imploding (ending an otherwise fine relationship). The poly-curious among you likely have questions about the day-to-day operations — how do you tell your kids about it? Where do you find people to date? What if your partner gets way more matches than you do? What if their new partner is way hotter than you? To that end, we’ve created an exceedingly in-depth guide. We talked to nearly 40 people — some who’ve had open relationships for decades, others who only recently opened things up — to figure out how to capably, or at least less messily, date non-monogamously.

Is There Only One Way to Do It?

There are many, and choosing which one suits you depends on a lot of factors: Are you currently in a relationship? If you are, do you want other relationships to take equal priority? Do you want to fall in love with other people or just have sex with them? A non-exhaustive taxonomy.

Open Relationship: In a strictly technical sense, this is when you and your partner can have sexual, but not romantic, relationships with other people.

Swinging: A couple who have sex or dates with other people as a duo.

Hierarchical polyamory: When you and your partner can have relationships — romantic or sexual — with other people but have agreed to remain each other’s primary partner. You might pursue these relationships as a couple or separately.

Nonhierarchical polyamory: There are no primary partners in this scenario — everyone is on an equal footing.

Solo-poly: A single person pursuing multiple intimate or sexual relationships while trying to avoid riding the Relationship Escalator. This means you’re not particularly interested in, say, sharing a home or bank account with any one person.

Wait, What Is a ‘Metamour’?

Becoming non-monogamous doesn’t mean you have to join a ten-person polycule or memorize ‘The Ethical Slut.’ Still, there are terms that many non-monogamous people will use while discussing their arrangements, and it’ll make things easier to familiarize yourself with at least a few.

Comet partner: A romantic or sexual partner who might live far away or appears in your life only occasionally. When around, you pick up your tryst, but there are no obligations to one another between these meeting points.

Compersion: The pleasure you derive from your partner enjoying romantic or sexual happiness or success with a person who isn’t you. The opposite of jealousy.

Kitchen-table polyamory: A style in which everybody in a polyamorous network — primary partners, tertiary partners, metamours — is encouraged to form close and friendly relationships with one another (without necessarily being romantically involved) to the point where they can all sit down and have dinner without its being weird.

Metamour: Your partner’s other partners whom you are not also dating.

Monogamish: Often attributed to relationship columnist Dan Savage, this arrangement is at the halfway point of monogamous and open: You and your partner are exclusively committed to each other but allowed purely physical encounters on the side. Think of Cameron and Daphne from White Lotus, season two.

New-relationship energy (NRE): The all-consuming, chemistry-altering high that accompanies the early period of being romantically involved with a new person. NRE, and the chance to experience it many times, is cited as one of the biggest perks of polyamory, but it’s also one of the biggest sources of anxiety when a partner is experiencing it with someone else.

Nesting partners: The partner(s) with whom you live. Not necessarily a primary partner.

One-penis policy (OPP): Probably the most-hated concept in the world of ethical non-monogamy; this is often when a cis straight man only allows his female partner to sleep with another person who doesn’t have a penis.

Polysaturated: When you’ve reached maximum capacity on partners and/or time.

Primary partners: For people who practice hierarchical non-monogamy, this is the relationship that comes above all others in terms of time, commitment, loyalty — sometimes the person you share a home, finances, or children with. If you have a primary partner, you might refer to your other partners as secondary or tertiary.

Relationship escalator: This refers to the way in which monogamous people, by default, “level up” their romantic relationships: how they go from dating to becoming exclusive to living together to getting married to merging finances to having children. A process that many non-monogamous people want to avoid or at least question.

Vee structure: A three-person arrangement in which one person acts as the “hinge,” or point of connection, while the other two don’t have a romantic or physical relationship with one another.

Veto Power: If you’re in a primary partnership, you may grant each other the ability to call for a change in each other’s outside relationships — whether they’re spending too much time with a person or you simply object to them dating that person as a whole. A controversial concept within the poly world.

How Do I Broach This With My Partner?

There are so many ways this conversation could go wrong. So we asked three couples who handled it well — and one who might have handled it better — to tell us how they first proposed it.

Julia told Matt she had a crush.

Julia: After we had our child, I went through a few years of lacking sexual interest. It got to the point where it felt like I might never be interested in having sex again and that would be fine. That began to change in May 2022. I started having a crush on someone. I didn’t know if I was even going to tell Matt, but I didn’t want to repress this part of myself. And I didn’t want to cheat on him. Eventually, I told him about this crush, how I was feeling different and vibrant. I said, “I’m feeling more open about my sexuality and more interested in exploring it.” He said, “Are you asking to open the marriage?”

Matt: We talked and cried for hours. But I knew it made no sense to hold her back. I was like, I’m not going to get in your fucking way.

Julia: It was still an unresolved idea, and we sat with it for a week. I never wanted to push it, I wanted to wait for him to be the one to suggest it. Eventually, he said, “I don’t want to hold you back from being yourself.”

Misty reminded Ari of an old conversation.

Ages: 29 and 29
Open for: 3 years

Misty: The conversation happened after Ari came out as nonbinary. I brought up these conversations we had had in college about having threesomes. I used to say, “I would only do it if it was two guys. I’m not gay.” He’d say: “I’d do it if it were two girls. I’m not gay.” So at the time we thought, Okay, well, then we’re never going to do this.

Ari: You had just come out as pansexual. You said, “Maybe we can talk about what it would look like for me to start exploring that part of my sexuality.” I was shocked at my own response because in the past I’ve been very territorial and heavily monogamous. But I was like, “Yeah, let’s start talking about it.”

Misty: You had the moral high ground of, “Oh, my wife is coming out to me. This is me honoring someone’s queerness.” Literally a few months later, at my birthday party, there was a girl there we were really into, and the threesome happened. The next day, we were like, “Wow, that was fun. Should we download Feeld?” I do think the first conversation was deceptively easy.

Steven and Andrew talked about flirting.

Ages: 45 and 39
Open for: 7 years

>Steven: Andrew can tell me every single day that I look great, that I look sexy. And of course I want to hear those things, but there’s a difference between your husband telling you that and someone you’re not married to saying it.

Andrew: Every year, we’d go to this Christmas party. It was lots of gay men on Broadway. They were all beautiful, and it was a party full of flirting. I remember one time asking Steven afterward, “How do you feel about me flirting with other people?” Because I felt the same way Steven did — a beautiful man at that party can make me feel sexy in a way that my husband can’t. So we discussed those feelings and talked about how we both thought it was healthy. That was a gateway for us.

Eva gave Tomas an ultimatum.

Ages: 30 and 30
Open for: 8 years

Tomas: I was in Europe, she was in the U.S., and she wasn’t happy with the relationship. We got to a stage where she said, “Either we open it up or we have to break up.”

Eva: I obviously know now that in the literature there’s this idea of non-monogamy by coercion, and that isn’t great. But it was challenging to do long distance. Also, Tomas was my first serious relationship, and I had this fear that I would settle too early. I wanted to date other people.

Tomas: It was not something I ever considered. I always saw myself in a monogamous relationship and married with kids and all that. But we talked about it over a few months, which helped.

Eva: At the beginning, he thought I was trying to find a way to replace him. Over time, when he realized that wasn’t happening, he was more fine with it.

Should We Come Up With Some Rules?

When couples start being non-monogamous, there are, in general, two kinds of rules they tend to set. The first is about the structure of the arrangement. Are you seeing new people as a duo, or is it okay to pursue an outside relationship on your own? Are you remaining each other’s primary partners, or are you eliminating the hierarchy entirely? Breaking these kinds of rules can feel like a violation or at least require serious negotiation. A few years ago, Alice and her husband opened their marriage. They knew they wanted to date together and had started seeing another couple but hadn’t set firm rules. One day, the four of them were together at a food festival in Brooklyn. “I had to go off somewhere, and the other husband had to go off somewhere. So my husband and the woman were left at this food festival and ended up going back to our apartment together and then slept together,” she says. “We hadn’t clearly said, ‘No, that’s not allowed.’ It was murky. But I felt really betrayed and devastated, which I think is hard for people outside of the lifestyle to understand.”

The second kind of rules are of the more tactical, logistics-y variety. Keep your wedding ring on always, for example, or no sleepovers at home, or no more than two dates with other people per week. Nearly every couple we spoke to said that these types of rules are more like training wheels: important to set up and follow in the beginning to make everyone feel safe but likely to fall off as people get more comfortable. Brittany and Roy gave each other curfews, which they stuck to in the beginning, until needing to be home at a certain time started to make them feel constrained and they realized they didn’t really care. It became a specific request for specific circumstances, like if one of them was sick. Blake and Paula had the “no sex in the shared bed” rule for a while, “but at a certain point I was like, ‘I personally don’t care anymore whether you have sex with someone else in our bed,’” says Paula. “This does not seem important to me. ‘Go forth and let’s see how it feels.’ And then you did it and I did it. And we were both like, ‘Oh, this is fine. We don’t care.’” Some non-monogamous people are skeptical of rules in general. “I think a path for success for an open couple is to be able to be very present, treat every moment as if it’s unique,” says Robert. His partner, Olivia, adds, “If you had a set of rules, it would almost feel very strict, like monogamy.”

Where Do I Meet People?

Unless you live in Brooklyn or San Francisco (and even if you do), chances are you’re meeting people on the apps. Many default to Feeld, the non-monogamy and kink-friendly dating app, but you could do just as well somewhere like Hinge, matching only with others who label themselves non-monogamous. If you and your partner are dating separately, you might consider acting as each other’s wingman. After Toni opened her marriage, she found that she was having trouble meeting women. “I joined several apps, and nothing was really happening for me,” she says. Her husband, Tom, started matching with people he could potentially set her up with on Feeld. To one woman, Clarissa, he wrote, ‘Hey, my wife would love to speak with you separately without me, are you okay if I connect you?” then put Clarissa and Toni in a group chat. The two of them dated for a few months.

Does My Wife Want to Hear About My Night?

Some couples who date separately follow a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy — this can work well for those who like a little secrecy or just don’t want to talk about everything. But more often, couples like to share at least some details about how their respective love lives are going. Some ways to make those conversations less fraught.

Don’t debrief immediately.

“When we get home from a date with somebody else, that’s not the time to talk about it,” says Ethan, who opened his marriage three years ago. In that moment, he says, the most important thing is to reassure your partner: “Hey, I came home to you, and I want to be with you.” He adds, “Then, after some time has gone by, you can say, ‘How did the date go?’ It’s easier the second day.”

And don’t go into every detail.

Even if you and your partner want to be transparent with each other, it doesn’t necessitate giving a play-by-play. For one thing, too much information could send your partner into a spiral of anxiety or insecurity. Plus it’s not always the most considerate to the partners who aren’t in the room. “It feels a little bad to talk about every little thing you did with somebody, especially if they don’t have the ability to tell their own story,” says Blake, who has been partnered for ten years and poly for seven. “It’s just bad manners.”

But do consider sharing breakthroughs.

The one exception to Blake and his wife Paula’s rule is when they have a sexual first. “The first time I fisted someone, I was like, ‘Oh my God, Blake,’” Paula says. Another time, Blake called her with news. “I was like, ‘I fucked a guy in the butt,’” Blake says. “We celebrated.”

And findings.

“There’s one guy that I was with, and it was just a fabulous experience,” says Emily, who is married to Ethan. “I told him I couldn’t squirt. He said, ‘I am telling you, you can,’ and at the end of a four-hour session with him, I squirted for the first time.” Upon hearing about this, Ethan felt insecure. “But then I said, ‘Okay, what did he do? Let me learn,’” he says. “Now I think we need to send him Christmas cards.”

Should We Sleep With Them on the First Date?

If you’re a couple on a date with another couple, there are things to consider that you don’t have to think about as a single on a date with another single. “We’ve been a lot of couples’ first dates after they’ve opened up their relationship,” says Amelia, who frequently dates other couples with her husband, Chris. Below, the two share some advice.

Amelia: We’ve been together eight years, and it’s exciting to see that charming first-date persona anew in your partner.

Chris: But we often notice that other couples seem unsure of what they want out of the situation. We will say, “What are you guys hoping for?” And they’ll say, “We never really talked about it.” So we’re often putting the brakes on. People will want to go out for drinks, then go back to their place, and it’s like, “No, it would be better if you guys went home, processed your feelings, and then let us know if you’re both interested.” A red flag is when one partner seems overly excited and the other is pulling back. And sometimes two people just clearly want different things. So we try to really communicate — like, we’ll say, “Hey, are you in this pile of eight people because you want to be, or are you in it because you feel like you need to be?”

Amelia: When dating together, we have pretty good game: We’ll tee each other up to be charming. But sometimes we just have more of a connection with only one of the people in the couple: Our current girlfriend and boyfriend both started out as part of other couples. Things didn’t work out with the other partner, but we kept seeing them.

Am I Being Nice Enough to My Boyfriend’s Girlfriend?

If you’re not in a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation, you may find yourself getting to know your partner’s partners, otherwise known as your metamours.

Don’t think of them as rivals.

