Alex Alberto (they/them) is a queer and polyamorous storyteller who lives in Upstate New York.
The following is an adapted excerpt from their memoir “Entwined: Essays on Polyamory and Creating Home,” which is available for preorder (out February 19).
“Entwined” tells the story of Alberto’s decade-long polyamorous journey toward a new kind of family.
My partner entered the hospital room in a blue gown, his clothes stuffed in a clear plastic bag.
“You left the back untied!” I said, with a forced chuckle.
“Oh, they see hairy butts all day long,” Don replied. “Plus, most of their patients aren’t as sexy as me…”
Standing in the doorway, he pulled his gown up and lifted his thigh, toes seductively pointed on the floor. I rose from the chair, smiled, and snapped a picture of him. I knew he was trying to set a mood that meant this wasn’t a big deal. In the five years we’d been together, I’d pictured him dying or falling seriously ill hundreds, maybe thousands of times.
The author’s partner, Don, while in the hospital.
I’ve always been worried that something would happen to Don
I’d always imagined it would be around his 51st birthday, the age my father was when he had a stroke that left him paralyzed and unable to speak. I’d had intrusive thoughts about all my loved ones suddenly dying or getting sick ever since. Every time I’d voice my fears, Don patiently held me and said he’d live healthily for a very, very long time. But here he was, at 40, about to undergo heart surgery.
While Don was in the operating room, I sat on the blue vinyl chair in his office, grateful that his research center was in the hospital and that I had a quiet place to cry. I had a pile of memoirs and hours of crime podcasts saved on my phone.
“The procedure can take anywhere between three and 10 hours,” a nurse had told us, shaking her head. I looked at the books at my feet and didn’t pick any up. I turned the fluorescent light on, and turned it off. I looked at the psychology diplomas behind his desk. He had finally gotten them framed, 10 years after his last graduation. I sat on the floor and leaned on his desk.
The author and their partner, Don.
During his surgery, I considered reaching out to his ex
I thought of calling Bridget, Don’s ex. Don met Bridget a year into our relationship; they’d dated for three years. Bridget broke up with him the summer before. He was over her, but I still missed her. She and I texted here and there, but it seemed inappropriate to call now.
Before Bridget, I’d never felt the power of a metamour bond — the bond with my partner’s partner. Don had a few girlfriends who were around for a few months, but we never clicked. One had a high-pitched, nasal voice that scratched my insides, another answered all my questions with a single word. But Bridget was present in conversation, and, like me, initiated her journey into polyamory while single. “Monogamy was a coat that never fit quite right,” she’d told me. She was a kindred spirit. I felt seen.
The success rate of Don’s procedure was high, so my rational brain trusted everything would be fine, and that his arrhythmia would disappear. But I also imagined sitting in a waiting room alone 10, 20 years down the road, a doctor telling me they couldn’t save him. That anticipated grief cinched my insides.
I then imagined that Bridget was part of that hypothetical future. I pictured us holding each other while crying, reminiscing about Don’s quirks: his bedside table full of protein bar wrappers that he ate in the middle of the night, how he mindlessly wiggled his thumb above his phone when he was reading the news, the way he kissed us both on the back of the neck. Sharing the pain of losing a partner made the possibility of it seem bearable.
Through polyamory, I’ve made connections beyond my own partners
When I began my journey into non-monogamy, I was focused on the freedom of developing romantic and sexual intimacy with multiple people. But in my relationship with Bridget, I realized metamours could become core members of my family.
Don’s surgery went well, but I couldn’t shake the creeping worry that I had become too reliant on him. That my identity and well-being were primarily tied to him. While I’d had other committed partners since meeting him, those relationships had ended. But I didn’t expect that Bridget breaking up with Don could also break my heart.
Polyamory has shown me a way to expand my family and make it more resilient. My life experience has made me acutely aware and sensitive to the vulnerability of the nuclear family. My half-sister’s father drowned when she was 11. My uncle was a trucker and died in an accident when he was in his early 30s. Both my grandfathers died of heart attacks in their early 60s. My father had his stroke well before his retirement age. When I think of a resilient future, it necessitates having multiple life partners. I need to know my stool won’t get knocked over if one leg breaks.
The desire for love is universal. It’s rare to encounter a human being who has never yearned for true love, but what does the term even mean?
>We associate “true love” with fairytales and Disney, or with extravagant weddings and romantic films about couples overcoming adversity together and building a beautiful life together.
The concept of true love is even puzzling to researchers, with academic literature indicating love is an experience that boils down to a collection of emotions that further our ability to survive.
While there certainly is truth in this, from the drive to reproduce to the intense attachment that can provide support during the end of our lives, deep love can be hard to spot.1
It isn’t uncommon to wonder if you’ve found true love, or if the love you once thought was your end game is fading, and if true love even lasts. We’ve got you. This article will help you spot and learn how to nurture deep, secure, love in—hopefully—its truest form.
Characteristics of True Love
To learn how to identify true love, it’s important to understand the characteristics of it. A key component of true love is an unwavering sense of mutually feeling respected and valued. Speaking poorly of each other and breaking the agreed-upon boundaries of the relationship exist as the antithesis of these traits.
Lauren Consul, LMFT
Secure love isn’t a fixed endpoint; it’s a continual journey where partners actively and consistently show up for themselves, each other, and the relationship.
— Lauren Consul, LMFT
Unconditional acceptance and support are also key to true love. The same way you don’t speak poorly of each other, it is also important that you accept and support one another in the best and worst of times. This doesn’t mean that you evade difficult truths. In true love, you can trust that you can be honest. Furthermore, you can trust that your partner is honest with you.
But, true love isn’t only about respect, values, and boundaries. There are also enchanting elements that keep you in the relationship when times feel tough.
To dig deeper into the magic, we talked to licensed marriage and family therapist Lauren Consul, “Secure love isn’t a fixed endpoint; it’s a continual journey where partners actively and consistently show up for themselves, each other, and the relationship.” This is a key point to remember—true love isn’t the end of a book. It’s the process of writing an evolving story. “It involves experiencing a sense of safety, assurance, and significance in the eyes of your partner,” she continued. This type of connection helps develop a deep emotional bond and intimacy.
How does true love feel?
When it comes to the concept of love, it isn’t uncommon to hear people say you’ll just know. There’s good reason for this. An element of love is unspeakable, it is a feeling above all. “It goes beyond merely being heard; it’s about feeling that your words hold importance for your partner,” shares Consul. This feeling indicates emotional connection, trust, and vulnerability.
True love feels less like adrenaline and more like the sense of calm you’re left with after receiving a much-needed hug. It doesn’t leave you with questions or mixed-up emotions and feels authentic in a deeper way than what many of us have experienced.
However, things can get tricky. You can have a deep love for someone and also no longer wish to continue in a relationship with them. Though this may seem contradictory, such a predicament isn’t an indicator of a lack of depth, “True love doesn’t conquer all…it coexists with external circumstances that may end the relationship journey, but does not end the love,” says Consul.<
Similarly, she shares that someone can also love another but be unable to truly express that love because they have yet to do important internal work. Alas, this is when we end up in the unfortunate predicament of emotional unavailability. Yet, in a secure loving relationship, both parties are dedicated to doing the work to ensure they are available for the sweetness a relationship can bring.
How do I find it?
Dating to find true love can be a daunting task in a world where many people are just looking for casual connections. However, with some persistence, focus, and self-work, it is possible to not only find your match but to enjoy the journey along the way.
“With dating, a crucial aspect is self-awareness. That means understanding both your positive attributes and the baggage you carry,” explains Consul. She continued by acknowledging that while it is important to honor your strengths and deservingness of a great relationship, it is more critical that you’re aware of your baggage, generational patterns, trauma, and triggers. Once you have cultivated that awareness, you can do the deep self-work required to ensure you can show up to a romantic relationship with emotional availability and patience.
As for the logistics of dating? Somatic psychotherapist, coach, and mindfulness teacher Francesca Maximé gave us her thoughts: “Dating apps are always going to be an option, but try to meet people in real life.”
She suggests volunteering, joining a sports league, or taking a class as options. She continued by explaining that getting to know someone through a shared interest can take the pressure off of the early days of dating.
Maintaining True Love
So, you’ve found the love. How do you keep it? According to Consul, the bedrock of a thriving, long-term relationship lies in sustained curiosity. Curiosity helps avoid assumptions, which in turn avoids judgment while fostering intimacy and solutions.
Beyond curiosity is effective communication. Research shows that the way a couple navigates conflict is directly indicative of the quality of the relationship.2 Conflict isn’t bad for a relationship and is a great way couples can learn how to navigate challenges together.
“Frequently, we fall into the trap of making assumptions because we believe we know our partner inside out. However, this can gradually erode a relationship, leading to disconnection.” You can cultivate a sense of curiosity by continually asking questions. It can be as simple as, “What is your favorite food right now?” Or, “What is something new you’ve learned lately?” Though these questions may seem elementary, you’ll be surprised at what conversations they can open up.
Francesca Maximé, somatic psychotherapist
True love is much more about secure functioning together. It increases your capacity to be kind and selfless, have boundaries, and be a discerning individual, all at the same time with your lover,.
— Francesca Maximé, somatic psychotherapist
Another tool to tap into is the Gottman Institute’s Card Deck app. The Gottman Institute, founded by the creators of the Gottman Method Drs. John and Julie Gottman, is committed to providing research-based therapy and support to couples around the world. Their Card Deck app utilizes a series of open-ended questions and activities that are designed to increase emotional connection, understanding, and intimacy.
If you’re noticing things are feeling particularly rocky within your relationship, consider seeking out therapy. Couples therapy is an excellent tool that can help you streamline your communication, physical connection, and emotional understanding of one another. If you’re not sure where to begin, Inclusive Therapists is an excellent therapist directory where you can search for therapists based on identity, modality, location, fee, and more.
Keep in Mind
While true love takes work, your fruits of labor will be well worth it. “True love is much more about secure functioning together. It increases your capacity to be kind and selfless, have boundaries, and be a discerning individual, all at the same time with your lover,” explains Maximé.
If you’ve found it, trust that you can sustain it. If you’re looking for it, trust it is waiting for you.
Unless you’re talking about a campfire or stove, it’s time to stop worrying about “keeping the spark alive.”
Why it matters: Although pop culture and well-meaning friends may have told you that maintaining a “spark” is important for sustaining long-term romantic relationships, sex educator Emily Nagoski says that thinking is misguided.