When it comes to her husband’s girlfriends, Ali goes out of her way to avoid acting territorial. “I’m not in competition with these women. It’s not like, I’m more important because I am his wife. I am here to make sure that their needs are being met as well as mine,” she says. In the past, she’s given her phone number to new people her husband is dating in case they’re feeling unsure about him and want to talk. She’ll also intervene to make sure her husband is being a good boyfriend. “He has a girlfriend that he’s been with for two years,” she says. “I know the relationship is important, so sometimes I’ll facilitate. I’ll ask, ‘Have you FaceTimed or seen Daphne lately?’”

It’s okay to say, “Hey, this is our thing.”

Alejandra recently went on a trip upstate with Diego (her primary partner), Ivy (Diego’s partner), and Nathan (Ivy’s partner). It was the first vacation the group had taken together, and Alejandra pulled her metamour, Ivy, aside. “In bed, I refer to Diego a lot as ‘Daddy,’ and the one thing that I asked Ivy not to do in front of me on this trip was call him that because that might make me uncomfortable,” Alejandra said. “Ivy was like, ‘Oh, that’s totally fine. I’ve never called him that in my life.’ I was like, ‘Great.’”

But also, it’s not all on you.

A lot of the responsibility lies with the hinge, or mutual partner, in making sure nobody feels neglected. “When you are the middle person, you need to make sure that you’re giving equal amounts of attention to those two people,” Alejandra says. “It can be mental gymnastics: Okay, I held this person’s hand. So I have to hold this person’s hand. Oh, I gave this person a kiss. Oh, fuck, I want to make sure that everyone feels loved.” On their trip upstate, Diego, the hinge, was openly affectionate with Ivy in front of Alejandra, but later, when Alejandra began feeling insecure, he reassured her. Alejandra describes the situation: “I’m like, I’ve gained about 20 pounds, so I do not feel super-comfortable in my skin, and Ivy’s gorgeous. As soon as I felt that, I just started talking about it in front of everyone, and Diego told me some nice things, that I’m superhot and fuckable, and that’s what I needed. He did a great job. I would love to go on a little trip with them all again.”

But if your metamour is giving you a genuinely bad feeling, don’t ignore it.

Ali recalls a former metamour who grew angry after she and her husband tried to set boundaries. “She told him she had HPV, which is not a scary thing to most people, but I have a family history of cancer,” Ali says. “I said that certain sex acts are off the table, and she ended up exploding on him on his birthday while he was with his family, just keeping him on the phone for hours and hours.” The relationship ended on its own, but if it hadn’t, Ali would’ve intervened. “The language would have been, ‘I noticed so-and-so is treating you in this way, and I feel like you deserve better.’”

How Much Time Does This All Take?

You might be thinking at this point, I have a job, and a partner, and friends, and hobbies. How in the world am I going to make time for dating, and then talking about dating, on top of all of that? Some non-monogamous couples keep shared Google calendars or reserve one night a week for each other. Julia, who is in an open marriage with her husband, Matt, breaks down how they manage their week-to-week and what she’s had to give up to make room.

Matt and I have an agreement about how much time we can spend with another person weekly. Spending a whole evening out once a week, either Thursday, Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, is totally fine; usually, it’s after we have dinner with our young child, so from 7 p.m. till 1 a.m. And then we’re okay with each other sleeping over somewhere else once every two weeks.

Right now, I feel at capacity with one secondary partner and my husband. If my one secondary partner were way more casual, then maybe I could date two people. In order to keep my nuclear family my priority, the amount of time I put toward this other relationship has a maximum. I’d guess it takes up, or keeps me away from Matt, eight to 12 hours a week, depending on if I stay over at my partner’s or not.

I think I’ve ended up sacrificing my more introverted hobbies. So I’ve done less reading. The gardening and yard work and just a lot of home-improvement stuff I let go to the wayside. I’ve done less crafts. I think Matt has too. I know he’s put aside house projects because he needs time to go on dates. He used to do a lot more woodworking.

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Should We Tell Our Kids?

Some poly people prefer not to tell every single person in their lives — it simply seems unnecessary, or they don’t feel like explaining or receiving judgment. Others find it more challenging, logistically and emotionally, to keep it private. (What if someone spots you out and thinks you’re cheating? Or you need to tell work you’re leaving early to pick up your partner’s child?) Writer Molly Roden Winter explains how she navigated talking to her children about her and her husband’s open marriage.

My husband and I never planned to tell our children about our open marriage. But seven years after we took our first fumbling steps toward non-monogamy, I got off a plane to find a series of text messages from my then-13-year-old son, Daniel. “Mom,” he wrote, “are you and Dad in an open marriage?” My husband, Stewart, had left his OKCupid profile open on his laptop, and Daniel had seen it.

I found a spot against the wall of the Houston airport to call him. When Daniel picked up, I began by telling him how happy his father and I were, how we were always honest with each other. But Daniel’s main question surprised me. “I get that Dad has time for it,” he asked. “But when do you do it?” This question brought me relief: Like many mothers with a full-time job, I’d worried that I wasn’t spending enough time with my children, and using precious nonworking hours to go on dates made me feel particularly guilty. Here was proof that, in Daniel’s mind at least, I was around so often he couldn’t fathom my managing to be anywhere else.

Daniel, the eldest of my two boys, had always been eminently reasonable. As an infant, he cried only when he needed something, and in elementary school, Daniel’s teachers often commented on his extraordinary comfort level with adults and his ability to mediate conflicts among his peers. With him, I had always leaned toward honesty: I’d told him about my limited drug use as a teenager, my fraught relationships with eating and body image, and my family’s history of mental illness. But speaking to my son about my sex life felt far more difficult. “I don’t do it very often,” I lied.

Daniel seemed satisfied, but over the next few weeks, once I returned to Brooklyn, he was consumed with curiosity about my whereabouts. “Where are you going?” he asked. “Are you really going to see a friend? Are you sure you’re going to the gym?” Stewart, meanwhile, continued to come and go as he pleased. “Why doesn’t Daniel ask where you’re going?” I asked Stewart one night. “Why doesn’t anyone seem to care if fathers have sex, but every mother is supposed to be the goddamn Virgin Mary?” Stewart offered to speak to Daniel, who afterward apologized to me. “I’m sorry I’ve been asking where you’re going all the time,” he said. “I know it’s private.”

“It’s okay, honey,” I answered. “It’s just that I don’t think you actually want to know if I’m on a date. And sometimes I really am just going out with friends or to the gym.” Daniel nodded. He’d try not to ask, he said, “but if I do, can you just lie if you have a date?” He seemed to agree: My dishonesty was also in his best interest.

While Daniel had always been compliant and even-tempered, his younger brother, Nate, had a penchant for emotional extremes. At the end of our phone call in the Houston airport, I’d asked Daniel to put away his father’s laptop; while he may have been mature enough to handle the truth, I hoped to keep our open marriage hidden from his younger brother as long as possible. But four years after Daniel called me in Houston, I was in my bedroom when I heard a scream from downstairs. Nate burst in with Stewart’s old iPhone in his hand. “Mom!” he shouted. “Dad’s cheating on you!” He had found pictures of Stew with his girlfriend.

Rather than asking questions stoically and matter-of-factly, as Daniel had when he first discovered Stewart’s dating profile, Nate’s eyes were wide, his breathing rapid. “Are you getting a divorce?” he asked. No, I said. He asked me who the woman was. “You don’t need to know who,” I said. “The important thing is I know who she is, and Dad isn’t cheating on me. Cheating means you lie, and Dad and I always tell each other the truth.”

There I was, standing on the same line between boundaries and honesty, exactly where I’d stood with Daniel four years earlier. Yet what I’d learned from Daniel was only halfway applicable. While Daniel was a classic introvert — often cutting discussions short in order to process his feelings alone — Nate was more like me, an extrovert who preferred to talk through complex emotions. Tell Nate too much, and he’d be anxious. Tell him too little, and he’d fill in details with his own worst fears. I checked my mind and my gut for signs of the old shame, but it registered only as a weak flicker. Calmly, I told Nate that his father and I had an open marriage. “Should we FaceTime Dad at his office?” I asked. While Stewart and I had spoken to Daniel separately when he first found out, I’d come to understand the importance of presenting a united front. Stewart and I proceeded to tell Nate our beliefs about open marriage — our commitment to each other, the emphasis on honest communication, the affirmation of each other as our life partners of choice. There was one question Nate came back to over and over again. “Just promise me you guys still really love each other,” he said.

In the months after, additional questions arose. “Are you sleeping with my orthodontist?” he asked. “No,” I responded. “Non-monogamy doesn’t mean you sleep with everyone. And I would never get involved with someone you know.”

“Cool,” he said, relieved. Then, a few days later: “Do you and Dad still like having sex with each other?” I said “yes,” to which Nate replied, “Okay, okay. Don’t say anything more!” Over time, Nate’s questions became less frequent. Stewart and I had always been affectionate with each other in front of the kids, but now I often saw Nate peeking around corners when Stew and I hugged, or jumping between us happily when we held hands on weekend outings or family vacations. And if Stewart and I fought in front of the kids, we tried to make sure they bore witness to our reconciliation as well.

Daniel, who is now an adult, recently confessed that back when he was 13, he’d been more upset about the open marriage than he’d let on. Like Nate, he’d equated open marriage with infidelity, fearing that any arrangement outside the conventions of monogamy was verboten. Would his parents stay together? Would the foundation of our family crumble beneath his feet? “It’s okay, though, Mom,” he said, registering my panic. “I’m fine with it now.” What helped, he said, was that nothing actually did change: My and Stewart’s marriage remained strong. Plus, he said, he grew up. It is tempting to believe that the choices we parents make are helping to shape our kids into confident, secure adults, but our children, ultimately, will become who they will become — maybe thanks to us, maybe in spite of us, and maybe a little bit of both.

And What About My Co-workers?

Katie Coyne, the environmental officer for the city of Austin, suggests being casual about it.

I’m married, and we’ve been poly for about two years. I have a public-facing job. It’s really important for me to feel like I’m not hiding anything about myself or hiding people who are important to me. I have it sort of worked out now. With people I’m closer with, I’ll just slide it in casually. For instance, when I was dating someone who has kids, I was going to soccer games and doing some part-time co-parenting. So at a happy hour with my staff, when someone asked what I was doing over the weekend, I said, “I’m going to my partner’s kid’s soccer game.” He was like, “Oh, I didn’t know you and your wife had kids.” I said, “Oh, we don’t. It’s my partner; I’m polyamorous.” The only person I was afraid to tell was my boss because he’s pretty religious. But the day after another partner and I broke up, we had an all-day executive-team coaching retreat. At the end of the day we were going to happy hour, and I said to him, “Hey, most of the rest of the executive team knows this about me, but I wanted to tell you that I am upset because my girlfriend and I broke up last night. I’m polyamorous.” He didn’t know how to react, but he’s adapted. A few months ago, I even took a date to a fundraiser. One of the organizers was like, “Oh, is this your partner?” And I said “No, actually, we’re on a date!” And my boss was like, “Great to meet you.” Everyone’s kind of rolling with it.

What Can Go Wrong?

More people means more interpersonal dynamics — double or triple the giddiness, maybe, but also double or triple the jealousy, anxiety, abandonment, and painful breakups.

The hierarchy might shift.

For the first five years of our open relationship, Eva and I were each other’s primary relationship. Any outside relationships never got super-serious. I was under the impression that that would always be the case. Then, two years ago, Eva met this other person and they fell in love. She started spending more nights at his house, and the relationship developed to a stage where Eva was very emotionally involved. Now her other boyfriend and I are on an equal footing in terms of the importance in the relationship. We celebrated her birthday together this year. — Tomas

You might become a third wheel.

One time, we met a girl who showed interest primarily in Ethan but said she was also interested in me. We had her over for drinks, and when things carried into the bedroom, it was clear that the focus was really him. It was our first threesome. At one point, we were talking about what we all wanted. So I said to Ethan, “What do you want? I want you to have what you want.” And he said he wanted to fuck the other girl. Then they went off to do their thing and I wasn’t involved. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I left the house. —Emily

Your partner might date someone who wants you gone.

The first time that Blake fell in love with someone else, it felt clear to me that she hoped that she would win him over and that he would leave me for her. When I met her in person, it didn’t feel to me like, Oh, she’s not ready to meet me. It felt like, She’s bummed about me. She was sad. She did not want me in the picture. Since then, I’ve met other women Blake has been in love with and it’s been great. And I’m able to look back and say, “The vibes were really off.” —Paula

They might realize they’d rather be monogamous.

We met on OKCupid and had both set ourselves as non-monogamous. We’d both just gotten out of eight-year relationships. She and her ex had decided to be non-monogamous to try to save their relationship. Over the course of ours, she basically figured out a poly relationship was not really what she wanted. I was encouraging her to date. I thought over time she’d become more comfortable. But she didn’t. She’d get really anxious and have a lot of fear and jealousy when I was trying to date. She’d say, “Hey, please don’t do this. I’m not ready for it.” There was this sense that I was somehow hurting her, and she felt like she was cheating on me when she went on dates with other people. I felt constricted. And then there was the fact that we kind of wanted different things — like, she wanted to have a child very soon. Over time, once we realized this feeling wasn’t going away, we started talking about ending the relationship. We’d do this thing sometimes where we’d lie around and scroll through OKCupid and try to find people for each other. She came across this one guy’s profile one day, and I was like, “Oh my God, you have to, like, go out with him. He’s just like me except better for you than I am.” And she did, and she ended up married to him, and they had children soon after. —Nikhil

You might tire of your secondary status.