Driving the news: Nagoski, who has bestsellers on women’s sexuality and burnout, today released “Come Together,” a science-backed book on intimacy in long-term marriages and partnerships.
She was inspired to write the book after experiencing a sexual lull with her husband, which many couples can relate to: In our high-stress lives, it’s normal to take breaks from sex.
Researchanddata on couples who have lasting sexual connections suggests that success has much more to do with friendship and prioritizing pleasure (and not spontaneous desire).
Some of Nagoski’s myth-busting tips about sexual connection:
Don’t worry about the “spark” and being in the mood all the time, Nagoski says.
Hyperfocusing on that could actually make you less open to intimacy.
Instead, successful couples like and admire each other, and believe they’re worth the effort of prioritizing intimacy.
Don’t be afraid to talk about sex with your partner. It doesn’t mean that something is wrong.
In fact, Nagoski says the contrary is true.
“The couples who have great long term sexual connections talk about sex all the time, the same way you talk about any hobby. [That’s] the way you make it great,” she says.
And note that a dry spell isn’t a dysfunction or sign that your relationship lacks love, Nagoski says, but it could be an indication that it’s time to assess what aspects of your life are hitting what she calls the sexual “brakes.”
Be open to planning intimacy.
It’s a misconception that scheduling sex means you don’t want it enough, Nagoski says.
“Our lives are complicated. My calendar is packed. If I didn’t put sex on the calendar, it would not happen, as it takes deliberately protecting space, time and energy to engage in this behavior,” she says.
Stop worrying about what other people are doing.
Nagoski refuses to answer the question, “How much sex does the average couple have?” — because “it’s impossible to hear the number and not judge yourself against it.” Plus, that doesn’t mean the sex is enjoyable, which is a much better measure of a healthy sex life.
But more to the point, she says: “What matters is whether or not you like the sex you are having.”
Instead of stressing over frequency, it’s better to focus on the context of when sex is desirable for you and your partner — there’s a good chance you may require different ways into a lusty mood, which Nagoski explains in her book.
Bottom line: In a long-term sexual relationship, what matters is that you trust each other, decide that sex is important, and prioritize the needs of your unique relationship, Nagoski says.
Consensual non-monogamy refers to a relationship structure in which all parties involved agree to engage in romantic, sexual or otherwise intimate relationships with multiple partners with the complete knowledge and consent of everyone involved. It encompasses various forms of non-monogamous arrangements, including but not limited to:
Polyamory. Having multiple, concurrent romantic and/or sexual relationships.
Open relationships. Sexual relationships with others outside of the primary partnership, while maintaining emotional commitment to each other.
Swinging. Romantically exclusive partners seek out shared sexual experiences with other individuals or couples. For instance, they may swap sexual partners with another couple.
Research shows that consensually non-monogamous relationships have similar levels of relationship quality and well-being as compared to monogamous relationships and it is natural to think about exploring them. However, there is still a significant amount of stigma and trepidation around entering such relationships. While bringing it up with a monogamous or long-term partner, you may encounter apprehension on their end or even have some questions about the process yourself.
Here are three common questions or fears that arise when considering consensual non-monogamy and how to navigate them.
1. Is Something Missing In Our Relationship?
Entering a non-monogamous relationship can bring up the question of whether there is something missing in the relationship, or even in oneself, and create uncertainty about a partner’s motivation for wanting to try a new arrangement.
However, it is possible to practice non-monogamy while still being in healthy and loving partnerships and the fundamental principle of this arrangement is that all parties involved are aware of the nature of the relationship, have given informed consent and willingly participate in it.
A 2022 survey revealed that two-thirds of Americans report fantasizing about having sex with other people and a third of partnered Americans would ideally like a certain degree of openness in their relationship as long as their primary relationship wouldn’t be compromised, highlighting that this desire is more common than we think.
Research shows that desiring consensual non-monogamy does not necessarily signal relationship problems and could instead be related to pursuing individual and relational well-being, exploring one’s sexuality or sexual fantasies, seeking personal growth, autonomy and novel experiences. Sex researcher Zhana Vrangalova of New York University explains that the human needs for security and companionship can co-exist with the need for novelty, exploration and experience-seeking, rather than competing with them.
Reflecting on your motivation to explore consensual non-monogamy and communicating it clearly to your partner, along with creating an agreement of boundaries, levels of disclosure about other partners, regular relationship check-ins and mutual relationship goals can create an arrangement that is comfortable and reaffirming for all parties.
2. What Will People Think Of Us?
The fear of being ostracized by others is not unfounded, as consensual non-monogamists might be perceived as promiscuous, making excuses for infidelity, less satisfied in their relationships or immoral.
Research shows that consensual non-monogamists often experience erasure of their identity and have to engage in disproportionate emotional labor to be understood in interpersonal relationships. A 2022 study further highlighted the expressions of disapproval, loss of resources, threatening behaviors, character devaluation and relationship devaluation they face.
Additionally, the external stigma and societal idealization of monogamy can become internalized and multi-partnered individuals consequently struggle with feeling that their desires are unnatural and experience psychological distress.
Researchers suggest that unlearning internalized bias, selectively disclosing relationship configurations in safe spaces and seeking support from peers and allies are all important coping tools to navigate this stigma.
3. Will This Change Our Relationship?
The anticipation of drama, jealousy and relationship conflicts deter people from considering consensual non-monogamy even if they are inclined to it. A 2022 study found that those who are more apprehensive about non-monogamy display more “zero-sum thinking” about relationships, referring to the notion that one person’s gain comes at another’s expense. These beliefs lead to viewing non-monogamy as diminishing resources within the primary relationship, such as time, financial support and sexual access to each other.
A 2020 study found that consensual non-monogamists could experience greater sexual satisfaction, especially with a defined and mutually agreed upon goal to address their sexual incompatibilities, without affecting individual life satisfaction or relationship quality with their primary partner.
Vrangalova suggests taking baby steps toward non-monogamy when you are starting out and talking about sexual fantasies rather than shying away from them. “Opening up” the relationship also does not have to physically involve another person.
“You can invite what I like to call the ‘shadow of the third’ into your relationship through shared fantasies, conversations, shared porn consumption, going to ‘play parties’ but maybe to watch and trying out apps that specialize in non-monogamous connections,” suggests Vrangalova.
It is essential to remember that your relationship dynamic is completely up to the two of you and you can set the ground rules together. An honest, open dialogue to address concerns, feelings and needs can help create the experience you both desire.
Ah, the early ’90s: a simpler time. It was before reality TV revolutionized the entitlement of the masses who want to get attention and money for just … existing, before 9/11 and the safety theater of the TSA, before presidential candidates in the U.S. could run on an explicit platform of ending democracy. And it was a time when “What is a butt plug?” was a common question to write into a sex-advice column.
At least that’s how Dan Savage broke down a key difference between writing his advice column then and now during a recent phone conservation from his home in Seattle. “Butt plugs have a wiki page now—I don’t have to explain butt plugs anymore,” said the writer and podcaster, whose Savage Love advice column began publishing in 1991. Now everything is about “situational ethics,” he said, as people’s conception of sex has expanded through the years, thanks in no small part to Savage himself. “And those columns are harder to write—and easier to fuck up.”
“In the mid-’90s, I would say, ‘I write a sex advice column,’ and professors, journalists, researchers wouldn’t want to play in that sandbox because it was so demeaning,” Savage recalled. He said that’s much different now, as I can also attest as the co-author of Slate’s sex advice column, How to Do It. Another change: He said he receives far fewer gay-panic-related questions now than he did when he started, as well as fewer questions that ask in so many words, “Am I normal?” That’s a question, he said, he “worked hard to make go extinct.” There was also the rise of porn tube sites in the mid-aughts, which Savage credits to expanding understanding of the range of sexual practices out there (or, as queer theorist Gayle Rubin put it, “benign sexual variation”). As a result, “you just couldn’t be in denial anymore about how infinitely varied and subjective desire, arousal, turn-ons, kinks—all of that—was, and there’s just this collective shrug where everybody went, ‘We’re all freaks,’” Savage said.
The sex-advice column is a working example of how culture operates as a feedback loop, which is informed by the same public it goes on to inform. In Confidential to America: Newspaper Advice Columns and Sexual Education, David Gudelunas writes that “the primary function of an advice columnist is not to dispense interpersonal advice to writers but rather to serve as a cultural benchmark that both identifies and helps to shift social norms pertaining to human sexuality.” The focus of Gudelunas’ book is “Dear Abby” and “Ask Ann Landers,” so he argues that this role has existed for well over half a century. Writer Tristan Taormino, who said her diaristic Village Voice column Pucker Up (which ran from 1998 to 2008) was a direct result of the paper’s aim to expand upon Savage’s early success, pointed to the term “pegging,” which Savage coined via a 2001 reader contest. “And all of a sudden, ‘pegging’ is in all the advice columns,” she said. “I feel like the audience got savvier.” Taormino has watched the discursive profile of anal sex in general grow over the years. “When my book [The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women] first came out in 1998, people did not want to talk about it. And now, quite literally, there are anal sex columns in Teen Vogue,” she said.
Taormino wrote her own advice column, The Anal Advisor, in the Hustler offshoot Taboo from 1999 to 2014. These days a lot of her advice-giving takes place when she speaks on college campuses; she said she’s seen an increase in questions about BDSM but also a consistency in subject matter over the years. “There’s a through line of basic questions, which haven’t changed since the late ’90s. And that comes out of abstinence-only sex ed,” she said. “Once they get to college, all of a sudden they have the opportunity to ask these questions.”
Audience savviness—or lack thereof—has long been a guiding force of advice columns, and not just for how it has complicated questions. In Newspaper Confessions: A History of Advice Columns in a Pre-Internet Age, Julia Golia writes of the communities that formed around newspaper advice columns of old, like The Detroit News’ Experience, which regularly featured reader input on questions, resulting in an “anonymous community in a mass-media form to ask for guidance, but also to be heard and valued.” As Golia told me, “That traditional model cannot be understood outside of the constant dialogue that happens on the internet.”
In her book, Golia draws a parallel to the subreddit Am I the Asshole?, a crowd-sourced Reddit advice column for the modern age that effectively amputates the central personality of the traditional model for something more democratic. Carolyn Hax, who has published a now-daily advice column in the Washington Post since 1998, regularly integrates reader responses to questions in her answers. She told me this was in part a product of an active online community in the comments section. Once a week, Hax sits out and her column is devoted entirely to reader responses. Hax’s column is more about general relations than sexual ones, though she does occasionally broach the topic. Previously, she was less confident about opining in an area of specialized knowledge, but now, “I’m much more comfortable with the idea of just being sex-positive,” she said. “My understanding of this has gotten so much better over the years—of what works and what doesn’t work and what comes with a with a side of shame, which complicates everything and makes it worse. That’s just time and experience.”
Feedback has been a mixed blessing for Savage. “A lot of us learn to stop reading our mentions,” he said. And yet, he’s learned and grown from being “yelled at” by readers—sometimes literally. He recalled running into writer Kate Bornstein on the streets of Seattle in the ’90s, who took him to task for something “jokey stupid” he wrote about gender-confirmation surgery. Their meeting spawned a column, which introduced the gender theorist to many of Savage’s readers. And all “because I fucked up,” Savage said. “And because I was receptive when Kate Bornstein said, ‘You fucked up.’ I didn’t tell her to fuck off. I didn’t do a Netflix special about how much I hate her.” Still, when Savage started writing in print, his archive wasn’t instantly accessible as it is today. “There was this understanding that writers and columnists were still thinking and reassessing and revising their opinions as more info or life experience came in,” he recalled. “And somehow the internet destroyed people’s ability to perceive that or allowed bad actors to argue that that’s not what you did. They will hold up the bloody shirt of something you wrote 25 years ago, and you’re like, ‘Have you read anything that I’ve written in the last 20 years about literally that?’”
As forebears to the modern advice column like Dr. Ruth Westheimer and Loveline’s Dr. Drew Pinsky did on television and radio, respectively, many of today’s self-styled dispensers of advice have expanded beyond the written word, using TikTok, YouTube, and podcasts. (Savage’s Savage Lovecast turns 18 this year.) This is another mixed blessing, according to Dr. Debby Herbenick, professor and director of Indiana University Bloomington’s Center for Sexual Health Promotion. “I think there’s a lot of upsides to video-based sex education, and sex information coming out,” said Herbenick, who has written several advice columns, including Kinsey Confidential for the Kinsey Institute from 2001 to 2018. “It can be entertaining, it can be engaging, it can get it to lots of different sources. On the other hand, there’s also not a lot of eyes on it for fact-checking. When you don’t have something that’s kind of written out there that people can parse and go through, it really does kind of become a little invisible.”
Taormino noted that the market for sex podcasts is “saturated—and we’re all vying for the same ad dollars.” She contrasted the post-Savage boom that saw the birth of her “Pucker Up” column and countless others crop up with the current censorious state of media, in which writers and sex workers are penalized for talking about sex on social media. Herbenick recalled a drug-store chain dropping an unnamed magazine she wrote for as the result of her writing about sex. “I had to fight to talk about HPV and sex toys,” she said. “And I didn’t always win those fights. And when I did, those publications were taking a risk.”
Shrinking and obliterated newsrooms only add to the difficulty of writing about sex (at least, writing about sex and getting paid for it). A certain strain of common wisdom states that “people don’t read anymore,” and so it’s only natural that a lot of the public sex discourse has poured into audio and visual media, or pithy comments on crowd-sourced advice columns like r/amitheasshole. Yet the written sex-advice column persists.
For Savage’s part, he remains just as engaged as he was 33 years ago. “I’m getting questions now from the middle-aged children of the people I gave advice to before they had kids,” he said. “If I had to write ‘What’s a butt plug?’ over and over and over again, forever, I’d probably lose my mind. The trouble that people get themselves into seems to constantly be interesting. And the situational ethics, there’s an infinite number. One genre of sex advice is, ‘What’s a butt plug?’ There’s an infinite number of ways that people can shit the bed and fuck up their life and need help or need validation or need to be told that they’re not the asshole or be told that they are the asshole. And so I think it is still interesting. And I still get questions that surprise me.”
— It turns out every part of the narrative we’re taught about how desire works is not merely wrong, but wrongheaded
Young beautiful woman is kissing her boyfriend gently. Their eyes are closed. Couple is illuminated with bright multicolored lights.
By Emily Nagoski
When I first began having long(ish)-term sexual relationships during my college years I believed an old-fashioned narrative about how desire works. We’re told it’s all passion and “spark” early in a relationship, and that lasts a couple of years maybe. Then we have kids or buy a fixer-upper house or generally get busy with work and life, and the spark fizzles out, especially after 50, when apparently every hormone we ever had floats away on a sea of aging and we’re left, sexless and neutered, to hold hands at sunset.
Our options, we’re told, are either to accept the fizzling of our desire for sex or to fight against it, to invest our time, attention and even our money in “keeping the spark alive”.
Well, it turns out every part of that narrative is not merely wrong, but wrongheaded. A lot of books about sex in long-term relationships are about “keeping the spark alive”, and they too are wrongheaded. They’re so 20th century, with their rigid gender scripts and cringingly oversimplified ideas about sex and evolution.
I call this mess of wrongheadedness the desire imperative. The desire imperative says:
At the start of a sexual and/or romantic relationship, we should feel a “spark”, a spontaneous, giddy craving for sexual intimacy with our (potential) partner that might even feel obsessive.
The sparky desire we’re supposed to feel at the beginning of a relationship is the correct, best, healthy, normal kind of desire, and if we don’t have it, then we don’t have anything worth having.
If we have to put any preparation or planning into our sex lives, then we don’t want it “enough”.
If our partner doesn’t just spontaneously want us, out of the blue, without effort or preparation, on a regular basis, they don’t want us “enough”.
The desire imperative puts desire at the center of our definition of sexual well-being. It says there is only one right way to experience desire, and without that, nothing else matters. And so people worry about sexual desire. If desire changes or it seems to be missing, people worry that there’s something very wrong. It’s the most common reason couples seek sex therapy.
Here’s the irony of the desire imperative: does all that worry about “spark” make it easier to want and like sex? On the contrary, worry mainly puts sex further out of reach.
But there’s an alternative: center pleasure.
Desire is not what matters. Not “passion”, not “keeping the spark alive”.
Pleasure is what matters.
Center pleasure, because great sex over the long term is not how many orgasms you have or even how enthusiastically you anticipate sex, but how much you like the sex you are having.
Great sex over the long term is not how many orgasms you have but how much you like the sex you are having.
Spontaneous desire v responsive desire
A simple place to start changing how we think about desire and pleasure is understanding what sex researchers and therapists say about desire. They call the “spark” of the desire imperative “spontaneous desire”, and it is one of the normal ways to experience sexual desire, but it is not associated with great sex in a long-term relationship.
They also describe “responsive desire”, which is not a “spark” feeling but rather an openness to exploring pleasure and seeing where it goes. It often shows up as “scheduled” sex, where you plan ahead, prepare, groom, get a babysitter and then show up. You put your body in the bed, you let your skin touch your partner’s skin, and your body wakes up! It says: “Oh, right! I really like this! I really like this person!” Where spontaneous desire emerges in anticipation of pleasure, responsive desire emerges in response to pleasure.
Both are normal and neither is better than the other … but it’s responsive desire that is associated with great sex over the long term.
Not “passion”, not “spark”, but pleasure, trust and mutuality. That’s the fundamental empirical reason to center pleasure over spark.
Pleasure is sensation in context
Pleasure is the measure of sexual well-being – that is, whether or not you like the sex you are having.
So, what even is pleasure?
Well. Does a sensation feel good? How good? Does it feel bad? How bad?
That’s the whole thing. Pleasure is the simplest thing in the world, in the sense of declaring whether a sensation feels good or not. Next time you’re eating your very favorite food, notice what that pleasure is like – the food’s appearance, its texture, aroma and flavor. Notice what pleasure does to your body. Pleasure is simple …
But that doesn’t mean it’s always easy. We’ve been lied to about the nature of pleasure, just as we’ve been lied to about the nature of desire. We’ve been told that sexual pleasure is supposed to be easy and obvious, and if it’s not easy and obvious, then there’s something wrong. For some people, experiencing pleasure is like finding Waldo: so frustrating that you start to wonder why you’re even looking.
We’ve been told that pleasure comes from being touched in the right place, in the right way, by the right person, and if that touch, in that place, by that person, feels good some of the time but not other times, that’s a problem. These lies show up in movies and romance novels and porn, where the main characters may be running away from the villain or even just exhausted and overwhelmed by life, but Partner A touches the magic spot on Partner B’s body and it doesn’t matter what else is going on, Partner B’s knees melt and their genitals tingle.
If that’s how pleasure works for you, cool.
For the rest of us, pleasure isn’t about the right place on your body touched in the right way. It’s the right place, the right way, by the right person, at the right time, in the right external circumstances and the right internal state. In short: it’s sensation in the right context.
“Context” means both your internal state and your external circumstances.
A simple example of this is tickling. Tickling is not everyone’s favorite (though it is some people’s favorite!), but you can imagine a scenario where partners are already turned on, in a trusting, playful, erotic situation, and Partner A tickles Partner B and it feels good! But if those same partners are in the middle of an argument about, say, money, and Partner A tries to tickle Partner B, will that feel good? Or would Partner B feel more like punchin’ somebody in the nose than snuggling?
Any sensation may feel good, great, spectacular, just OK or terrible, depending on the context in which you experience it.
Pleasure is a shy animal. We can observe it from a safe distance, but if we approach too fast, it will run. If we try to capture it, it will panic. You have to build trust with your pleasure before it will allow you to observe it closely.
Pleasure happens when we feel safe enough. Trusting enough, healthy enough, welcome enough, at low-enough risk. Everyone’s threshold for “enough” is different, and it changes from situation to situation. But when we create that safe-enough context, our brains have the capacity to interpret any sensation as pleasurable.
Pleasure is not desire (though desire can be pleasurable)
Pleasure and desire are different systems in the brain. At the level of the emotional, mammalian brain, desire is known as “wanting” or “incentive salience”, and pleasure is discussed as “liking” or hedonic impact.
“Wanting”, in the brain, is a vast network of dopamine-related circuitry that mediates how motivated we are to pursue a goal. “Liking”, by contrast, is a set of smaller “hedonic hot spots” where opioids and endocannabinoids mediate how good a sensation feels.
Pleasure is stillness, savoring what’s happening in the moment. Desire is forward movement, exploring to create something that doesn’t currently exist.
Pleasure is a perception of a sensation. Desire is motivation toward a goal.
In a sense, pleasure is satisfaction and desire is dissatisfaction, because pleasure is enjoying an experience, while desire is motivation to pursue something different.
Consider the “wanting” involved in continuous, joyless scrolling on social media. You’re searching for something you can’t name, maybe for the reward of, at last, finding something that makes you feel good or that even confirms your worst fears. You want … something. But you’re not enjoying it, you’re just following the urge to keep looking. Desire without pleasure.