I was dating somebody — I’ll call him Michael. And he was in a primary relationship with Michelle.

At the time, they were making a lot of space for loving other people and inviting those lovers or boyfriends into their home and on vacations with them. I was their secondary. I was very connected to them, and I very much fell in love with Michael. Michael very much fell in love with me. I was supporting Michael while he prepared to propose to Michelle. But then I went through a really rough period. I needed more emotional support than he could give me. I was impulsive and broke up with him. I knew Michelle was consoling him for many months afterward. A few years later, Michelle reached out to me. She’d asked seven of his lovers and former lovers to come surprise him for his birthday. We tied him up and throttled him in complete silence. So it was ultimately a happy ending. —Sonya

They might leave you behind.

Seven years ago, I met this woman. I was mostly monogamous and single. She was very up front that she had a boyfriend and they were open. We started dating, and for those two years, I wasn’t dating multiple people — I just was dating her, and she really just wanted one female companion and him. The beginning of the end was when her and her boyfriend’s relationship started to become codified in traditions. He proposed to her, and it threw me. It made the balance beam that I was on feel uneven and one-sided. He invited me to the wedding, but she was like, “Uh, no.” She said she didn’t want to have to explain to her family who I was at the wedding. It felt like she chose him over me, like, “You’re not fully included.” I think I saw her one more time after the wedding, but it was just awkward. —M.J.

You two might drift apart.

A few years after my husband and I opened our marriage, I met this woman. We fell in love really, really fast. One morning, after she slept over, my husband said, “Seeing you this excited about someone else really freaks me out.” But I’d seen him happy with people over the years we’d been open, so he let me give it a shot. Eventually, he even suggested she move in. Now, I live in very separate worlds with them in the same house. He’s a very tidy person. She loves to play music, cook, be messy. He’s reserved; she loves to give attention. My husband and I haven’t had sex in over a year. We love each other, but our connectedness just doesn’t run as deep as mine and hers. —Caroline

Or it might just break your relationship.

>My partner and I started dating in college, and we stayed together after. She was always interested in alternative relationship modalities, and over the years she brought it up a couple of times. I’d be like, “Okay, that’s interesting. Let me think about it.” Eventually, when we moved cities, I was like, “Why don’t we give this a shot?” In the beginning, it felt really fun. Then she got more serious with someone and it became more difficult to talk about with each other. She was never anything but transparent about the facts. I would ask her what she was doing one day, and she’d say, “Oh, I’m seeing this person.” At one point, they started taking trips together, so I knew they were getting more serious.

I felt upset and wondered if I should be doing something similar. I started looking around more on Hinge and found somebody I had amazing chemistry with. Eventually, my feelings toward her and hers toward me grew so strong that I was like, I have to make a decision. It’s gotten out of hand, emotionally. The main relationship was suffering. Neither of us was putting the same attention into that that we were into the other relationships.

I ended up breaking things off with my partner. The conversation was consuming. I feel like I’ve never been so focused on something. I walked around the city for days and days thinking, What should I do? At one point, she asked, “Well, would you change your mind if I ended things with the other person?” I said, “Honestly, I don’t know. The cat’s kind of out of the bag.” And she said, “Well, honestly, I don’t know whether I’d be able to do it and hurt the other person in this way.” I don’t know if we’d have stayed together if we’d stayed closed. Or if it would have been the right decision to stay together. —Lucas

All names have been changed at the request of the subjects.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What Is Lovesickness?

— And How Do You Actually Cure It

The prescription calls for watching “The Notebook.” On repeat.

BY

Picture this: It’s 3 a.m., and instead of blissfully snoozing beneath your sleep mask (…or adding a bunch of viral TikTok finds to your cart), you’re deep in the trenches of your feelings, wrestling with the kind of heartache no amount of beauty sleep or online shopping can heal. Welcome to the not-so-exclusive club of the lovesick, bb, where the main activities include over-analyzing text messages, obsessing about ~the one that got away~, and wondering if your soulmate is really out there. Bleak, right? That’s because, hi, lovesickness is a real thing, and unfortunately for all of us, it hurts like hell.

“Lovesickness describes the intense emotional and physical experiences associated with romantic love,” says Sarah Hill, PhD, a research psychologist and consultant for Cougar Life, specializing in women’s health and sexual psychology. “The symptoms resemble those of a physical illness because of the profound links between the mind and body.” You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you feel depressed, and the thought of doing anything other than crying in bed and watching Love is Blind seems impossible. Sound familiar?

Even though the term isn’t a recognized medical diagnosis, Hill stresses that it’s a very real, very painful mental ailment. To put it bluntly, being lovesick makes it feel like your heart got hit by a semi-truck. Whether you’re trying to get over a breakup, grappling with unrequited love, or coming to terms with a going-nowhere situationship, lovesickness isn’t just for the dramatically inclined—it’s a legit rollercoaster of physical and emotional symptoms that can leave even the strongest among us reeling.

The silver lining? While lovesickness is your body and mind grappling with loss, remember, you’re not spiraling alone—you’ve got us! And with the help of relationship pros, we’re breaking down every damn thing you need to know about lovesickness, from what it is to how to heal. Stick with us, y’all, because happier days are on the horizon, no matter how lovesick you feel rn.

What Actually *Is* Lovesickness?

As the name suggests, lovesickness is the feeling of being “sick” due to the loss or lack of romantic love. Again, it’s not an official medical or clinical condition, but holistic relationship coach Alexandra Roxo stresses just how uncomfortable the experience can be.< “It’s the point where emotional pain turns to physical pain after going through a breakup, heartbreak, or a separation,” she says. While heartbreak—an existential experience—makes you feel sad, Roxo says the difference is that lovesickness is usually described as the physiological response to that heartbreak. Feeling lovesick means you might find it hard to eat, sleep, work, or even have fun. Food might lose its taste, music might sound flat, and you might even experience real symptoms of clinical depression and anxiety. So, no! You’re not being dramatic! Your body *literally* feels sick from lost love, dammit!

The term is sometimes mistaken for limerence—an obsessive form of love—but lovesickness primarily stems from the absence of love, triggering a feeling similar to that experienced from addictive substances. “Being lovesick can feel akin to the withdrawal symptoms from opioid drugs,” Hill explains, “As both scenarios involve a lack of stimulus that usually activates the brain’s reward centers, leading to a dopamine withdrawal.”

While this all sounds, frankly, miserable, it’s important to note that feeling lovesick is actually totally normal. “Both lovesickness and heartbreak can be intense and distressing emotional experiences, but they are also natural responses to the complexities of relationships,” Hill says. Knowing how to heal is key, and curing your lovesickness is possible. Promise.

What Are the Signs and Symptoms of Lovesickness?

Feeling lovesick isn’t just about wallowing in your feelings post-breakup (but, like, that’s totally valid too). According to Hill and Roxo, the symptoms of lovesickness can—and likely will—vary from person to person, ranging from mood swings to sleeplessness to yearning for your former partner. Sometimes, you might feel fine, and other times, you feel like you’re on autopilot or have a hard time functioning in daily life.

So, if you find yourself wanting to call out of work because your heart literally hurts, there’s a chance you’re feeling lovesick. While the signs of lovesickness aren’t always obvious, here’s what the pros say to look out for:

  • Difficulty sleeping: Your love interest’s absence can disrupt your sleep cycle, making it hard to fall or stay asleep.
  • Restlessness and anxiety: A constant state of unease, especially after the breakup or when exposed to triggers? Check.
  • Inability to concentrate: Your thoughts might be consumed by your partner or your breakup, distracting you from any and all tasks at hand.
  • Increased tearfulness: You might find yourself crying over songs, random memories, or simply out of nowhere. Inconvenient, sure, but normal.
  • Pain or tension in the chest: This can be a physical manifestation of your emotional pain (but if it persists, feels uncomfortable, or intensifies, reach out to your doctor ASAP).
  • Mood and appetite changes: Swings in mood and changes in appetite are A Real Response, often leading to eating too little or too much.
  • Obsessive thoughts and idealization: You may find yourself putting the relationship on a pedestal or obsessing over what went wrong.

Understanding these symptoms is the first step toward healing, and can empower you to take steps toward recovery and eventually find balance and happiness again. Because, yes! You will be happy again!

How Do You Heal from Lovesickness?

Dealing with lovesickness can feel like you’re wading through emotional quicksand, but there *are* effective ways to pull yourself out and move forward. Let’s break down some expert-backed strategies to heal from lovesickness and find your footing again.

Be Kind to Yourself.

First and foremost, be gentle with yourself. Lovesickness can take a toll not just emotionally, but physically too. Roxo suggests giving yourself plenty of extra TLC. Eat soothing foods, take bubble baths, get a massage, or cuddle with your pet for some quality physical touch. Don’t be afraid to feel your feelings—so cue up that sad playlist or watch some breakup movies—but Roxo says to schedule something uplifting afterward (like coffee with a pal) to help balance your emotions.

Set Boundaries…and Stick To Them.

As hard as it might be to delete a number or block an account, Hill emphasizes the importance of the whole out-of-sight, out-of-mind thing. Delete the pics, toss the mementos, and try to keep contact to an absolute minimum. Setting healthy boundaries for yourself—whatever that looks like to you—during this time is key, and once you’ve decided that you’re not going to talk to your ex and that you’re going to avoid stalking their socials, stick to it!

Sweat It Out.

I realize working out whilst sad sounds like agony, but physical activity can actually be a crucial component of healing. “Exercise, especially cardio, can significantly improve your brain chemistry, helping to alleviate the fog of lovesickness,” Roxo says. She recommends incorporating upbeat music into your workouts to elevate your mood further.

Have Fun. Seriously.

Since lovesickness is often a dopamine withdrawal, rediscovering joy and pleasure outside of your romantic relationships is crucial to overcoming the ailment. Whether it’s picking up a new hobby, going on a trip, or reading everything trending on BookTok, find fun new activities to look forward to. And if the idea of a rebound relationship sounds alluring (which is okay!), Hill suggests taking things slow and dating people different from your former partner. “Opening yourself up to new experiences can encourage healing,” says Hill.

Ask For Help.

Remember, it’s more than okay to ask for help during this challenging time. Whether it’s a friend or a professional, having someone to act as a sounding board and uplift you when you feel low is paramount. In fact, Roxo encourages reaching out to a therapist or coach who can support you through this transition. “This period of pain could very well be a pivotal moment leading to a breakthrough in your love life,” she says. What’s important is taking proactive steps towards recovery, allowing yourself to grieve, and gradually opening your heart to the possibility of love again.

How Long Does Lovesickness Last?

The truth is, there’s no universal clock for recovering from lovesickness. Some of us might shake it off in a few weeks, while others might be in the trenches for far longer. As Roxo puts it, “The acute symptoms usually start to chill out after a week or two, but really, lovesickness fades in time, depending on how you deal with it.”

While you might wish for a magic potion to speed up the process (don’t we all?), everyone mends at their own pace. It’s a journey, but trust the process. Your heart didn’t come with a fast-forward button, but it’s equipped with resilience and the capacity to heal. You got this.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What is ‘sex’? What is ‘gender’?

— How these terms changed and why states now want to define them


Transgender rights advocates rally at the Kansas capitol, Wednesday, Jan. 31, 2024. In 2023, the state enacted a measure that says there are two sexes, male and female, based on a person’s “biological reproductive system” at birth.

By Grace Abels

  • This year, 17 state legislatures sought to narrowly define “sex” or “gender” in state law as based solely on biological characteristics. In Utah, one became law.
  • Although they’re sometimes used synonymously, “sex” and “gender” have different meanings to medical professionals. Sex traditionally refers to one’s biological characteristics, whereas gender is how a person identifies.
  • Laws redefining sex in state law could require driver’s licenses and identifying documents to display a person’s sex assigned at birth, a policy that transgender advocates say would lead to discrimination.

After decades of creating laws that assumed “sex” and “gender” were synonymous, lawmakers across the country are taking another look at how states define those terms.

Scientific and legal interpretations of these words have evolved considerably in the past century. Today, medical experts understand biological sex assigned at birth as more complex and consider it distinct from gender identity.

In 2020, the Supreme Court also broadened its understanding of sex discrimination in employment to include discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity.

Grappling with this cultural, scientific, and legal shift in the meaning of “sex” and “gender,” lawmakers in some states have tried defining the terms narrowly in state law as biological and binary. In 2023, four states passed such laws and, this year, 17 states introduced bills defining “sex.” Some bills in Florida and West Virginia were defeated, but 15 bills are still advancing in states across the country.

This focus on terminology may seem rhetorical, but these legislative changes can restrict access to driver’s licenses and documents that match a person’s gender identity. Transgender rights advocates say that requiring IDs to match the sex a person was assigned at birth can expose transgender Americans to discrimination.

So, how do we understand these terms, and what could these definitions mean for everyday life once codified?

How have the terms ‘sex’ and ‘gender’ evolved?

Until the mid-20th century, Americans’ understanding of “sex” was largely biological and binary.

“For a substantial time period, law in the United States defined identity categories, such as race and sex, in biological terms,” said Darren Hutchinson, an law professor at Emory University law professor.