So far, so simple.
Where it can get muddy is in how desire feels. Pleasure, by definition, feels good. Desire per se is more or less neutral; it’s the context that makes it feel good or bad. I think people confuse desire for pleasure because desire sometimes feels good. Once we recognize that desire can also feel bad, we begin to understand both how desire and pleasure are not the same thing and why pleasure is the one that really matters.
How sexual desire feels
Anticipation, expectation, craving, longing – these are all ways of experiencing desire that can feel delightful and even ecstatic. But anticipation, expectation, craving and longing can also feel frustrating, irritating and annoying. Desire can be hope and optimism, but it can also be anxiety and fear.
Whether desire feels good or not depends on the context. All pleasure depends on the context.
If you have experienced desire, stop and recall a moment when it was pleasurable. Probably, the object of your desire, whether it was a lover or a new gadget or a tasty snack, seemed within reach, maybe you felt in control of whether or not you got what you wanted, maybe your desire was grounded in a promise someone made that filled you with anticipation.
The pleasurable version of spontaneous desire is, I think, why people get confused about the difference between pleasure and desire and why we might be convinced that “spontaneous” is the good, right, normal kind of desire. After all, it was “easy” – or at least, it happened out of nowhere – and it was fun.
But spontaneous sexual desire can feel terrible, too. Suppose you can’t figure out how to get closer to your object of desire, or the object of your desire is entirely out of reach or, worse, actively rejecting you, pushing you away. In that context, your ongoing desire can feel like a form of torture.
If you’ve wanted to want sex, you’ve experienced a different uncomfortable desire. Many people who struggle to let go of the “ideal” of spontaneous desire know how awful it feels to want something you can’t get, which is why it’s so important that we remind ourselves that it’s responsive desire, not spontaneous desire, that characterizes great sex over the long term. If you enjoy the sex you have, you’re already doing it right, and you’re allowed to stop trying to create spontaneous desire.
If we think only about the pleasurable experiences of desire, we end up using the words “pleasure” and “desire” more or less interchangeably. But they’re different; we know they’re different because of the brain science. And if pleasure always is pleasurable but desire is only sometimes pleasurable, doesn’t it make sense to center pleasure, and allow desire to emerge in contexts that maximize the chances that the desire will feel good?
Are you still worried about spontaneous desire?
If I wanted to spark controversy, I’d say there’s no such thing as a sexual desire problem, and all the news articles and think pieces and self-help books and medical research focused on a “cure” for low desire are irrelevant. The “cure” for low desire is pleasure. When we put pleasure at the center of our definition of sexual well-being, we eliminate any need to worry about desire.
But I’m not here for controversy, I’m here to make your sex life better. So I’ll just say: don’t sweat desire. If you’re worried about your partner’s low desire, ask them about pleasure. If you’re worried about your own low desire, talk to your partner about pleasure. Desire can be a fun bonus extra; it’s as important as simultaneous orgasms, which is to say, a neat party trick but not remotely necessary for a satisfying long-term sex life.
And yet. In my unscientific survey of a few hundred strangers, some people reported that what they want when they want sex is spontaneity:
“I hate talking about having sex before I have sex. Like if it can’t happen naturally, I kinda don’t want it.”
Oof, that word. “Naturally.”
If the idea of talking about sex, or making a plan before you have it, feels “unnatural”, I am here to acknowledge the reality that talking about sex might deflate spontaneous desire, but also to ask you to consider the possibility that planning sex can be part of the pleasure and that talking about sex is not just natural, it’s part of the erotic connection between you and a partner.
Pleasure happens when we feel safe enough, according to the author.
Maybe every sexual experience you’ve had in response to spontaneous desire has been better than any sex you’ve ever had in response to a plan. But did you really not plan before any of that great “spontaneous” sex? When you’re in a new or emerging relationship, do you not spend time daydreaming about a hot date, making plans for dinner or an adventure together, exchanging flirtatious texts, emails, phone calls, whispers? Hot-and-heavy, falling-in-love horniness is often accompanied by a lot of planning and preparation and, yes, even talking about sex in advance. Do you not spend time getting ready for it, grooming, dressing carefully, making sure you smell good?
Is that … “natural”?
The myth that the “natural” way to have sex is for it to be spontaneously borne of mutual horniness, without having to talk about it or make a plan? That’s the desire imperative. The desire imperative insists that without spontaneous desire, we don’t want sex “enough”. If we have to plan it, there’s a problem.
But consider what our lives are like. We schedule large portions of our days, often weeks or even months in advance. We fill our calendars with work and school and family and friends and entertainment. We fill our bodies with stress and a sense of obligation to others and to ourselves. We impose modern exigencies that don’t even create adequate opportunity for natural sleep, much less unplanned yet mutually enthusiastic sex.
I don’t expect you to believe me right away. I know you’ve been taught to worry about desire. It might even feel troubling or problematic to say that desire doesn’t matter. Maybe you’re thinking: What could you possibly mean, Emily, to not worry about not wanting it and just enjoy it instead? Are you telling me to enjoy sex I don’t want???
On the contrary! I’m saying: Imagine a world where all of us only ever have sex we enjoy. And anything we don’t enjoy, we just don’t do! We don’t do it, and – get this – we don’t worry about not doing it! When we put pleasure at the center of our definition of sexual well-being, sex we don’t like is never even on the table.
Getting married again is not popular. But getting intimate after a few dates is, says a new Kinsey/Match study
By Ellen Uzelac
Most single boomers say they’re ready to get intimate with a new partner by the third date – a practice so common that it’s been dubbed “The Third Date Rule.”
That’s just one of the many trends in dating for older adults found in the latest “Singles in America” study, released by Match in conjunction with the Kinsey Institute, an esteemed educational research institute that is part of Indiana University.
Among other key data points for adults ages 59-77: an overall preference for sexual monogamy, a desire to know more about consent and, for many, a sex drought.
“Regarding the new data, I’m kind of hopeful,” says Justin Garcia, an evolutionary biologist and sex researcher who is executive director of the Kinsey Institute and also a professor with Indiana University’s Department of Gender Studies. “These are things we can think critically about and implement to make our romantic and sexual lives more fulfilling.”
Here are the chief takeaways for older adults:
The third date rule. Sixty-six percent of singles said they were amenable to cuddling by the third date and 58 percent were up for a make-out session. Roughly one-third reported being comfortable with getting naked, touching each other’s naked bodies, performing and receiving oral sex, having vaginal or anal sexual intercourse, and discussing their sexual likes and dislikes.
“Many people give themselves self-imposed rules to guide their behavior in dating,” says Garcia, who coauthored the book Evolution of Sexual Behavior and has served as a scientific adviser for Match.com since 2010. “We are freer than ever to date and love and be intimate with whomever we want, but that freedom and openness can lead to a lack of clarity. I think having rules is a good thing. People, especially in dating, can be nervous, anxious, scared, excited. It gives you a rough goalpost.”
Sex education. Forty-three percent of boomers say more sex ed in their younger years would have helped them have healthier and happier relationships today. Two key missing pieces are that 45 percent said they never learned about how to give or get consent and 49 percent never learned how to talk about sex in general.
“The goal is to make sure people of all ages have the tools to engage in sex in ways that are safe, consensual and fulfilling,” Garcia says. “It’s never too late to invest in learning about the role of sexuality in our lives. For older populations, this information is still so important.”
Garcia suggests talking to a medical professional about sex or accessing academic lectures on aging and sex. “People underestimate the value of stories and articles,” he adds. “If you look for the information, you’ll find it. Don’t be afraid to read the article. Stay informed about how to make sure sex is still pleasurable and satisfying.”
Sexual relationship styles. Just over half of boomers say that traditional sexual monogamy is their ideal sexual relationship and that the three most important factors in a healthy romantic relationship are trust, mutual respect and effective communication.
Few, around 2 percent, identified their ideal relationship as multiple committed partners in an open or consensual nonmonogamous relationship; and 4 percent say uncommitted sexual partners (e.g. hookups, one-night stands) are their ideal. Only about 1 percent want sex via internet or in a virtual reality environment. And 9 percent said their preference was a “friends with benefits” mode.
Nearly 60 percent said they felt empowered and comfortable asking a sexual partner for what they want.
Only 10 percent of single boomers who have been married want to marry again.
Sex drought. A majority of older singles, 74 percent, reported having had no sex in the last 12 months, and 28 percent said “no sexual relationship” was their preferred status. (By comparison, 21 percent of the 5,000-plus U.S. singles age 18-77 identified no relationship as their ideal.)
Although the frequency of sexual activity has declined in a lot of national samples, Garcia says that doesn’t necessarily translate into a lack of interest in having a sexual partner.
He attributes the sex drought in large measure to the stresses in people’s lives today – financial challenges, concern about infectious diseases, recovering from the global trauma of COVID, the loneliness epidemic.
“That’s a lot of weight,” he adds. “The psychological and social stress that people feel is not conducive to sexual desire. It’s a good reminder that when we’re stressed, we might lose our sexual desire.”
Modern relationships continually evolve. Many of us are shaping our relationships in non-traditional ways, moulding them to suit our personal preferences, desires, goals and situations rather than adapting ourselves to traditional relationship styles. For some people, this looks like polyamory or open relationships. For others, it might look like a queer platonic relationship (QPR), also known as a queer platonic partnership (QPP).
We spoke to two sex and relationships experts to understand what queer platonic partnerships are, what they involve, who typically enters this type of relationship, and the pros and cons.
What is a queer platonic partner?
Sex educator Erica Smith says a queer platonic partner is someone that you have a close intimate relationship with, and choose to do things together that are typically done by romantic partners: sharing a home, sharing responsibilities, considering each other to be family, maybe even raising children together. But the relationships are not romantic, and sometimes not sexual either.
“Often, people who consider themselves asexual or aromantic are in queer platonic relationships,” Smith says. Though, other queer people may decide to enter these types of partnerships too.
What are the benefits to having a queer platonic partner?
For many people, being part of a queer platonic relationship involves companionship, family, support, love, and “someone to share all the big life things including expenses with,” according to Smith.
Rebecca Alvarez Story, a sexologist and co-founder of sexual wellness brand Bloomi, adds that as society is evolving and starting to recognise and value different relationships, people are realising that there aren’t one-size-fits-all connections and are open to new experiences. Queer platonic partnerships provide space for all kinds of love and emotions just as a romantic relationship would. Sometimes that kind of love even serves them better, as there is less pressure.