In the 1950s and ’60s, psychological research emerged that differentiated biological sex from “gender.” Researchers coined terms such as “gender roles” as they studied people born with reproductive or sexual anatomy that didn’t fit the typical definitions of male or female and observed how children sometimes developed identity distinct from their biological sex.

By the early 1960s, the term “gender identity” began appearing in academic literature. By 1980, “gender identity disorder of childhood” was included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders’ third edition. This inclusion signaled that the concept of gender identity “was part of the accepted nomenclature being used,” said Dr. Jack Drescher, a clinical professor of psychiatry at Columbia University.

Before the 1970s, the word “gender” was rarely used in American English, according to research by Stefan Th. Gries, a linguistics professor at the University of California, Santa Barbara. He said evidence suggests it was used mostly when discussing grammar to describe the “gender” of a noun in Spanish, for example.

Edward Schiappa, a professor of communication and rhetoric at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, observed in his book “The Transgender Exigency” that the rising use of “gender” in English coincided with the term’s introduction into psychological literature and its adoption by the feminist movement. Feminists saw the term as useful for describing the cultural aspects of being a “woman” as different from the biological aspects, he said.

Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg, who argued sex discrimination cases before the court in the 1970s, said that she intentionally used the term “gender discrimination” because it lacked the salacious overtones “sex” has.

After the 1980s, gender’s term usage rose rapidly, moving beyond academic and activist circles. In common American English, “sex” and “gender” began to be used more interchangeably, including in state law — sometimes even in the same section of the law.

In Florida’s chapter on driver’s licenses, for example, the section on new license applications uses “gender,” but the section on replacement licenses uses “sex.”

Modern legal and scientific views of ‘sex’ and ‘gender’

Today, medical experts and most major medical organizations agree that sex and gender are different.

Sex is a biological category determined by physical features such as genes, hormones and genitalia. People are male, female or sometimes have reproductive or sexual anatomy that doesn’t fit the typical definitions of male or female, often called intersex.

Gender is different, experts say. Gender identity refers to someone’s internal sense of being a man, woman, or a nonbinary gender. For cisgender people, their sex and gender are the same, while transgender people may experience a mismatch between the two — their gender may not correspond to the sex they were assigned at birth.

Our legal understanding of “sex discrimination” has also evolved.

In 2020, the Supreme Court decided Bostock v. Clayton County, a series of cases in which employers were accused of firing employees for being gay or transgender. The court held that this was a form of “sex discrimination” prohibited under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Whether the court will extend this interpretation to other areas of federal law is unclear, legal experts told us.

How have lawmakers responded to this shift?

Recently, lawmakers have tried to codify their understandings of “sex” and “gender” into law.

In some cases, these laws aim to recognize and protect transgender Americans. The Democratic-backed Equality Act, which passed the House, but not the Senate, in 2019 and 2021, would have federally protected against discrimination based on sex, sexual orientation and gender identity. Some states have passed similar equality legislation, creating a patchwork of anti-discrimination protections for LGBTQ+ people.

But lawmakers in many Republican-led states have proposed narrow definitions of sex and gender that would apply to large sections of state law. “Women and men are not identical; they possess unique biological differences,” Iowa’s Republican governor, Kim Reynolds said in a press release detailing her support for the state’s version of such a bill. She added, “This bill protects women’s spaces and rights afforded to us by Iowa law and the Constitution.”

Iowa Gov. Kim Reynolds speaks July 28, 2023, at the Republican Party of Iowa’s 2023 Lincoln Dinner in Des Moines, Iowa.

Opponents reject the idea that the bills relate to women’s rights and claim the bills are an attempt to “erase” legal recognition of transgender people.

In 2023, four states passed laws defining sex, and two other states did so via executive order.

The Kansas Legislature, for example, passed the “Women’s Bill of Rights” overriding Democratic Gov. Laura Kelly’s veto. The law says that “pursuant to any state law or rules and regulations … An individual’s ‘sex’ means such individual’s biological sex, either male or female, at birth.”

The law defines male and female as based on whether a person’s reproductive system “is developed to produce ova,” or “is developed to fertilize the ova of a female.”

Because of the bill, transgender Kansans may no longer amend the sex listed on their birth certificates or update their driver’s licenses to be different from their sex assigned at birth, although courts are reviewing this policy.

The Kansas law also states that “distinctions between the sexes with respect to athletics, prisons or other detention facilities, domestic violence shelters, rape crisis centers, locker rooms, restrooms and other areas where biology, safety or privacy are implicated” are related to “important governmental objectives” a condition required under the equal protection clause of the U.S. Constitution’s 14th Amendment.

Rose Saxe, lawyer and deputy project director of the LGBTQ and HIV project at the American Civil Liberties Union, said the Kansas law does not explicitly require those spaces to be segregated by “sex” as the bill defines, but tries to justify policies that would do so.

Current bills defining ‘sex’

This year, 17 more states considered bills that would narrowly define “sex” and/or “gender” in state law according to the ACLU’s anti-LGBTQ legislation tracker. One, Utah, signed a definition into law, and 10 other states are advancing 15 bills combined. In the remaining six states, the bills were carried over to next year or defeated.

The Utah State Capitol is viewed March 1, 2024, in Salt Lake City.

Some bills, such as Arizona’s S.B. 1628 change the terms for the entire statute: “This state shall replace the stand-alone term ‘gender’ with ‘sex’ in all laws, rules, publications, orders, actions, programs, policies, and signage,” it reads. The state Senate passed the bill 16-13 on Feb. 22, along party lines with Republicans in favor.

Other bills, such as Idaho’s H.B. 421, don’t replace the word “gender” but declare it synonymous to “sex.” Gender, when used in state law, “shall be considered a synonym for ‘sex’ and shall not be considered a synonym for gender identity, an internal sense of gender, experienced gender, gender expression, or gender role,” reads the text of the bill, which passed the Idaho House 54-14 on Feb. 7.

Saxe said the bills could have a cascading effect on other laws.

Two bills in Florida, neither of which passed, would have explicitly required driver’s licenses to reflect sex assigned at birth. Advocates, including Saxe, worry that other sex-defining bills would have a similar consequence.

Transgender rights advocates say access to identification that matches an individual’s identity and presentation is important. “If you can’t update the gender marker on your ID, you are essentially outed as transgender at every turn,” said Rodrigo Heng-Lehtinen, executive director of the National Center for Transgender Equality to PolitiFact for a previous story on drivers licenses in Florida. This can happen during interactions with potential landlords, employers, cashiers, bartenders and restaurant servers.

“Even in the states that have passed these bills,” said Paisley Currah, a political science professor at the City University of New York, “there’s still going to be these contradictions,” because a person’s driver’s license might not match the gender on their passport, for example.

“Unless you’re a prisoner or immigrant or you are in the Army, the government actually doesn’t get to look at your body,” said Currah, who wrote a book on how government agencies address “sex” categories. “It’s always some doctor that signs a letter … and so there’s always a document between your body and the state.”

How these sex-defining laws would affect state agencies remains to be seen. And the laws may face court challenges, likely on the grounds that they violate the Equal Protection Clause or right to privacy, Saxe said.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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When Makeup Sex Isn’t a Good Idea

By Myisha Battle

A client who is new to dating, sex, and relationships recently asked me “Is makeup sex healthy?” The person, in their late 20’s, has been dating someone seriously for the first time. Things were progressing slowly sexually with his girlfriend, so their question about makeup sex struck me as a great one to ask before ever having the experience firsthand.

We discussed the pros and cons of having an argument that ended with sex, and I explained what I’ve seen as a sex coach. On one hand, it can feel really good to reconnect with a partner after a challenging discussion or verbal disagreement. Sex can be the ultimate display that the fight is over, allowing both partners to move on without any lingering ill will towards each other. On the other hand, makeup sex could be masking deeper issues in the relationship if it’s an ongoing strategy used to resolve conflict in the relationship.

Makeup sex feels like somewhat of a cultural phenomenon. We know it happens, and maybe it’s even happened in our own relationships. But, is it a good thing or something that should be avoided at all costs?

A quick scroll on TikTok reveals a wide range of opinions on the subject. Some people strongly advise against it as it could reinforce bad behavior from your partner. Many posts lean more towards the commonly held belief that makeup sex is a great way to bond after an argument. Other posts suggest that there is something qualitatively different about makeup sex, that includes a heightened state of emotions that you just can’t get to without a fight beforehand. And it’s true that people who see makeup sex as more intense feel a carryover effect from their fight in the sexual experience that follows. This is called “excitation transfer,” which is when you are physiologically aroused by one thing and it transfers over to other areas of your life.

But there’s more to makeup sex than this. A 2020 study of 107 newlywed couples shed some light on what the benefits of makeup sex really are and how sexual quality is impacted by conflict. The study showed that when sex occurred after a flight, it had a greater impact on how people felt about the relationship by reducing the negative effects of conflict. This seems to coincide with the view that makeup sex is a way to feel closer to their partner. What’s surprising is that the study also showed that participants reported that the quality of sex after a fight was actually worse than the sex that occurred without a fight. So even though the sex itself wasn’t perceived as great, there were longer term emotional benefits for the relationship. This helps debunk the assumption that makeup sex is somehow just better than other sex. It also shows the real benefits of sexual connection after healthy conflict.

Where makeup sex gets tricky, though, is when it is used as the sole means for conflict resolution. Given that sex is one of the many ways we bond, it can be seen as an easier way to shift from negative emotions that are stirred up in a flight. But those negative emotions may still be there even after you have sex if you don’t take the time to process them yourself and with your partner. I’ve worked with couples where this dynamic is present and it can become very toxic over time. Feelings pile up that only get relieved through sex, which isn’t necessarily all that satisfying or pleasurable for one or both parties. There can be an aversion to sex for this reason and then feelings have nowhere else to go. This can cause ongoing tension at the least or periodic blow up fights at worst. As a result, people usually have to work with a couple’s therapist to develop healthy conflict resolution skills and be better communicators in general.

There is also a risk of having the perception that the relationship is on solid ground when it isn’t. I’ve heard from people that they have sex regularly, but feel stuck when it comes to day-to-day, non-sexual intimacy with their partner. When sex is the de-facto way to express emotions—joy, sadness, anger, or grief—there can be a lack of emotional closeness in the relationship. Makeup sex could be one way to avoid connecting with each other more deeply, resulting in what looks on the surface like a healthy relationship but is actually one without true intimacy.

Intimacy isn’t just the sex you have with your partner. It’s the ability to recognize the need for healthy conflict and repair. If you are in a healthy relationship where conflicts come up and are worked through, makeup sex can make you feel closer to each other. It’s a way to deepen the intimate connection that’s already there because you made it through something hard together. But it can’t— and shouldn’t—be the only way we connect with our partners. It’s just the cherry on top.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Open Marriage Is Not A Fad

— In defense of non-monogamy.

By Jenny Block

“Monogamy Is Good, And It’s Here To Stay.“ I was leery about this 2008 piece the minute I saw the title. But as soon as I read it and saw the word “fad” used to describe the kind of relationship that I have been deliriously happy in for years (and the kind hundreds of other people I have met have been in for decades) I knew I was dealing with a classic case of fear and misunderstanding — a dangerous mix. I thought I might simply reply in the comments section, but I quickly realized that I had way too much ground to cover. So, below I have gone section by section in response to Ms. Cline’s piece.

“Why aren’t you in an open relationship yet? Carla Bruni Sarkozy, wife of French President Nicolas Sarkozy, famously “prefers polygamy and polyandry.” Reveal magazine quoted Will Smith as saying that he and his wife Jada Pinkett-Smith allow each other extra-marital dalliances. Oprah did a segment on open marriages. Both YourTango contributor Jenny Block and Village Voice columnist Tristan Taormino have books out on open relationships. All of this talk of free love is enough to make chicks who prefer old-fashioned monogamy feel a bit, well, old-fashioned. But if history can teach us anything, the open relationship bandwagon will come and go, which is a good thing because most women still benefit from and prefer monogamy.”

Cline’s opening question immediately gave me pause. This is the tone of someone who feels either uncomfortable or threatened. Surely no one is asking Cline, or anyone else, why they’re not in an open relationship, which me wonder if perhaps Cline is questioning herself. I have never suggested, and would never suggest, that anyone in a monogamous relationship is old-fashioned, and I have repeatedly assured my readers that I have no problem with honest, intentional monogamy. I have been told that to those on the outside, people in the open relationship community can come across as a smug group who think they’re more highly evolved than the monogamous. I am saddened to hear that, but it’s all the more reason that reading and writing on this topic is so important.

The truth is, it’s the lying that is a racket. And, if history can teach us anything, which surely it can, it’s that open relationships aren’t going anywhere. They’ve been around since the dawn of time. If it seems like they come and go, that’s only because the press coverage wavers, not the relationships themselves. The fact that Tristan and I both had books come out on the subject this past June certainly brought it into the public eye, hence the appearance of a suddenly new popularity.

I am not sure what Cline is referring to when she says “most women” as “most” of the women I have spoken to and researched neither prefer nor feel particularly benefited by monogamy. Quite the opposite is true. Many women feel caged in a relationship where their body is “owned” by their partner. Monogamy doesn’t necessarily result in that dynamic but it certainly does at times. That’s where open relationships can be very rewarding for women: controlling one is no longer the cornerstone of the relationship. Instead, love trust and intimacy are.

“Why? Women still generally do more work in relationships than men do and openness requires even more diligence than a regular relationship;”

That certainly is the stereotype. Whether or not it is the reality is unclear, but the fact that it is misogynistic is unarguable. I have trouble seeing how openness requires more diligence than a “regular” relationship. First, it begs the question of what “regular” is. Cheating is so common that, in some ways, I’d consider it more normal than true monogamy. Keeping one’s partner from straying — even though their biology is driving them to seek multiple partners — requires all the assiduousness one can muster. I no longer have to be conscientious in that way, but I am as tireless when it comes to making sure the people I’m involved with know how much I love them — and you don’t get a pass on that just because you’re in a monogamous relationship.  Being with another person requires attention. Providing that attention should be a part of the joy of that relationship, not part of the burden.

“Women are taught to care more about relationships and risk more for them than men, so non-monogamy raises the stakes more for us.”

I’m unclear here about what it is that women “risk more” than men. The stakes aren’t any higher in open relationships than they are in closed ones; they’re the same. We risk our hearts—whenever we love someone. What’s the point if we don’t take that risk? And if the risk is being alone, well, I think the divorce rate proves that “committing” to a monogamous relationship does not guarantee you anything.

“And, despite today’s female open relationship proponents, it’s men who typically initiate and prefer non-monogamy.”

This is simply untrue, although I would be interested to review any historically and scientifically significant proof that shows otherwise.

“The recent rash of high-profile cheaters (Elliot Spitzer, John Edwards, David Patterson, Larry Craig) has shown monogamy in an ugly light. People yearn for… variety, and now that we live longer than ever, it’s unrealistic to imagine a couple staying together for fifty years without a single affair. And in fact, statistics show twenty percent of men and thirteen percent of women cheat on their spouse.”

Exactly. So why not be honest with your partner about your needs instead of subscribing to a societal convention that is very young and that has proven to be highly unworkable? Cline is right when she says that these cases reveal monogamy in an unflattering light. So why not take advantage of that view and use it as an opportunity to take stock of the reality, as opposed to the fantasy, of what monogamy is and when it does and doesn’t work?

“But open relationships are not the solution, says Ayala Pines, psychologist and author of Romantic Jealousy, because jealousy and envy are just as hardwired as infidelity. Only a third of monogamous marriages survive cheating because of jealousy and a lingering sense of betrayal, says Pines. And the success rate for open relationships is not any better for similar reasons. “In my experience with open relationships,” she says, “the couple goes back to monogamy or else to illicit affairs. Or, it ends in divorce.”

Jealousy and envy have not been scientifically proven to be hard-wired. It is more likely that they are learned, based upon the study of non-Western cultures who live decidedly non-monogamous lifestyles. And as for the statistic of one-third, well, show me an argument and I’ll give you a statistic. As to Pines’ experience with open relationships, people who go to see a psychologist are likely going because they have a problem. Pines doesn’t see the people who are in happy open relationships. My question for Pines would be, what percentage of the closed couples that she treats end up happily back together?

“Another reason why open relationships don’t work in practice for a lot of women is because they’re simply too time-consuming. The block is upfront about the work involved in juggling a husband and a girlfriend.”

Again, I can’t see not pursuing a fulfilling relationship because it requires some of your time. All relationships take time. Everything worth doing takes time. How about hobbies? People are willing to put in the work to train for a marathon. How about careers? People are willing to spend four whole years to get a degree. That’s like saying, “I’d love to follow my dreams, but it’s just too much trouble.”

“An excerpt of her book on Huffington Post, Life In An Open Marriage: The Four (Not-So-Easy) Steps prompted one HuffPo commenter to say, “I’m exhausted just reading about all the ‘work’ and never-ending ‘communication’ about feelings, situations, jealousy, worry, etc. It all sounds like much more effort than it’s worth (IMO).” Likewise, Taormino’s Opening Up: A Guide to Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships is an intimidating 300 pages, in which the kind of person who is successful at non-monogamy is described as someone committed to knowing themselves “on a deep level,” a process she says might include “psychotherapy and counseling, reading, writing, journaling, blogging, attending workshops and peer support groups, meditation, and various spiritual practices.” While the idea of openness may be appealing to some women, it’s hard to imagine many of us finding the time to juggle a second relationship. Especially those of us with careers and children.”

I have a career and children. All of the people I know in open relationships have careers and/or children. And shouldn’t we all want to know ourselves on a deeper level? Good strong relationships require that. Otherwise, what’s the point? What do you get out of a relationship if you only have a surface understanding of yourself and your partner? Relationships between any number of people — good ones anyway — require attention and care. Not wanting to deal with “all that trouble” is a sad commentary about the value one places on enjoying truly satisfying, happy, healthy relationships.

“Open relationships are being billed as the wave of the future, but they’ve gone in and out of style every few decades, never becoming more than a fringe movement.”

Fringe is a tough word. At one time hippies were fringe but nowadays, not so much. The same goes for punks and guys who invented personal computers in their garages. Being part of a vanguard group doesn’t make what you’re doing wrong. Open relationships are far from being at their beginning stages, just as they are far from being unrecognized by the larger population. In the last six months alone, either myself, the topic, my book, or some combination thereof have been in or on The New York Times, the UK Observer, the Tyra Banks Show, Fox television, the London Observer, Huffingtonpost, the San Francisco Chronicle. I can’t imagine how something with that sort of media coverage is fringe. Isn’t that how the saying goes, once the media has it, whatever “it” is is no longer “cool”? I have never been more excited to no longer be cool.

“According to Susan Squire, author of I Don’t: A Contrarian History of Marriage, “there have been experiments of mate-swapping in the 19th century and again in the 70s and a few Utopian societies, but it never seems to stick. It doesn’t work or only works for a short period. Then, history cycles, marriage cycles, and everything repeats itself.”

As I mentioned earlier, I would argue that the cycle is the popularity of talking about open marriage rather than the popularity of actually having them. Otherwise, where did all of these people in open marriages go? I know a wealth of couples who have been in open marriages for more than thirty years. They might not have been talking about it because of prejudices like those presented in Cline’s essay, but they were still living their happy, open lives.

“The last time open marriages (often known as polyandry, free love, friends with benefits, et al)”

Forgive me for breaking in mid-sentence, but “polyandry, free love, friends with benefits, et al” are not the same things. At all. Polyandry refers to when a man has multiple wives. Free love wasn’t (isn’t) necessarily about intimacy within committed relationships. The same goes for friends with benefits. Open marriage refers to, well, open marriage: two people are married and have the freedom to pursue additional physical and/or emotional relationships (the latter of which would then imply a polyamorous relationship).

“were in vogue during the revolution of the late sixties and seventies. In 1972, the landmark book Open Marriage documented Nena and George O’Neill’s attempts to redefine marriage and open up their relationship to other partners.”

The book Open Marriage offers only one chapter about intimacy and the authors only peripherally mention spouses pursuing other partners. O’Neill’s definition of open marriage was more about opening oneself up to the world and not focusing on being a couple and nothing more. Interestingly, that is still the best marriage advice around. Have your friends, your hobby, your career. Be a partner to your spouse. But don’t become defined by his or her existence and your relationship with him or her.

“It was a runaway bestseller and, like today, promoted the impression that open marriages were the way of the future. By 1977, Nena O’Neill had published The Marriage Premise, which argued that fidelity was not such a bad thing after all. Squire herself got caught up in what she calls “the five minutes of open relationships” in the seventies. In her first marriage, she says, “We did this thing where we had to tell each other but we could [be with] whoever we wanted. Did it work? No. I remember him calling me to tell me he was drinking with some woman, and saying ‘I’m going to go sleep with some woman, do you mind?’ Of course, I minded. When faced with that, I wasn’t into it. And the reverse was true as well.”

A personal antidote is interesting. But it certainly doesn’t prove anything except that an open relationship with that partner wasn’t for Squire. Pines brings up another X factor of open relationships. Despite all the progress of feminism, she says “women are still socialized to care more about relationships and desire commitment more than men.” Just consider the multi-billion dollar wedding industry and the success of happily-ever-after rom-coms and shows like Sex and the City. Women want weddings, not necessarily marriages. It does make one ponder the old question of whether life imitates art or art imitates life.

“We are also more likely to devote our lives to children, family, and spouse.”

Only because society drills into our heads that we’re supposed to. What would women be like if no one told them incessantly how they were supposed to be? There’s no way to know. No way to know.

“In short, the stakes are higher if there’s to be an emotional fallout from an open relationship.”

Why? We have our own money and our careers. We shouldn’t be defining ourselves by our spouses. The problem is not with open relationships, but with continuing to tell women that they need a man, that they have to be mothers to be fulfilled, that there is one right way to do things, and that everything else is just a “fad.” If we keep telling this tale, it will most certainly continue to prevail. But what if we drop the whole ownership thing, the whole who cares if science says we’re not monogamous, let’s demand it anyway because one group of people (read: the church) says we should and live like thinking human beings who choose lifestyles because they work for us and our partners and the community at large. Keep in mind that marriage has a 50% failure rate and infidelity is rampant. If we went by those statistics, one might conclude that it’s heterosexual monogamous marriage that’s a fad. 

“In Woody Allen’s ménage a trois flick Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Javier Bardem’s character is flagrantly trying to bed three women. The women agree, but Vicky falls in love with him and is tormented. Christina agrees to merely be the extra “salt” in the relationship between Bardem and jealous ex-wife Maria Elena. Bardem is unflappable. Everyone in the theater laughs knowingly—for Bardem, it’s about [intimacy]. But the women always seem to have a little too much invested, a little too much to lose.”

This is a movie written by a man. Not real life. A movie. Truth be told, I wasn’t at all convinced at the end of the film that Christina wouldn’t pursue open relationships in the future. This one simply was no longer working for her. It makes me sad to think that viewers would perceive as novel a woman making a choice based on her own needs.

“And this isn’t just the stuff of a Woody Allen fantasy. Men are typically the ones who initiate open relationships. According to a poll on Oprah.com, seven percent of women and fourteen percent of men say they are in an open relationship. The gender gap is due partially to the habits of gay men, who are more likely than women or straight men to be in non-monogamous arrangements. But, it’s also that “men tend to prefer open relationships more than women do,” says Pines, who has decades of clinical and research experience on the subject, “because their preference for casual [intimacy] far exceeds women’s.”

That is, if women are telling the truth on those surveys, which researchers have said time and again they are not because of the stigma of admitting to being in or wanting an open relationship. Open relationship boards, events, and organizations are filled with women. I can’t see why that would be difficult to accept. It doesn’t affect those women — or men for that matter — who want to remain in closed relationships. Just as the legality of gay marriage doesn’t affect the state of heterosexual marriage. There is no need to invalidate another person’s life to validate your own.

“It’s intriguing that Block and Taormino, two of today’s loudest advocates for open relationships, are women.”

Why isn’t our existence — and popularity — proof enough that there are women in the lead? I don’t follow the logic. First, the argument is that there are very few women who want open relationships so they must be a fad or fringe. But then she says two women are leading the charge. What should one conclude from that?

“Historically, it’s been men who’ve advocated for polyandry and men who’ve benefited. “In the ancient world, men were never expected to be faithful,” says Squire. Women were severely punished for extra-marital affairs primarily because it threatened patrilineal culture, where the paternity of a child would be in question if the woman strayed. In the last three or four centuries, the Lutheran marriage model of fidelity has become the standard, which has given women a more equal stake in romantic partnerships.”

But what about all of the matriarchal societies? Surely it isn’t only Western cultures that count in this discussion?

“Sure, some women can tinker with this arrangement and come out on top, but for many of us there’s a sense that this is part of the battle of the sexes we’re not winning.”

Exactly. Open relationships work for some people, monogamy works for others. This isn’t a competition. Not for me anyway. They both can — and do — work. The decision is about individuality consciousness and desire. How do you want this world to work? If there’s only one way to have a relationship, how long before we’re back to only one “right” religion or one way for the genders to behave or one way to look?

“So if you’re feeling like a fuddy-duddy for not wanting two lovers, remember this open relationship thing is a fad, and, as history has shown us, this too shall pass. While it may seem like non-monogamy is feminism’s natural next step, the fact is that women largely prefer one partner, and we enjoy putting time and emotion into our primary relationship. There’s not enough reason for us to change our ideas about what makes a satisfying love life, just to get on board with a time-consuming relationship model.”

Everyone is allowed their own opinion. This is Cline’s and that’s fine. But it is imperative that it not be taken as fact, because fact it is not. The truth is that the model of a romantic, monogamous, “you complete me” marriage is little more than a hundred years old. And how old is civilization? Maybe heterosexual, monogamous marriage will end up being the fad in the long run. We don’t and can’t know. But, regardless, the only thing I advocate for is honesty and respect. Be honest with your partner. Respect the ways others choose to live even if that way might be different from yours. And if you’re feeling like a “fuddy-duddy,” perhaps it’s time to reevaluate your own life, not the lives of others. As my dad always says, “No one ever cares about what we’re doing nearly as much as we think we do.”