Smith also notes that affordability might affect someone’s decision to enter a relationship like this. “So many people can’t afford rent or a mortgage these days, but being in partnership with someone makes things like housing more accessible. Some queer platonic partners may even choose to marry for the legal and financial benefits. In the U.S., this includes health insurance,” she explains.
Alvarez Story notes that the current cost of living crises in the UK, U.S., and Europe will contribute to this even more so. “The increasing cost of living and a need for the everyday benefits of a life partnership and community, such as co-parenting and financial sharing, might lead people to a queer platonic relationship.” This is especially true if someone finds themselves needing two incomes in a household to fulfill their life but are uninterested in pursuing sex or romance, such as asexual or aromantic people.
“After the COVID period, we have all gotten reminded of just how important socialising and having a reliable person nearby is, as well,” she adds.
Why are more people entering queer platonic relationships?
It’s hard to track exactly how many people are in queer platonic relationships, and it should probably stay that way (do we really need that much surveillance in our intimate relationships?) but it seems like they’re on the increase.
A quick scroll through your For You page on TikTok reveals a number of sweet stories of friends marrying without romantic love or sexual attraction in order to buy a house and raise children together, and we also see examples on our screens. Many look to Hannah and Elijah in HBO’s Girls as the purest example of an attempted queer platonic relationship, as the two LGBTQ+ characters agree to raise Hannah’s child together in the home they already cohabit, and frequently sleep in the same bed and cuddle, as romantic partners would, for comfort. Some even look to Marlin and Dory from Pixar’s Finding Nemo, who many suggest are queer-coded in their platonic cohabiting and raising of Nemo.
Smith says that more people, especially young people, are increasingly defining partnership for themselves outside the small boxes that have been presented to them. This is why you may have seen more queer platonic partnerships popping up lately on your Instagram feed, or portrayed in the media.
After all, why do we elevate romantic relationships above all other relationship structures? We know there have been societal and governmental incentives to be in monogamous marriage for centuries — but it’s 2024, and the way we look at partnership is finally shifting.
“Queer platonic partners challenge conventional ideas of what partnership is, and I think this is so appealing,” Smith says.
Are QPRs just for people who can’t find ‘real’ love?
There may be an assumption that those who have queer platonic relationships do so because they can’t find a “real” relationship, but this isn’t always the case. Some people have actively chosen to be part of a queer platonic relationship when traditional partners or relationships were available to them.
But Alvarez Story says this is very much a misconception. “Often those who identify as asexual or aromantic may be interested in engaging in queer platonic relationships. But, sometimes, people simply like the person and want to explore a deeper friendship that’s different from any other relationships they had in the past,” she says.
Queer platonic relationships don’t have specific rules and partners involved and those participating get to decide on how they want to engage and what type of commitment they are willing to have, so they’re a great fit for anyone who feels constrained by a more traditional relationship style. For a lot of people, shacking up with a friend is the definition of freedom.
Really, the choice to pursue friendship that looks a lot like a cohabiting relationship over “the real thing” shouldn’t come as a surprise. Internet discourse (and probably most real-life conversations too) has been rife with a shared disappointment with modern dating lately. 2021 research from Hinge shows 61 percent of the app’s UK users feel overwhelmed and fatigued when it comes to dating. Scroll through the “dating” search on X to see how visceral this exhaustion is. “Dating is actually a sick and twisted game,” writes one user. “This dating era is horrible,” writes another.
With so many of us feeling this tired, unhappy, and even depressed about dating, is it any wonder why some of us would rather commit to a life with a friend we love, trust, and feel confident we won’t tire of?
For some people, a queer platonic relationship doesn’t rule out sex or romantic love anyway. Some people in these set-ups will continue to date or have sex casually outside of the partnership, much like any open relationship.
The only reason anyone looks down on this type of relationship, according to Smith, is because society has elevated romantic partnerships as the most important kind of relationship there is, and “that kind of thinking runs deep!”
Are there any cons involved with a queer platonic relationship?
Smith notes that queer platonic relationships aren’t really legally recognized unless you have chosen to get married just as two people who are in love might, so this is something to keep in mind before pursuing a queer platonic relationship.
Additionally, Alvarez Story warns that sometimes queer platonic relationships can result in one-sided romantic feelings. “It might be that one partner develops deeper romantic aspirations or sexual desire towards their partner and this isn’t mutual. There can be jealousy and sadness if one partner engages in some type of relationship on the side.”
She adds that, in these cases, a partner might be bothered by other relationships (no matter whether there are any deeper romantic and/or sexual aspirations involved) in the way that there’s less time one can dedicate to their queer platonic partner.
For this reason, it’s important to make sure the two of you are 100 percent on the same page when entering a partnership of this nature, and that you stay open, communicative and honest in case feelings develop or change.
Just like any other relationship, a queer platonic partnership doesn’t have to be the be-all-or-end-all. As long as everyone involved is open and on the same page, you can try this type of partnership to see if it’s right for you and your pal. You might find it’s everything you ever dreamed of, or you might find yourself re-downloading the apps, or a bit of both.
Non-monogamy has been practiced in some circles for a long time, but recently, there’s been more curiosity about the topic.
According to Google data, the term “ethical non-monogamy” has seen more than a 250% increase in search traffic over the past year. A 2020 YouGov poll of 1,300 U.S. adults found that a third of respondents say their ideal relationship is non-monogamous to a degree. And more than 20% of single Americans have engaged in consensual non-monogamy at some point in their lives, per a 2017 study published in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy.
“It’s not just a new fad,” polyamory educator Leanne Yau told HuffPost. “People have been doing non-monogamy for a very long time. I think people are just talking about it more now.”
So what does it mean exactly? Non-monogamy is an umbrella term that encompasses various relationship styles that are not sexually and/or romantically exclusive between two people.
Sarah Stroh, a non-monogamous writer and creator behind the @monogamish_me Instagram account, described it to HuffPost as: “Any relationship structure that is consensually and openly non-monogamous, meaning either — or more likely both — partners in a couple have romantic and/or sexual contact with people other than each other.”
You may have come across the term “ethical non-monogamy,” sometimes referred to as “ENM.” The word “ethical” has been used to differentiate these kinds of relationships — where all parties have talked about and agreed to the arrangement — from ones where cheating is happening.
“It’s not just a new fad. People have been doing non-monogamy for a very long time. I think people are just talking about it more now.”
– Leanne Yau, polyamory educator
But some experts take issue with the term, said Zachary Zane, a sex columnist and sex expert for Archer, a new dating app for queer men. In his book “Boyslut: A Memoir and Manifesto,” he explains the pushback from researchers, educators and activists in the space about use of the word “ethical.”
“They don’t like the term ‘ethical’ because it implies that non-monogamy is inherently unethical. Why else would you feel compelled to preface with ‘ethical’?” he writes in the book.
“It also holds non-monogamy to an unfair, higher standard than monogamy. Monogamous people constantly lie and cheat on their partners, and they don’t have to preface their behaviors with [being] ethical or unethical, so why do non-monogamous folks? Then, of course, many ENM relationships are not ethical. You can absolutely still be a piece of shit even when practicing ENM.”
Instead, many people prefer terms like “consensual non-monogamy” (CNM) or just “non-monogamy.”
There are four main types of non-monogamous relationships.
Some of the common relationship structures that fall under the non-monogamous umbrella include monogamish, swinging, open relationships and polyamory.
“Things can be very fluid between them, but broadly, I see them falling into four types,” Yau said.
Monogamish is a term that was coined by sex and relationships writer and podcast host Dan Savage, and refers to a predominantly monogamous relationship in which “sexual activity outside the relationship is seen as the exception rather than the norm,” Yau said.
“So, that might look like having a threesome on special occasions, or occasionally going to a sex party. Or if there’s a kink that you want to explore, telling your partner and then finding someone to indulge that with,” she explained.
Swinging is when couples have sexual experiences with multiple partners, typically (but not always) as a unit. It often involves swapping partners or engaging in group sex, among other types of sexual play.
“Swinging is something that couples do together, as in they sleep with other people together, and they engage with other singles and/or couples. So that might look like threesomes, foursomes, orgies, sex parties, that kind of thing,” said Yau, noting that the term “swinger” has fallen out of favor to a degree. Some people, especially those in younger generations, may prefer to say they’re part of “the lifestyle” instead.
An open relationship is typically one that is sexually non-monogamous, but romantically monogamous. (Previously, however, people used the term as a catch-all to describe any non-monogamous relationship, Yau noted.)
“So when someone says that they are in an open relationship, I take that to mean that they are only romantically dating one person, but both of them can have casual sex with other people, either separately or together, on the side,” Yau said.
Polyamory is the only form of non-monogamy “where you not only have sexual non-exclusivity, but also romantic non-exclusivity,” Yau said. In other words, you’re part of multiple loving relationships at the same time. This stands in contrast to the other non-monogamous relationships described above in which everything outside of the primary relationship is “kept strictly sexual or casual, however you define that,” Yau explained.
Many common assumptions about non-monogamy aren’t true.
Non-monogamy may be gaining traction but is still very much at odds with our monogamous cultural norms. Stigma and misunderstandings about these types of relationships persist. One common misconception: Non-monogamous relationships aren’t serious or lasting.
“My partner of over three years and I are non-monogamous and expecting a child in January,” Stroh said. “Non-monogamy is not just a phase or a structure for people who want something casual.”
Zane echoed a similar sentiment: “There’s this notion that ENM, specifically polyamory, isn’t sustainable long-term, meaning eventually, you and your partner(s) will break up,” he said. “Needless to say, that isn’t the case. There are poly folks who’ve been with their partners for decades.”
Some people mistakenly believe non-monogamy is cheating, which it’s not. In non-monogamous relationships, everyone should be aware, engaged and “enthusiastically participating,” Yau said. Honest communication, established guidelines and recurring check-ins are foundational here, just as they are in any healthy relationship.
“Non-monogamous relationships, just like monogamous relationships, require that everyone be aware and consenting,” Yau said. “It’s not the same as going behind someone else’s back and just kind of doing your own thing and having multiple partners without anyone knowing.”
“My partner of over three years and I are non-monogamous and expecting a child in January. Non-monogamy is not just a phase or a structure for people who want something casual.”
– Sarah Stroh, a non-monogamous writer
Another common misconception is that non-monogamy is just a last-ditch effort for couples trying to save their marriage.
“Of course, there are some folks who do attempt ENM as their relationship is failing, and the vast majority of the time, it does not save the relationship,” Zane said. “But that’s not the majority of folks who are ENM.”