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How the anti-gender movement is bringing us closer to authoritarianism

An all-gender restroom in San Francisco.

By Judith Butler

In the United States, gender has been considered a relatively ordinary term. We are asked to check a box on a form, and most of us do so without giving it too much thought. But some of us don’t like checking the box and think there should be either many more boxes or perhaps none at all. The myriad, continuing debates about gender show that no one approach to defining or understanding it reigns. It’s no longer a mundane box to be checked on official forms.

The anti-gender ideology movement, however, treats the range of sometimes conflicting ideas about gender as a monolith, frightening in its power and reach.

The fear of “gender” allows existing powers — states, churches, political movements — to frighten people to come back into their ranks, to accept censorship and to externalize their fear and hatred onto vulnerable communities. Those powers not only appeal to existing fears that many working people have about the future of their work or the sanctity of their family life but also incite those fears, insisting, as it were, that people conveniently identify gender as the true cause of their feelings of anxiety and trepidation about the world.

The project of restoring the world to a phantasmatic time before gender promises a return to a patriarchal dream order that only a strong state can restore. The shoring up of state powers, including the courts, implicates the anti-gender movement in a broader authoritarian, even fascist project. We see the rolling back of progressive legislation and the targeting of sexual and gender minorities as dangers to society, as exemplifying the most destructive force in the world, in order to strip them of their fundamental rights, protections and freedoms.

Consider the allegation that “gender” — whatever it is — puts children at risk through programs such as reading books with queer characters cast as examples of indoctrination or seduction. The fear of children being harmed, the fear that the family, or one’s own family, will be destroyed, that “man” will be dismantled, including the men and man that some of us are, that a new totalitarianism is descending upon us, are all fears that are felt quite deeply by those who have committed themselves to the eradication of “gender” — the word, the concept, the academic field and the various social movements it has come to signify.

The resulting authoritarian restrictions on freedom abound, whether through establishing LGBTQ+-free zones in Poland or strangling progressive educational curricula in Florida that address gender freedom and sexuality in sex education. But no matter how intently authoritarian forces attempt to restrict freedoms, the fact that the categories of women and men shift historically and contextually is undeniable. New gender formations are part of history and reality. Gender is, in reality, minimally the rubric under which we consider changes in the way that men, women and other such categories have been understood.

As an educator, I am inclined to say to these people, “Let’s read some key texts in gender studies together and see what gender does and does not mean and whether the caricature holds up.” Reading is a precondition of democratic life, keeping debate and disagreement grounded and productive.

Sadly, such a strategy rarely works.

A woman in Switzerland once came up to me after a talk I gave and said, “I pray for you.” I asked why. She explained that the Scripture says that God created man and woman and that I, through my books, had denied the Scripture. She added that male and female are natural and that nature was God’s creation. I pointed out that nature admits of complexity and that the Bible itself is open to some differing interpretations, and she scoffed. I then asked if she had read my work, and she replied, “No! I would never read such a book!” I realized that reading a book on gender would be, for her, trafficking with the devil. Her view resonates with the demand to take books on gender out of the classroom and the fear that those who read such books are contaminated by them or subject to an ideological inculcation, even though those who seek to restrict these books have typically never read them.

To refuse gender is, sadly, to refuse to encounter the complexity that one finds in contemporary life across the world. The anti-gender movement opposes thought itself as a danger to society — fertile soil for the horrid collaboration of fascist passions with authoritarian regimes.

We need to take a stand against the anti-gender movement in the name of breathing and living free from the fear of violence.

Transnational coalitions should gather and mobilize everyone the anti-gender ideology movement has targeted. The internecine fights within the field must become dynamic and productive conversations and confrontations, however difficult, within an expansive movement dedicated to equality and justice. Coalitions are never easy, but where conflicts cannot be resolved, movements can still move ahead together with an eye focused on the common sources of oppression.

Whether or not people are assigned a gender at birth or assume one in time, they can really love being the gender that they are and reject any effort to disturb that pleasure. They seek to strut and celebrate, express themselves and communicate the reality of who they are. No one should take away that joy, as long as those people do not insist that their joy is the only possible one. Importantly, however, many endure suffering, ambivalence and disorientation within existing categories, especially the one to which they were assigned at birth. They can be genderqueer or trans, or something else, and they are seeking to live life as the body that makes sense to them and lets life be livable, if not joyous. Whatever else gender means, it surely names for some a felt sense of the body, in its surfaces and depths, a lived sense of being a body in the world in this way.

As much as someone might want to clutch a single idea of what it is to be a woman or a man, the historical reality defeats that project and makes matters worse by insisting on genders that have all along exceeded the binary alternatives. How we live that complexity, and how we let others live, thus becomes of paramount importance.

There is still much to be understood about gender as a structural problem in society, as an identity, as a field of study, as an enigmatic and highly invested term that circulates in ways that inspire some and terrify others. We have to keep thinking about what we mean by it and what others mean when they find themselves up in arms about the term.

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The ugly return of homophobia

— Bigotry is coming from the progressive establishment

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As a child of the Eighties and Nineties, I remember well that homosexuals were fair game in the mainstream media. One columnist in The Star railed against “Wooftahs, pooftahs, nancy boys, queers, lezzies — the perverts whose moral sin is to so abuse the delightful word ‘gay’ as to render it unfit for human consumption”. After the death of Freddie Mercury, sympathy in The Mail on Sunday was limited. “If you treat as a hero a man who died because of his own sordid sexual perversions,” one writer cautioned, “aren’t you infinitely more likely to persuade some of the gullible young to follow in his example?”

It was sadly inevitable that the AIDS crisis would exacerbate this ancient prejudice. A headline in The Sun declared that “perverts are to blame for the killer plague”. And while a writer for the Express held “those who choose unnatural methods of self-gratification” responsible for the disease, letters published in its pages followed suit. One reader called for the incarceration of homosexuals. “Burning is too good for them,” wrote another. “Bury them in a pit and pour on quicklime.” Someone had been reading his Dante.

I happened to come out in a much less hostile climate. In the early 2000s, we were enjoying a kind of Goldilocks moment, neither too hot nor too cold. We weren’t generally on the receiving end of homophobic slurs, but nor were we patronised by well-meaning progressives. My memory of this time was that no one particularly cared, and I was more than happy with that. Being gay for me has never been an identity, it’s simply a fact, as unremarkable as being blue-eyed or right-handed.

And so it has been troubling to see a resurgence in the last few years of the kind of anti-gay rhetoric that was commonplace in my childhood. Of course, it could be argued that the rise of social media has simply exposed sentiments that were previously only expressed in private. As Ricky Gervais has pointed out, before the digital era “we couldn’t read every toilet wall in the world. And now we can.”

Yet the most virulent homophobia appears to be coming from a new source. Whereas we have always been accustomed to this kind of thing from the far-Right — one recalls Nick Griffin’s remark on Question Time about how he finds the sight of two men kissing “really creepy” — but now the most objectionable anti-gay comments arise in online spheres occupied by gender ideologues, from those who claim to be progressive, Left-wing and “on the right side of history”. The significant difference is that the word “cis” has been added to the homophobe’s lexicon. Some examples:

“Cis gay men are a disease.”

“Cis gay men are truly some of the most grotesque creatures to burden this earth.”

“I hate cis gay people with a burning passion.”

“If you’re a cis gay man and your sexuality revolves around you not liking female genitalia I hope you die and I will spit on your grave.”

“Cis gays don’t deserve rights.”

“There’s so many reasons to hate gay people, most specifically white gays, but there’s never a reason to be a transphobe.”

“It’s time to normalise homophobia.”

Of course, any bile can be found on the internet, but these kinds of phrases are remarkably commonplace among certain online communities. Even a cursory search will reveal innumerable examples of gender ideologues casually branding gay men “fags” or “faggots”, praising the murder of gays and lesbians, and claiming that the AIDS epidemic was a positive thing. Many thousands of examples had been collated on Google Photos under the title “Woke homophobia: anti-gay hatred & boxer ceiling abuse from trans activists & gender-identity ideologues”. The site was taken down last year, presumably because it violated Google’s policy on hate speech — or perhaps because it revealed the toxicity of the ideology the company has spent so long promoting.

If such ideas were restricted to the demented world of internet activism, we might be justified in simply ignoring it. But we now know that the overwhelming majority of adolescents referred to the Tavistock paediatric gender clinic were same-sex attracted. Whistleblowers have spoken out about the endemic homophobia, not simply among clinicians but also parents who were keen to “fix” their gay offspring. And of course there was the running joke among staff that soon “there would be no gay people left”.

And now a series of leaked internal messages and videos from WPATH (World Professional Association for Transgender Health), has revealed that clinicians in the leading global organisation for transgender healthcare have openly admitted in private that some teenagers mistake being same-sex attracted for gender dysphoria. The result of the “gender-affirming” approach has amounted to what one former Tavistock clinician recently described as “conversion therapy for gay kids”. Homosexuality was removed from the World Health Organisation’s list of psychiatric disorders in 1993, and yet here we are medicalising it all over again.

So how did we reach the point where gay conversion therapy is being practised in plain sight by the NHS? Much of the responsibility has to lie with Stonewall, a group that once promoted equal rights for gay people but now actively works against their interests. It has even gone so far as to redefine “homosexual” on its website and resource materials as “same-gender attracted”. It should go without saying that gay men are not attracted to women who identify as men, any more than lesbians should be denounced for excluding those with penises from their dating pools. What trans activists call discrimination, most of us call homosexuality.

“What trans activists call discrimination, most of us call homosexuality.”

Indeed, activists often claim that “genital preferences are transphobic”, or that sexual orientation based on biological sex is a form of “trauma”. The idea that homosexuality is a sickness was one of the first homophobic tropes I encountered as a child. Now it is being rebranded as progressive.

As for Stonewall, its former CEO Nancy Kelley went so far as to argue that women who exclude trans people as potential partners are analogous to “sexual racists”. She claimed that “if you are writing off entire groups of people, like people of colour, fat people, disabled people or trans people, then it’s worth considering how societal prejudices may have shaped your attractions”. It is worth remembering that Stonewall is deeply embedded in many governmental departments and quangos, as well as corporate and civic institutions. Anti-gay propaganda is being reintroduced into society from the very top.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prosecution Service has been meeting with trans lobby groups such as Mermaids and Stonewall to discuss changes to prosecutorial policy in cases of sex by deception. Since these meetings — only revealed after sustained pressure from a feminist campaigner who submitted Freedom of Information requests — the CPS has recommended what Dennis Kavanagh of the Gay Men’s Network has described as “a radical trans activist approach to sex by deception prosecutions that would see them all but vanish”. In trans activist parlance, the barriers to having sex with lesbians and gay men are known as the “cotton ceiling” and “boxer ceiling”. Now it seems the establishment is attempting to support the coercion of gay people into heterosexual activity.

Consider a recent post on X by Stephen Whittle, OBE, a professor of equalities law at Manchester Metropolitan University. In a reply to LGB Alliance’s Bev Jackson, Whittle took issue with the notion that “love is all about genitals” (an argument that Jackson has never made). Having dismissed this straw man as “a very hetero/homo-normative perspective”, Whittle then claimed that “a lot of gay men can’t resist a young furry ftm [female-to-male] cub”.

While it is true that there are some bisexuals who identify as gay, it is simply not the case that homosexual men “can’t resist” certain kinds of women. As Jackson rightly noted in her response, this is rank homophobia, “disturbed and disturbing on every level”. Yet it has been expressed by an individual who has been described as a “hero for LGBTQ+ equality”. With heroes like these, who needs villains?

Another example is Davey Wavey, a popular online influencer, who has encouraged gay men to perform heterosexual acts in a video called “How to Eat Pussy — For Gay Men”. It may as well have been called “Gay Conversion Therapy 2.0”. We are firmly back in the Eighties, where gays are being told that they “just haven’t found the right girl yet” and lesbians are assured that they just “need a good dick”. And yet now these demeaning ideas are being propagated by those who claim to be defending the rights of sexual minorities.

The Government’s recent guidance on how schools are to accommodate trans-identified pupils — in which biological sex will take precedence over identity — has been met with horror from gender ideologues. One of the common refrains one hears from activists is that it represents “this generation’s Section 28”. But this is to get it precisely backwards. Gay rights were secured on the recognition that a minority of the population are same-sex attracted. In dismantling the very notion of sex and substituting it for this nebulous concept of “gender identity”, activists and their disciples in parliament are undoing all of the achievements of previous gay rights movements.

The widespread homophobia of the Eighties, epitomised by Section 28, was based on the notion that homosexuality was unnatural, dangerous and ought to be corrected. Present-day gender identity ideology perceives homosexuality as evidence of misalignment between soul and body. In other words, it seeks to “fix” gay people so that they fit into a heterosexual framework. It is no coincidence that so many detransitioners are gay people who were simply struggling with their sexuality. Gender identity ideology is the true successor to Section 28.

The proponents of this revamped gay conversion therapy dismiss our concerns as “transphobia” and “bigotry”, or as part of a manufactured “culture war”. Worse still, the new homophobia is being cheered on by those it will hurt most. While prominent gay figures continue to feed the beast that wishes to devour them, we are unlikely to see this dire situation improve any time soon. It was bad enough in the Eighties, when gay people were demonised and harassed by the establishment. Who thought we would have to fight these battles all over again?