In fact, if your relationship is in a bad place, introducing non-monogamy is probably only going to make matters worse, Yau said.
“Because non-monogamy requires quite a lot of security and confidence and trust in your partner in order to engage with it in a sustainable and healthy way,” she said. “A relationship that is on its way towards ending anyway is probably not going to be the best fit for that.”
Monogamous people may also assume that non-monogamous people are just inherently less jealous, which isn’t necessarily true.
“Non-monogamous folks are still human,” Zane said. “We still get jealous. We just — hopefully — address it better. Instead of lashing out at our partners, we admit that we’re feeling jealous and insecure, attempt to figure out the root of the jealousy and work together to find a solution.”
There also tends to be this assumption that at least one person in a non-monogamous relationship is being pushed into it against their will.
“Meaning, one partner would prefer to be monogamous but ‘can’t get their partner to commit to them,’” Stroh said. “Of course, these things are true sometimes for people who claim they are polyamorous, but it’s often not the case.”
This perception that one partner is being dragged into it and crying themselves to sleep every night is “really unfair,” Yau said.
“It portrays non-monogamous people as being selfish or toxic or abusive when we’re not interested in dating monogamous people, for the most part,” Yau said. “We want other people who fully accept and validate us and our desires.”
If you’ve recently gone through lifesaving breast cancer treatment, you may be looking forward to better days ahead. But as you try to get back to “normal life,” you might notice a change in your libido.
“Cancer treatment across the board can take a significant toll on the body, and breast cancer is no different,” says Gabriel Cartagena, PhD, a clinical psychologist at Smilow Cancer Hospital at Yale New Haven and an assistant professor at Yale School of Medicine in New Haven, Connecticut.
About 60 to 70 percent of breast cancer survivors report sexuality issues after treatment, according to a study published in 2019 in Breast Cancer, so if you’re having that experience, know that many other women are, too. We asked the experts and have some treatments and tips to help you fire up your sex life after breast cancer.
How Breast Cancer Affects Your Libido
So you can understand how to combat a low libido after breast cancer treatment and take back your sexuality, let’s look at the causes.
Premature Menopause
Several cancer therapies can lead to premature menopause, according to a study published in 2022 in the Journal of Clinical Medicine. Chemotherapy and radiation therapy, for example, can decrease hormone levels in your body and make your menstrual cycle slow down or stop altogether, says Mary Jane Minkin, MD, a codirector of the sexuality, intimacy, and menopause program for cancer survivors at Yale Cancer Center and Smilow Cancer Hospital. For women whose breast cancer is fueled by estrogen, treatment may include medication to block the production of estrogen, or surgical removal of the ovaries. These measures, too, can bring on premature menopause. With menopause symptoms like hot flashes, insomnia, and dry mouth, sex may be the last thing on your mind.
Emotional Distress
A breast cancer diagnosis comes with a lot of emotions. Women diagnosed with breast cancer can be at a higher risk for mental health issues like depression and anxiety, neither of which are conducive to a high libido, according to a study published in 2021.
Vaginal Dryness
When your estrogen takes a nosedive during and after treatment, your vagina can become very dry, says Dr. Minkin. Lack of lubrication in this area can make sex uncomfortable or even painful, according to the American Cancer Society (ACS).
Painful Sex
Painful sex can also arise from pelvic floor dysfunction, which means the muscles in and around your pelvis can be too tight or too loose. That’s according to the research published in the Journal of Clinical Medicine, which also found that women may experience chronic pelvic pain syndrome (unexplained pain in your pelvis) after breast cancer treatment.
Body Changes
If you have had surgery or other body changes during treatment, such as removal or reconstruction of one or both breasts, you may not feel like revealing the new you in a sexual encounter, and new or missing sensations can make it hard to get in the mood. “Many women who have lost breast tissue, particularly if they have lost nipples, may feel [less] sensation in their breasts, and many women find breast stimulation important for sex,” says Minkin.
How to Get Your Groove Back
This list may feel discouraging to read, but you shouldn’t lose hope. “The important thing is that we can help with most of these issues,” says Minkin.
Medications Minkin recommends nonhormonal (estrogen-free) medications to help with symptoms of early menopause. “An over-the-counter herbal product called Ristela can help improve pelvic blood flow and enhance libido,” Minkin says. One meta-analysis published in 2021 found that women who took Ristela and similar products that contain the amino acid L-arginine experienced more sexual arousal, better lubrication, more frequent orgasms, and less discomfort or pain. Many participants reported no side effects at all, but a few experienced an upset stomach, heavier menstrual bleeding, and headache.
“Women can also consult with their providers about using prescription nonhormonal medications called flibanserin (Addyi) or bremelanotide (Vyleesi),” Minkin says. Addyi may be less effective than other options, and can cause fatigue and drowsiness, according to a meta-analysis published in 2022 in Sexual Medicine. Vyleesi, on the other hand, has shown more promise, according to a study published in 2019, with uncommon mild side effects like nausea, flushing, and headaches.
If your low libido stems from feelings of depression or anxiety, medications, often in combination with psychotherapy, are an option you can discuss with your healthcare provider.
Vaginal moisturizers For vaginal dryness, Minkin often suggests over-the-counter nonhormonal vaginal moisturizers, like Replens and Revaree, which are inserted into the vagina with an applicator a few times a week. “[These] work very nicely for many women,” Minkin says.
Toys A vibrator or similar device could be a worthwhile investment. They can boost sensation and increase blood flow to your pelvis, says Minkin, both of which can amplify desire.
Therapy One or more sessions with a counselor can be helpful, says Minkin. Sexual health counselors often use cognitive behavioral techniques to discover the “why” behind your low libido, and help you unlock thought patterns that may be blocking your sexual drive, according to a study published in 2020. Therapy is also an effective treatment for depression and anxiety.
Vaginal hormones Hormone replacement therapy is often used to treat menopause symptoms. But if you’ve had breast cancer, it may increase the risk that it will come back, especially if your cancer is sensitive to hormones. With vaginal hormonal treatments, a cream, tablet, or ring containing low-dose estrogen is placed directly in your vagina to aid lubrication and strengthen the vaginal lining. Because much less estrogen gets into your bloodstream, this option is generally considered safe, according to the North American Menopause Society. Your healthcare provider can help you decide if hormone treatments are right for you.
Get Reacquainted With Your Body
Breast cancer treatment can leave you feeling like you’re living in a stranger’s body. “A stark change like a mastectomy can leave women feeling separated from themselves,” says Dr. Cartagena. But every woman can get to know and accept her new body.
Reintroduce Yourself Gradually
“The process to reknow your body takes time and begins in small steps,” says Cartagena, who suggests a first step could be to get dressed in the morning with the lights on. After a few days or weeks of this, you might try spending 10 seconds observing your body in the mirror.
“Exposing yourself to your body little by little can allow you to gradually grieve what is different and take notice of what is new that is still important to you,” explains Cartagena.
Reframe Your Sexual Desires
Sex after cancer may look different, and mourning lost sensations is very important, says Cartagena. Looking forward, he encourages breast cancer survivors to study what sex means to them by asking questions like, “What feels good now?”
“If penetrative sex still evokes pain, a patient can explore foreplay, different forms of stimulation, or other forms of intimacy to induce different, fulfilling sensations,” says Cartegena. Sex doesn’t have to mean one thing — it can be whatever you need or want it to be.
Adults have sex at every age, so it follows that STDs can spread at every age. But my older patients who have new sexual partners are sometimes bewildered when I ask if they want to get screened.
It’s healthy to be sexually active as an older adult, and it correlates with greater enjoyment of life. My patients tell me that nursing homes can present really exciting opportunities to make new friends in this regard.
In fact, 40 percent of adults aged 65-80 are sexually active and about 10 percent of people older than 90 are sexually active, though it bears noting that the latter figure is based on a survey limited to one municipality in Sweden.
But STDs spare no one. Few people I’ve seen whose STD testing comes back positive were expecting that result. And from 2007 to 2017, STD cases more than doubled among adults age 65 and over.
That is why it is important to get screened and always use a condom. Condoms are infrequently utilized among older people, but they do reduce, yet not eliminate, risk of STDs.
Why are STD cases rising among older adults?
Researchers speculate STD cases are rising simply because older adults are having more sex than in generations past.
One factor at play is how people are meeting each other and forming relationships, including with web- or app-based dating services that are increasingly attracting older people.
The market for devices and medications that address sexual health problems is also flourishing — and not just for men. In the past several years, the Food and Drug Administration has approved more treatments aimed at postmenopausal women who may have trouble with sex due to vaginal dryness and pain.
This all may be impacting how often older adults have sex and subsequently get STDs. After the introduction of sildenafil — known by the brand name Viagra — in 1998, for example, the risk of STDs increased significantly among widowed men.
How do I know if I need STD screening?
The United States Preventive Services Task Force advises all women aged 24 and younger to get screened for gonorrhea and chlamydia regularly — and thereafter, when you have new sexual partners or other situations that increase risk. Everyone should be tested for HIV at least once. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends men who have sex with men to get screened at least once a year for syphilis, chlamydia, gonorrhea and HIV.
But there’s a lot of leeway among other groups, so much of STD screening is left to common sense.
Here’s my advice:
Got a new partner? I’d check.
Have multiple recent partners? Let’s definitely check.
Got a new partner who only had one prior long-term partner before you? You know me. If it were me, I’d check.
Found out your partner has been cheating? You know the drill (and I’m truly so sorry).
Just oral or anal sex? You can still get STDs. Shall we check?
In other words, if you’re even thinking about getting screened, just do it.
What STDs should I get screened for?
Chlamydia and gonorrhea are two classic STDs that have been rising among older adults in recent years. There were more than 2,000 cases of each among people 65 and older in 2017. Syphilis, while rarer, is also rising in this population, and in 2018, the majority of people diagnosed with HIV were age 50 and older.
There are also other conditions that get less attention, such as trichomoniasis and bacterial vaginosis (the latter is not quite considered an STD but is linked to sexual activity). Both can produce a distinctive “fishy” smelling discharge in women. Discuss which STDs to check for with your health-care provider since your personal history plays a role as well.
What STD symptoms should I look out for?
Sure, painful genital sores raise a red flag pretty quickly, but most people with STDs don’t actually have any symptoms. If you have symptoms like burning with urination, itching or unusual discharge, consider the possibility of an STD with your provider before immediately presuming it’s a urinary tract or yeast infection.
Also keep the following in mind:
Most people with a new HIV infection experience a brief flu-like illness about two to four weeks after exposure. Then they tend to feel perfectly normal for several years before their CD4 cells — important immune cells in your body destroyed by HIV — drop low enough to draw medical attention.
Chlamydia is known as a “silent infection” because as few as 5 percent of women and about 10 percent of men develop symptoms. Most men and women with gonorrhea are similarly asymptomatic.
The first stage of syphilis infection involves a painless round genital sore that can infect others who come into contact with it. These sores are often not as noticeable as you’d think (they may be inside a skin fold and can be as small as a few millimeters). Later, the latent stage of syphilis can last for years with absolutely no symptoms.
Who is at highest risk for STDs?
To be clear, cases of STDs among the elderly are going up, but they’re still much fewer than those among older teenagers and adults in their 20s. But everyone, regardless of age, should take precautions and test appropriately.
Age aside, men who have sex with men, users of intravenous drugs and people who have a prior history of another STD are all at higher risk. A study from Vanderbilt University, where I went to medical school, recently found what I had long observed as a student: Compared to other groups, Black women are losing the most years of life to HIV (and 91 percent of new HIV infections among Black women nationwide are reported from heterosexual contact).
There’s another striking discrepancy within the country: Southern states account for about half of new HIV cases annually. These states, not coincidentally, also have the highest rates of poverty nationally and tend to focus on abstinence-based sex education that has been shown to be ineffective in STD prevention.
What I want my patients to know
I never enjoy telling someone they have something like chlamydia. But I do like what I can say next, which is that most STDs can be fully cured with medication, and for those we can’t cure, like HIV, we have excellent medications to treat. You only stand to win by knowing.
— I have no moral objection to infidelity. For me, sex is just sex.
By Kate Bailey
He and I had been friends in graduate school in New Orleans for seven months when we had sex for the first time. He was engaged at the time to someone else who lived in a different state. It was Mardi Gras, and the attraction he and I had for each other, combined with multiple beers, had exploded into consensual and sloppy intercourse.
Our mutual attraction had been evident for a while. Before Thanksgiving, we had walked along Lake Pontchartrain near my apartment and delicately talked around the issue. I took a submissive position; someone else had gotten to him first and there was nothing I could do about that. I would not try to break up his relationship.
But I told him as straightforwardly as I could that I had no moral objection to infidelity. That was the only way I could think to phrase it. Sex was just sex. I was basically communicating that if he wanted to have sex with me, I was going to enthusiastically approve.
I quickly mentioned that what did matter to me was his ability to take care of two women’s feelings at the same time. He looked down at his boots and said that he probably wouldn’t be able to do that.
Wrong answer, I thought.
But our attraction was so intense that we ignored the potential problems. We were already ignoring the fact that he was leaving the next day to go meet his fiancée. I reiterated my point about taking care of two women’s feelings, hoping he would understand it better and retroactively concur. Instead, he took it as me concluding that we should keep our pants on, and he closed the discussion.
“We shouldn’t,” he said.
Using the word “shouldn’t” instead of “can’t” or “won’t” only made our copulation seem more inevitable.
A few days after our Mardi Gras sex, he said he didn’t regret it but that we couldn’t do it again. Over the following two years we had sex sporadically, and unethically, in that his fiancée didn’t know about it. Each time, he would inform me a few days after that we shouldn’t do it again.
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None of this made sense to me. We enjoyed doing it — why the constant back and forth? I never expected him to leave his fiancée, but I did expect a certain amount of corroboration about reality.
This scenario also had me constantly questioning myself. Why didn’t I have any objection to infidelity? Why did it feel so natural sharing a man with another woman? Why did monogamy feel like the wrong option?
He and his fiancée never got married. I moved away. But we stayed close. It’s been almost a decade since graduate school, and he and I have not lived in the same state since. He has a partner and a family. I have a budding career in television and a busy social life. The last time we had sex was five years ago. (Ethically, that time!)
A while back, I texted him to see if he wanted to chat on the phone. I love talking on the phone and ask for it often. It was Monday. He said he was visiting his ill father but could do Friday. I agreed, but come Friday, he forgot. The business of travel and baby-needs and parental role-reversal had pushed me to the back of his mind. A lapse in care happens in all types of relationships. Someone’s feelings get hurt because there was a plan and someone else forgot. It’s normal.
But in these moments, with us, the level of effort needed to fix it can become confusing for the monogamist. If this scenario had happened with a wife, maybe there would be a short fight, followed by Uber Eats and a “Below Deck” binge. If this scenario had happened with a girlfriend, then perhaps flowers would be best to soothe the hurt. If it was with a friend, maybe just a recommitment to plans and a promise not to forget again.
But when he and I have a conflict or a disagreement, we can sometimes get jammed up trying to resolve it. Because I don’t use labels, and because he doesn’t know how to label me, it becomes easy for him to regress to a familiar scenario: I’m the side piece and he’s the unavailable object of my desire.
This impulse normally only lasts a moment while we untangle what it is we’re stuck on. And I don’t hold it against him. It’s hard to have a relationship with someone like me who doesn’t dress up her partners as recognizable personas. The anarchy makes people uncomfortable.
To me, all relationships are like those paper dolls we had as children. The figures are in their underwear and then you put different clothes on them for different occasions. The base level is the figure laid bare. The base level is vulnerability and intimacy. It doesn’t matter how you dress it up — mistress, relative, friend, girlfriend, husband, lover — the base stays the same. And if the base is good, it’s easy to understand how someone can start off in one set of clothes and end up in another. Some time ago, I just stopped using the clothes to label my relationships.
On the day he forgot to call me, he immediately apologized. When I told him my feelings were hurt, he speculated that it’s probably because I’m not satisfied with what he’s giving me.
Which took me back to that day at Lake Pontchartrain, wondering again if he, or anyone, can take care of two people’s feelings simultaneously.
So, I really considered it.
Is it possible that, in this case, his assessment was right? Is satisfaction a security that I don’t allow myself by living my life this way?
For most people, monogamy means that to have an intimate relationship with a different person, you must end the current relationship before you can start another. One at a time, that’s the rule.
He has had three long-term partners since I have known him. If I had to wait until he had no other partner, we would have missed out on this relationship, which is 90 percent TV jokes and “Mad Men” quotes. We never would have the pride it brings each of us when we make the other laugh out loud. Or argue about a movie one of us hates and the other adores. Or the gossip we share about people we know in theater.
He has listened to me cry about my career, which I never do with anyone else. I have talked him through his body insecurities and am able to successfully assure him that he’s still attractive. We push each other in our creative ambitions. I send him details of celebrity encounters, and he keeps me full of baby pictures.
And we fight. I make biting comments that are sometimes too sharp. He doesn’t text enough. He’s avoidant. I’m prickly, and bratty. He’s envious. I say the wrong thing. I brag too much. He’s neurotic. Actually, we’re both neurotic.
In other words, a regular relationship.
After considering his comment, I arrived back to where I normally live. I am no more satisfied and no less satisfied than I would be if I followed a more traditional relationship model. Dressing the doll up might make things more comfortable at times, but it wouldn’t be true to our experience. And if the price we must pay is occasionally having to think hard about it to make sure it’s still working — well, I’m willing to pay that small price.
I haven’t believed in monogamy since the grad school experience with him. It sent me down a path that has informed my life ever since. It means that I never think about romantic relationships in an aspirational way. It means that I get to keep my relationships with men and women for a long time, after the sex has dwindled, or as the connection morphs in and out of romance. It means that I get more than “just being friends with an ex.” It means the intimacy that I have with others blooms in a natural way.
I enjoy having diverse relationships, because that is the reality for so many people, even when they have no words to explain them. Many of those who are unconventional don’t have anyone to look to for answers. As a relationship anarchist, I have a responsibility to reflect unconventional truths and challenge social norms. It’s difficult to question relationship models that have been in our society for centuries, but if we don’t start talking about it openly, it will never get easier.
I’m a non-monogamous woman in many different relationships. He and I are still partners in life. Just not the way that most people understand partners, or life.
Do me a favor and picture this: You’re in a cage on your bedroom floor. Your (super sexy) partner is wearing the most kickass thigh-high leather boots. She’s on the bed. With another man. Having the time of her life. You are LOVING it.
Does the idea of watching someone get it on with your partner in front of you get you so horned up you feel like you’re about to explode? Or maybe the roles are reversed—maybe you’re the impossibly hot one in the thigh-highs (although sexy footwear is optional) totally getting off on the power trip of hooking up with someone else in front of your adoring partner. Either way, it’s time to talk about cuckolding, my friends.
Back in the day—we’re talking way back, like, Shakespeare times—cuckold was an old-school term referring to a man whose wife had sex with other men without his knowledge, making him look like a fool. The word gets its name from the cuckoo bird, known for its tricky habit of laying its eggs in the nests of other birds. “The cuckoo’s chicks consume the resources of the other birds and deprive that other birds’ chick of food,” explains psychologist David Ley, PhD, author of Insatiable Wives. “Naturalists believed this was what potentially happened when a wife cheated on her husband—the cuckolded husband would then end up investing his resources in the caring of children not genetically related to him.” Men portrayed as cuckolds are found throughout folklore and literature, particularly in the work of the aforementioned Mr. Shakespeare, the perennial pervy playwright.
While these early depictions have clear negative implications—and while the term “cuck” is still used as a slur in some (rather controversial) circles today—modern “cuckolding” as a consensual sex practice in the kink and ethically non-monogamous communities is all in good kinky fun. Basically, consensual cuckolding is when a man’s wife has sex with another man—usually in front of him—and everyone involved is 100 percent on board with it. (It’s worth noting that while the husband/wife dynamic is traditional to this practice, folks of all genders and relationship styles can partake of this kink—more on that later!) Instead of one partner (traditionally the wife or female one, but not always) engaging in secret, non-consensual infidelity, a modern cuckolding scenario involves the full support and encouragement of an equally excited partner who’s actively into the idea of their person being sexual with others, Ley says. You simply love to see it.
Feeling intrigued? Horny? Confused? Don’t you worry. From the basics of cuckolding scenes, to why it gets people so hot and bothered, to how you can try it for yourself (if you dare!), we’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted to know about cuckolding right here.
Okay, So What Is Cuckolding?
In its most basic form, cuckolding is when a man watches his wife have sex with another man, often in front of him. “One could think of cuckolding as fetishized infidelity or adultery,” says Celina Criss, PhD, a certified sex coach specializing in BDSM. While cuckolding may seem like it would be strictly heteronormative given its roots, it can take place in any relationship dynamic, with people of any gender.