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The Ethical Slut turns 80

— A talk with poly fairy grandmother Dossie Easton

‘The Ethical Slut’ co-author Dossie Easton.

She co-wrote the book on living and loving openly. Here, she speaks to us about her decades of experience.

By Caitlin Donohue

Twenty-something me would have been verklempt: I was set to interview Dossie Easton, one of the co-authors of The Ethical Slut. The venerable sex and relationship therapist, educator, and self-proclaimed “SM diva” had just celebrated her 80th birthday (she celebrated by going to see Taylor Mac at Cal Performances, I would learn) and was due for some gassing up when it came to her lasting influence on sex education. 48hills was only too happy to oblige—we adore a slutty Bay Area legend.

Easton and her longtime co-author and lover Janet W. Hardy’s iconic book, originally published in 1997 and now on its third edition, broke onto the collective consciousness as the definitional text for those interested in living a life beyond monogamy. The duo went on to pen a passel of tomes for tarts: The New Bottoming Book (and its top-friendly sister volume), When Someone You Love is Kinky, and Radical Ecstasy: S/M Journeys to Transcendence among them.

But if you’re of a certain age and queer/polyamorous proclivity, The Ethical Slut was the book that has doubtlessly spent time on your bedside table, probably purchased on the recommendation of a crush whose language you were desperate to learn. Its impacts on our lexicon are undeniable, not the least of which being the reclamation of that titular term for those who bed without shame. Do you know what a “primary partner” is or what “compersion” feels like? Did you ever attend a SlutWalk? Conversely, was the media’s obsession with Jada Pinkett Smith’s entanglement truly baffling for you? Have you been driven to distraction by an irresponsible lover who willfully misuses the language of ethical non-monogamy? You likely have TES to thank.

Certainly, the book’s success changed Easton’s own dating life forever. “For some people it creates distance, because they get embarrassed,” says the curly-headed sex sage, Zooming in from her longtime home in Marin County. “I can understand that, because I get embarrassed around famous people myself.” But far more often: “People like me in advance, which is nice.” Indeed, who wouldn’t like a published author well-versed in lesbian fisting party protocol?

Of course, seismic cultural change has impacted our take on the pair’s seminal work. Easton was open in her discussion of how time has shaped views on The Ethical Slut, and the book itself.

“We started using less gendered language by the time we got to the second edition,” the educator, who continues to teach online seminars on navigating, tells me. “It was a consciousness thing that moved further and further for us.” Cursory sections on online dating and being BIPOC and poly were also added in later editions—two areas which Easton admits hypothetical further editions could further explore. But staying on top of emancipatory language around sex and gender does entail a steep learning curve. More recent editions of the book did still seem to rule out sexual coercion among gay men and center cis folk. Easton mentions that she saw gendered terms as necessary for describing situations in the book like those involving “somebody right after a baby was born”.  

There is no denying, however, that we have here a Bay Area sex education institution. Easton tells me she dropped out of “mainstream culture” when she was 18, discovering that psychedelics brought her closer to the spirituality she found lacking when she was growing up with a Roman Catholic family in small-town Massachusetts.

“By the time the ’60s rolled around, I was doing volunteer work.” Easton recalls. “I volunteered during the Summer of Love at the Haight Ashbury Medical Clinic, things like that, doing psychedelic crisis intervention. I didn’t have a license to practice then, but I volunteered at places like the battered woman’s shelter in the ’70s, and at San Francisco Sex Information, which is a wonderful switchboard that still exists. You can call up and have a trained volunteer answer your questions about sex, isn’t that nice? It’s celebrating its 50th anniversary sometime soon.”

The Ethical Slut’ co-authors Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy

Shortly after having her daughter, she left the last monogamous relationship she’d ever have, famously making a vow to forever live the poly life. Easton raised her kid (now 55) largely in communal living situations, crediting bathhouse-loving gay male housemates—who were at times deprived of contact with kids, in an era when the LGBTQs could little hope to be approved as adoptive parents—for teaching her that the s-word, at least, could be applied to all genders. To this day, she is a huge believer in the power of extended chosen families, particularly for people whose sexual orientation or practices places them outside the nuclear family industrial complex.

As advanced as her San Francisco community was, even by the late ‘80s when Easton attended graduate school to become a certified therapist, academia still had no idea what to do with non-monogamists. When they found about that it was a lived interest of hers, teachers would interrogate Easton about whether it was really possible for individuals to be happy outside of one-on-one relationships. “Then I found out that the professor who questioned me was well-known for coming onto other people’s wives. I was like, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she smirks.

Happily, times have changed somewhat and, the octogenarian reports, there are certain joys of being a slut elder. Easton hasn’t had a primary partner since 2010—she says she’s been single for roughly half of her adult life—but when she fell and hurt her elbow last year, recovery was distinctly and joyfully poly, with a community of past and present lovers and friends signing up to care for their fallen friend. “There was somebody at my house 24/7 for the first three weeks,” Easton says.

Another heartwarming ethical-slut-at-80-story: Though Easton split with a younger, former primary partner years ago due to the partner wanting to have kids, the two stayed in touch, with Easton eventually participating in the person’s touching “regeneration ceremony” and subsequently gaining two darling “fairy grandsons.” “I want people to understand that even when a breakup is really dreadful, you’re not required to somehow shut off that corner of your life and throw it in the trash. You can build something else,” she reflects.

1997 first edition cover of ‘The Ethical Slut’

If there’s one thing all of us who read The Ethical Slut recall, it’s the book relentlessly optimistic tone. It made you feel like this new world, in which we all merrily explore our sexual and gender identities, work on our jealousy and enjoy a plethora of partners should we get the hankering, is here, if you want it. But sadly, I write these lines in 2024. One of the United States’ woefully few major political parties has the imperilment of trans kids and racially-biased erasure of reproductive rights high atop its list of legislative priorities. Does Easton still hold with Martin Luther King Jr. that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice”?

“I do,” she declares. “I was a teenager in the ’50s, for heaven’s sakes! […] It’s really scary, it really is, but they’re not going to be able to put the rabbit back in the hat. The information is out.”

If that sounds pat, know that she’s committed to ongoing efforts; Easton says she has “three manuscripts nagging at me”, one of them a vignette-laden journal that prompts readers to analyze their own needs and desires when it comes to sex and relationships. It reminds me of a story she told of an early revelation she had as a teen; that society did not have the right words for such a fundamental, fun part of human existence. In part, her career has been a mission to change just that.

“How do you talk about sex in a way that’s delightful?” asks the promiscuous fairy grandmother. “Wouldn’t that be dear?”

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New study reveals 10% of Americans have history of bisexual behavior

— There are three times more people reporting partners of more than one gender than in the 1990s.

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A recent study revealed a substantial increase in the number of Americans who either identify as bisexual or have a history of bisexual behavior. 9.6% of respondents reported having both male and female partners, over three times more than what was reported in the 1990s.

The study, published by researchers Martin A. Monto and Sophia Neuweiler in The Journal of Sex Research, utilizes the General Social Survey dataset, a nationally representative sample of over 32,000 participants. The survey aims to carefully represent each demographic of the United States, and follows up with participants across each successive decade in order to assess how responses may change over time. An additional 2,300 participants were added in the 2021 wave.

The study used a variety of tools to try and measure sexual orientation and prior sexual behavior. This includes a question that asks respondents to reply with their sexual orientation – either gay/lesbian/homosexual, bisexual, or heterosexual/straight.

For sexual behavior, the study asked participants to recall whether their past sexual partners were of the same or a different sex, with additional questions asking about whether their partners were male or female. These responses were narrowed down by the researchers to those who had multiple sexual partners in the past year.

Using a method called regression analysis, the researchers determined what the relationships were between their measures of sexual orientation and behavior with gender, assessing how these relationships changed over time. They found that not only were participants more likely to identify as bisexual than in previous years, but that there were more participants identifying as bisexual than gay or lesbian.

However, they found the reverse trend for sexual partners, with more respondents being exclusively of the same sex than those who had both male and female sexual partners. The authors also note that women were more likely than men to report being bisexual or having a history of bisexual behavior, with men being more likely to report exclusive same-sex behavior.

In addition, this study also found that young people were more likely to identify as bisexual, with 10% of those below 29 and 12% of those in their 30s identifying as such.

This study reflects the changing landscape of Americans identifying as LGBTQ+. Previous studies have suggested similar trends, with more Americans identifying as LGBTQ+. In those prior studies, bisexuality was also the most frequent orientation behind heterosexuality.

The authors detail how this demographic shift showcases a “loosening of the social norms and institutional enforcement that have privileged heterosexuality over other sexual orientations,” with modern demographics being more accepting of LGBTQ+ individuals than in the past few decades.

They suggest that a reason there may be a discrepancy between identification and behavior in their results is due to how behavior may capture those simply exploring their sexuality before coming to a new identity.

In addition, they also point out how “sexual orientation can be fluid, with some people changing their sexual behavior and/or their sexual orientation identities over time.”

Finally, they detail that “even persons who have more recently had partners of both sexes may not consider themselves bisexual, and the term may not fit their understandings of themselves and their sexual behavior.”

The authors conclude by calling for more research that “can better recognize that the terms with which we identify ourselves are social and that there is some degree of choice about how to identify our sexual orientation, particularly among individuals with histories of both male and female partners”

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The Lesbian Bed Death could be plaguing thousands of women

Lesbian Bed Death is a contraversial term used to describe gay couples’ sex lives

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It may be 2024, but one controversial term from the 1980s is coming back from the grave.

Lesbian Bed Death is, simply put, the idea that lesbian couples have less sex.

It’s a sweeping generalisation of the gay community, but why has it gained traction?

‘Research by Blumstein & Schwartz in 1983 showed 47% of women in long term lesbian relationships (two plus years) reported having sex zero to one times per month. There was a sharp decline after two years,’ Miranda Christophers, psychosexual and relationship therapist for menopause platform Issviva tells Metro.co.uk.

Further studies including a literature review by Peplau & Fingerhut in 2007 found that lesbian couples have sex less frequently, on average, than other couple configurations.

Miranda also points to a recent 2021 study, by Chapman University in California, which found women in five-year relationships or longer have less frequent sex than their heterosexual counterparts.

About 43% of the coupled lesbian participants had sex zero to one times per month, while the findings for the heterosexual women was 16%, implying more straight women had more frequent sex.

There is research which suggests lesbian couples have less sex than heterosexual couples
There is research which suggests lesbian couples have less sex than heterosexual couples

While we certainly aren’t going to buy into the idea that all lesbian women have, and are content with, sexless relationships, Miranda explains why sex could die out.

‘Lesbian couples, but broadly speaking, anyone of any sexual orientation, do see a change in the frequency of sex over long term relationships,’ she adds.

‘Earlier on there is more sexual drive and exploration, regardless of gender identity – especially when you live together and experience that domesticity and familiarity.’

But why is this the case for lesbian women specifically?

Miranda says that hormonal changes can really impact the frequency with which women choose to have sex.

‘The hormonal fluctuations may play a big part, people have periods where they might feel more desire than others,’ she explains.

‘Studies have shown that responsive desire occurs more commonly in females than spontaneous desire, which is definitely something I see in my clinical work.

‘If you’ve got two people together who experience more responsive desire, they might be less inclined to have sex because they aren’t wanting to initiate.’

Miranda believes one of the reasons lesbian couples could have less sex is because of hormonal changes
Miranda believes one of the reasons lesbian couples could have less sex is because of hormonal changes

Emily Nagoski, in her book Come As You Are, estimates that around 75% of men and 15% of women experience spontaneous sexual desire, which is exactly what it suggests.

Meanwhile, 5% of men and 30% of women experience responsive desire, which is when arousal only happens after stimulation.

How to navigate responsive arousal:

Sex therapist Laura’s top tips for dealing with responsive arousal (and recognising when you actually want to have sex) are as follows:

  • Understand that there’s nothing wrong with you and that you’re normal.
  • Try different things to spark your sex drive. You have no desire for sex until you are in the process of receiving some physical stimulation so you need to find out what works for you.
  • Understand how you get turned on. The point is to find out if you notice any sign of sexual arousal in response to stimulation and when exactly it happens.
  • Practice orgasm breathing. It can really help to relax, increase sensitivity, and switch off the brain. This practice helps bring arousal and orgasm closer.
  • Work on external factors – if a person is not aroused by erotic thoughts or fantasies, some other factors can do their part – preparing an intimate setting or practicing with various erogenous zones, toys.

Everybody’s libido is different, so enjoy getting to know yourself without the pressure, and have fun doing it!

The other thing women experience which can wreak havoc on their hormones, and subsequently affect their sex drive, is the menopause.

‘The menopause affecting sex drive is definitely a thing. When women hit perimenopause they can notice changes in their sexual desire. It’s a really, really common presentation in the women I see,’ Miranda explains.

Some menopause symptoms that could impact your sex life are breast tenderness, low mood, worsening PMS, vaginal dryness and changes in discharge, thrush, BV, low libido, urinary infections, sexual dysfunction, fatigue, increased period frequency and insomnia – to name a few.

‘How women are feeling in themselves changes… body image changes,’ Miranda adds. ‘They may experience sexual discomfort, or they may be less sexual, there may be less sensitivity.

‘There may also be less lubrication or increased dryness and the vaginal tissue might thin and become more painful.

‘These sorts of things are obviously going to have an effect on [your sex life] because if sex isn’t feeling as enjoyable, or is feeling painful, then you are less inclined to want to do it.’

When you have two women experiencing these changes (assuming couples are of a similar age) this could in theory lead to lesbian women having less sex, Miranda explains, although there are plenty of women who still have sex despite the menopause and with HRT, hormones can be balanced for some women.

Ultimately lesbian bed death isn't applicable for a lot of lesbian couples and as long as a couple is happy with their sex life, the frequency of sex doesn't matter
Ultimately lesbian bed death isn’t applicable for a lot of lesbian couples and as long as a couple is happy with their sex life, the frequency of sex doesn’t matter

Why we should reject the Lesbian Bed Death

This ‘drop off’ of sexual intimacy certainly won’t be the case for all lesbian couples though. It’s also important to remember that our sex lives sit on a spectrum, according to Miranda.

Largely, Lesbian Bed Death should be a term taken with a pinch of salt – after all, to reduce lesbian women in long term relationships to cohabiters is plain wrong.

In fact, a study has shown that while lesbian women were found to have less frequent sex, the sex they did have was ‘more prolonged, intense, and orgasmic’, than those in heterosexual relationships.

The Chapman University study also found women in same-sex relationships were found to be more likely to experience orgasm at 85%, versus 66% in heterosexual relationships.

Lesbian women also had sex that lasted more than 30 minutes (72%), versus 48% for heterosexual women.

What areas did lesbian couples have more frequent sex in?

  • Oral sex: lesbian (53%), heterosexual (41%)
  • Deep kissing: lesbian (80%), heterosexual (71%)
  • Stimulation by hand: lesbian (90%), heterosexual (83%)
  • Use of sex toys in partnered sex: lesbian (62%), heterosexual (40%)
  • Discussed erotic fantasies: lesbian (44%), heterosexual (36%)

Percentages were higher for lesbians when it came to mood setting activities including using music, candles, saying ‘I love you’, scheduling time for sex and arranging romantic breaks.

Miranda also says that the implications of a death bed are pretty dire, when actually some lesbian couple’s sex lives may not suffer at all.

‘This concept of lesbian bed death, is it’s almost this idea sex is going to drop off completely,’ she explains. ‘It sounds like it’s going to meet an abrupt ending at some point, doesn’t it? I think that’s a complete misconception.’

She adds: ‘It’s a bit scare mongering. For some couples, if neither party is bothered, then less or no sex is not an issue – it’s an issue when one wants to have sex and the and the other doesn’t.

‘That’s also regardless of whether it’s a same sex couple or an opposite sex couple.’

While Miranda does see plenty of women struggling with a lack of desire, a lack of sex or intimacy but that’s because she only sees people who are struggling with their relationships in her line of work.

There are countless lesbian couples who aren’t experiencing Lesbian Bed Death and are have sex as and when they want.

‘I see both same sex and opposite relationships who are experiencing desire discrepancy so my observations are that desire, interest, frequency and enjoyment of sex is not determined by gender, sexuality or relationship configuration,’ Miranda says.

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What you should know about coming out as LGBTQ+ in your 20s and 30s

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For LGBTQ+ baby boomers, coming out in your 30s was the norm. The average age to come out among Gen Z is in your teens.

Greater social acceptance and more LGBTQ+ representation in culture, such as the Netflix series Heartstopper and Sex Education, are making it easier for young people to be open about their sexuality and identity.

Despite this, some people still don’t come out until their late 20s, 30s or later. If you are in this position, you may feel like you are “behind” younger people who are openly LGBTQ+. But you are not alone. Coming out is a process that unfolds over time, and may take longer for some than for others.

An LGBTQ+ person first has to recognise and accept their sexual orientation or gender identity, before making decisions about whether, when, and how to tell others. The time it takes to fully understand and accept your sexuality or gender and be ready to disclose it to others can vary considerably.

You may know that you are LGBTQ+ from a young age, or this self-discovery may happen later in life. You may experience fluidity in your sexuality or gender identity, whereby your identity may shift over time.

If you identify as bisexual or non-binary, you may face additional challenges such as feeling misunderstood or pressure to “pick a side”, due to limited social understanding and stereotypes that these identities are “just a phase”.

If you are in your 20s or 30s, you may have received relatively little LGBTQ+ inclusive relationship and sex education (RSE) at school. In the UK, you may have been at school under section 28 which prohibited the “promotion” of homosexuality. The chilling effect of this law persisted even after its repeal in 2003, with many educators cautious about openly discussing LGBTQ+ topics.

Statutory guidance in 2020 made LGBTQ+ inclusive RSE compulsory. But it left room for inconsistency in how it is taught.

Internalised stigma

If you are from a conservative religious or cultural background, you may be dealing with anti-LGBTQ+ attitudes in your family or community. This can lead to internalised stigma, shame and delayed self-acceptance. Research suggests that people from ethnic minority communities may have culturally specific challenges.

Coming out also isn’t one time event. You might choose different levels of openness depending on the context and may be more out in some spheres of life than others. You might be “out” to friends before telling family. It is also not always a linear process. Some people may “go back into the closet” due to negative reactions, experiences or social stigma.

My research with colleagues at Coventry University into so-called “conversion therapy” found that people who had been subjected to efforts to change their sexuality reported that they were discouraged from telling others they were LGBTQ+. Many also said that it negatively affected their mental health and delayed their self-acceptance.

It can take time to undo years of internalised stigma and shame, so be kind to yourself. Remember that negative thoughts and feelings about being LGBTQ+ are often rooted in messages from your social environment, not a reflection of your intrinsic worth.

Challenges and benefits of coming out later

While societal acceptance has progressed, coming out in your quarter life can present unique challenges. You may fear, for example, that it will impact relationships and friendships that you have established over many years.

If you are with a heterosexual partner in early adulthood, breaking the news to them and any children from the relationship can be particularly challenging.

On the other hand, coming out later may give you the benefit of a more developed understanding of yourself, and greater interpersonal skills gained from more life experience. You may also have more independence from your parents, which can help if they have a negative reaction.

Two men sit on the floor with a small toddler, all playing together as a family
It’s never too late to live as your authentic self.

How important is coming out?

Research suggests that living authentically is generally associated with greater psychological wellbeing. But coming out is an individual choice and no one should be pressured to disclose their LGBTQ+ status to others, particularly if it may put your safety at risk. LGBTQ+ people may be at risk of “honour”-based violence or forced marriage in some communities.

Meanwhile, concealing your identity can have complex mental health implications. While it might protect you from discrimination, keeping your authentic self a secret can be a significant source of stress.

If you are newly learning about your sexuality, identifying as LGBTQ+ or thinking about coming out, finding peer support can be helpful. You may want to join an LGBTQ+ group in your community or online, confide in a trusted person or seek support from a professional or an LGBTQ+ charity.

No one can tell you how to identify or whether you should come out, but they may help you to clarify your sense of self, explore the pros and cons of coming out and help you navigate the process.

Remember, your loved ones may experience a range of emotions when you come out to them. Give them time and space to process their own feelings. While their initial reaction might not be what you hope for, it doesn’t define your future relationship. With time to adjust, your relationship may even grow stronger.

Everyone’s journey is unique, and deciding whether and when to come out should be guided by personal comfort and safety. Ultimately, there’s no right time to come out, and it’s never too late to live authentically.

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What Is “Natural” for Human Sexual Relationships?

— A biological and anthropological researcher explains how humans’ diverse ways of mating might have evolved.


Members of a pro-polyamory group march in Toronto’s 2018 LGBTQ Pride Parade.

By Rui Diogo

Marrying more than one person constitutes a crime across most of the Americas and Europe. But in countries including Mali, Gambia, and Nigeria, more than a quarter of the population lives in polygamous households.

Survey the sex lives of Homo sapiens, and you’ll find couples, throuples, harems, and other arrangements of lovers. Fidelity, adultery, and ethically non-monogamous unions. How could one species have evolved myriad ways to mate? Concerning sex, what is natural for us humans?

A green book cover features two images at the top: a painting of a person and a photo of two adults and two children gathered in a forest. Beneath the images, large white text reads, “Meaning of Life, Human Nature, and Delusions.” Smaller blue text reads, “Rui Diogo” and “How Tales About Love, Sex, Races, Gods, and Progress Affect Our Lives and Earth’s Splendor.”

As an evolutionary biologist and anthropologist, I am often asked that question. The answer is complex. It also goes to the heart of the nature versus nurture debate, a topic that I have been discussing for several years, including in my latest book, Meaning of Life, Human Nature, and Delusions.

As discussed in that book, the scientific and historical evidence suggests that our earliest human ancestors, after we split from the chimpanzee lineage some 7 million years ago, were mainly polygamous. Individuals had various sexual partners at the same time. Fast forward to today, and humans exhibit diverse mating arrangements due to a greater influence of culture and tradeoffs between sexual desire, comfort, and jealousy.

how humans mate

Numerous lines of evidence contribute to my understanding of human mating habits.

As a biologist, I turn to the sex lives of nonhuman primates: Most species appear polygamous, including our closest relatives, chimpanzees. For these apes, both males and females have several hetero- and homosexual partners.

Fossils indicate the earliest hominins—the evolutionary branch leading to humans after its split from chimps—resembled upright walking apes. Considering these first human ancestors looked and acted like apes in many ways, it’s likely they mated polygamously.

But putting on my anthropologist’s hat and observing humans today, I notice a considerable variety of mating systems. Different cultures enforce or reinforce very different sexual practices. For instance, in some regions of Tibet, a woman can live with several husbands (polyandry). In countries such as Pakistan, men typically live with more than one wife (polygyny).

Across dozens of Indigenous Amazonian societies, pregnant women and those trying to conceive have sex with different men based on the idea of “shared or partible paternity.” According to people who hold this belief, semen from multiple fathers contribute to a developing fetus. A woman might have sex with the community’s fastest runner and best hunter to pass on these desirable traits to her child.

So how did mating habits evolve from our polygamous primate past to our variable human present?

Cultural differences can overtake biological foundations, as numerous historical cases evidence. For example, ancient texts indicate that men imposed monogamy upon women—but not necessarily on themselves—when agriculture emerged in several regions around the globe. As historian Stephanie Coontz has argued, farming lifestyles created notions of private property, which extended in some places to greater subjugation of women. In the early farming societies of ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, wedding rings, worn by the wife, symbolized that she was owned by her husband. Patriarchs from the Bible’s Old Testament such as Jacob and David had multiple wives.

TRADEOFFS AND CULTURE

This brings us to the nature versus nurture debate, which is crucial for understanding love, sex, and marriage. A person’s natural biological drives may differ from behaviors they’ve absorbed through nurture, or their upbringing in a particular culture. (The nature/nurture debate itself proves to be problematic because, for social animals like humans, biology and culture intertwine.)

But, as I see it, monogamous marriage is mostly a cultural imposition, associated with three conflicting drives: sexual desire, comfort, and jealousy.

Sexual desire, grown from our polygamous primate roots, makes people want many partners or at least sexual novelty. I suggest that is why some married partners try to introduce novelty by wearing sexy underwear or otherwise changing routines. Providing a somewhat quantitative measure, studies have shown that changing sexual partners in swing clubs or while watching pornography often reduces a penis’ recovery (“refractory”) period between orgasm and the next erection.

However, two other emotions also play key roles in shaping our mating habits. One is jealousy, which derives from territoriality, a trait observed in most primates. Monogamy can diminish jealousy but may leave one sexually desiring more.

In some cases, those with power have enjoyed reduced jealousy and many sexual partners. For example, certain rulers have maintained harems with dozens of wives, but those women were expected to only sleep with their shared husband. Similarly, sexist religious narratives have been used to justify men keeping several wives but not the opposite.

The third critical emotion is comfort or familiarity. If, say, you develop cancer at age 70, you probably would want someone by your side who loves you—a monogamous mate. That desire for familiarity may not be met in cases of polygamy, in which one person has several sexual partners without love necessarily being involved.

A person wearing an ornate red headpiece and cape stands beside a balding person in a plaid suit jacket and gray pants. Other people wearing decorative beaded head and waist bands hold umbrellas and dance behind them.

Recently, it seems polyamory has gained steam in countries such as the U.S. and Canada. This arrangement recognizes that people may have a desire for many partners but concedes to some religious and philosophical narratives: for instance, Plato’s argument that sex without love is a sin or less noble. With polyamory, the idea is, “yes I do have sex with many, but I love them all.” And those partners also love others.

I see polyamory as an evolutionary rare and historically recent form of mating. Those who partake probably satisfy their desires for multiple mates and comfort/familiarity. But they may still suffer jealousy when their beloveds openly love others.

When it comes to love and mating, there are no perfect solutions. Each type of relationship balances sexual desire, comfort, and jealousy in different measures, subject to cultural influences. Some trends indicate that monogamous marriage is falling out of fashion for younger people in places such as the U.S. But there’s no reason to think that loveless polygamy, or love-flush polyamory, will overtake other arrangements.

Likely, humans in diverse societies will continue to love and mate in many different ways.

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