The three main roles in a cuckolding scenario are as follows:
The Wife/Hotwife: The (usually) female partner who has sex with the other man/person. The “wife” is sometimes referred to as the “Hotwife” in certain contexts and scenarios.
The Bull: The outside person (usually a cis-man) who has sex with the wife/hotwife.
The Cuck: The man/person who watches his partner have sex with the bull.
Crucially: Everyone involved in a cuckolding scene is a consenting adult. Scenes are highly negotiated and everyone involved is completely into it. Which brings us to…
Why Are People Into Cuckolding?
Kinksters who are horny for this tres risqué kind of play may be into cuckolding for a whole (very) hot mess of reasons. What can we say? Human sexuality is a complex and wonderful thing. Here are some of the main aspects of cuck play that may be appealing to those who practice it.
1. Power Dynamics
The core of kink play lies in the Dom/sub dynamic and the power play that comes with it. When we’re talking about cuckolding, the cuck is often submitting to the hotwife and/or bull.
2. Humiliation Play
his kind of play often involves an element of intentional humiliation in the form of verbal insults or degradation from the bull and/or wife. “The cuckold, or ‘cuck,’ is verbally belittled by the bull and made to seem inferior and ‘beta,’” explains Cosmo’s ‘Navigating Non-Monogamy’ columnist Zachary Zane, author of Boyslut: A Memoir and Manifesto and sex expert for Fun Factory. “A bull may talk about how much bigger his dick is or how much better at sex he is than the ‘pathetic’ husband.” It’s all about creating the fantasy that the bull is a much better lover than the cuck, for the cuck’s enjoyment.
3. Partner Sharing
While these scenes often tap into an element of humiliation or submission, these aspects aren’t always inherent to cuckolding. Sometimes the cuck simply enjoys “sharing his wife’s extraordinary sexuality with other men,” says Ley. “These relationships are sometimes called hotwifing, or stag/vixen relationships.” This is where the ‘wife’ role turns into the ‘hotwife’ role. Rather than getting off on being humiliated by his wife or submitting to another man, the cuck is like: Look how HOT my wife is! You should definitely bang her! Get it?
“You’re essentially getting a live show! You get to watch someone having sex, which is just hot,” Zane says. A cuck with a voyeuristic streak may enjoy watching his partner sexually engage with another person, and their exhibitionist partner may enjoy being watched in the act.
The cuck may be placed inside of a cage, tied up, or made to wear various fetish gear (such as a cock/chastity cage or latex clothing), depending on the scene. The bull and wife may also wear fetish gear as a part of the scene.
6. Sexual Novelty
For the “wife,” it can be exciting to have sex with someone new. Ley says this can be especially true for women with high libidos, who may enjoy having varied sexual encounters.
Plus, you’re literally the star of the show. “The hotwife [feels] desired by both the bull and the cuck. It’s fun being the center of attention,” Zane adds.
Cuckolding vs. an Open Relationship: What’s the Difference?
Open relationships are simply when all parties are able to have sex with people outside of their primary relationship. Zane says that cuckolding is a specific kink that may (and can only) occur within the context of an open relationship, as it involves getting busy with people outside of a committed partnership. The main difference is that while partners in a consensually non-monogamous relationship may sleep with folks outside of that relationship, for those who practice cuckolding, one partner sleeping with someone else is an act of kink play in and of itself—one that actively involves all three parties. Ley adds that cuckolding often focuses more on the sexual activity of the wife, rather than the cuck. The cuck is often monogamous to the wife—or sometimes bisexual, engaging in sexual activity with the men who sleep with his wife.
Criss says that cuckolding scenes are less like consensual non-monogamy and instead are more in-line with CNC (consensual non-consent), in that the power dynamics of this kind of play are intended to mimic non-consensual infidelity. Essentially, the scene is made to look like the man doesn’t want his wife to have sex with someone else, but in reality, he totally does.
“In this case, the cuckold (husband) is excited about his hotwife (wife) having sexual encounters with another partner outside of the traditional marriage commitment,” Criss says. “Consensual non-consent may be involved in terms of the hotwife’s selection of partner, timing, or place.”
5 Ways to Try Cuckolding (If This Is Something That Gets You Going)
1. Do Your Research
First, learn literally everything you can about cuckolding before trying it. Ley suggests reading his book, Insatiable Wives: Women Who Stray and The Men Who Love Them, with your partner. This book deeply explores the ins and outs of cuckolding and open relationships. It’s a must-read for anyone looking to dive into this kind of play.
2. Start With Fantasy
Starting slow is a must, must, must! Jumping into a cuckolding scenario without proper planning is a recipe for disaster.
Instead, try manifesting the scene in your head and/or dirty-talking about it with your partner. This will give you a chance to try on the fantasy in a safe and contained way. You can watch some cuckolding-style porn, read erotica, or even role play. Zane suggests trying the following: Have the hotwife talk about past sexual experiences she’s had with a dominant man. The hotwife can humiliate the cuck by talking about how pathetic he is and how she wishes she was having sex with a more dominant and virile man.
3. Set Expectations and Boundaries
Before you try a cuck scene, everything needs to be thoroughly discussed in detail. You need to think about what sexual acts are on the table, how you want the scene to play out, and what kind of language is acceptable. Criss says that when it comes to scenes with humiliation, you have to be really mindful and intentional of boundaries. Awareness is key. When it comes to doing these scenes in real life, Zane says that “there should be no surprises.” Stick to the script, folks.
4. Have a Safe Word
A safe word is your golden ticket in kink scenes. You may think a cuck scene is going to be the hottest thing in the entire world and then once it happens, it might turn out to be not at all what you pictured.
“We can’t predict how sexual experiences are going to make us feel, no matter how hard we may try,” Zane says. “That’s why you can stop the scene at any point using the safe word.”
While it may feel awkward to pull a boundary mid-scene, it is SO important to speak up if you’re not feeling comfortable. “If someone does use the safe word, you don’t need to explain yourself,” Zane tells us. “You can just say that you’re really not enjoying the scene the way you had hoped.”
’Nough said.
5. Be Respectful of Everyone Involved
Just like in any group sex situation, the feelings, boundaries, and needs of every single person in the scene should be taken into consideration.
And this is not just for the primary couple. This respect also needs to be extended to the bull, too. Criss says that even if this is a one-time experience, the third party is still a human being and they need to be treated as such. Everyone deserves to have the scene happen in a way that feels sexy, safe, and authentic for them.
When done with intention and care, a cuckolding scene can be very spicy and enjoyable for one and all. Remember: Don’t yuck anyone else’s yum. Everyone deserves to have the amazing, creative, and wild sexual experiences they desire—without judgment.
A decade ago, as the sex educator Emily Nagoski was researching and writing her first book, “Come as You Are” — a soon-to-be best seller exploring the science of women’s sexuality — she and her husband stopped having sex.
Nagoski began appearing everywhere, reassuring women that their sexuality was not a problem that needed to be solved or treated. She talked to the author Glennon Doyle and her wife, the soccer player Abby Wambach, about body image and shame on their podcast. She published a workbook to help women better understand their sexual temperament and sexual cues. Her TED Talks have been viewed millions of times.
But at home, she and her husband, Rich Stevens — a cartoonist whom she met on the dating site OkCupid in 2011 — were cycling in and out of monthslong sexual dry spells stemming from work stress and health problems. When I spoke to Nagoski at her cozy house in Easthampton, Mass., in the fall, and then again over the phone in January, she declined to offer specifics on just how long their droughts lasted. (She did not want people to compare themselves.) But she did not hold back about how they made her feel.
“Stressed. Depressed. Anxious. Lonely. Self-critical,” Nagoski, 46, said. “Like, how can I be an ‘expert’ — and I say that with heavy, heavy air quotes — and still be struggling in this way?”
After all, Nagoski had written the book on women and desire. She popularized the metaphor of the sexual response system as a car with an accelerator (that notices erotic stimuli) and brakes (that notice all of the reasons not to have sex. Like chores. Or a new baby. Or, just, patriarchy). When women struggle with arousal and pleasure, she explained in “Come as You Are,” it isn’t because the accelerator isn’t being stimulated; it’s usually because the brakes are being pushed too hard. Her talent was not for producing original research — this dual control model of sexual response, for instance, is not her idea — but she had a knack for sifting through the science to uncover what she believed to be most relevant to women’s day-to-day lives, and finding simple ways to describe it.
“She often reminds people that they are whole, they are not broken,” said Debby Herbenick, the director of the Center for Sexual Health Promotion at the Indiana University School of Public Health, who went to graduate school with Nagoski.
However, Nagoski’s own fractured sex life left her full of self-doubt.
“I did my best to do what I tell other people to do, which is to turn toward what was happening with kindness and compassion,” she said, recognizing how cloying that advice can sound. “I tried to give myself permission to allow these things to be true. To recognize they would not always be true. And that I would move through this spell with more ease if I did not beat myself up.”
Like a true self-proclaimed “sex nerd,” Nagoski also dug into the science of what great sex looks like in a long-term relationship and how to cope when problems arise, which became the backbone of her new book, “Come Together: The Science (and Art!) of Creating Lasting Sexual Connections,” out later this month. At nearly 300 pages, with two appendices and 22 pages of notes and scientific references, it’s the product of an academic who loves data. But Nagoski, who earned a doctorate in health behavior and a master’s degree in counseling from Indiana University, is happy to give up what she thinks are the three secrets of partners with happy sex lives in the book’s introduction: 1. They are friends. 2. They prioritize sex. 3. They ignore outside opinions about what sex should look like and do what works for them.
“When I got done,” she said, “I had this whole book’s worth of advice we used to fight our way back to each other.”
The sex educator Emily Nagoski and her husband, Rich Stevens, established new rules to help their sex life flourish. One of them: Keep the dogs out of the bedroom during intimate moments.
‘Pleasure is the measure’
Nagoski believes that most people are hung up on the wrong metrics when it comes to sex. It isn’t about novelty or orgasms, nor is it about frequency. “People always want to know: How often does a typical couple have sex?” she said, sitting on her living room couch next to Stevens, 47, while one of their two rescue dogs, Thunder, napped between them. “Which is not a question that I answer, because it’s impossible to hear a number and not compare yourself to it.” (Also, she added, people seldom talk about the quality of said sex.)
Most of us are too fixated on libido — or on wanting to want to have sex — she said, which has caused a lot of unnecessary stress and insecurity. “Desire is the No. 1 reason people of all gender combinations seek sex therapy,” she said. “Even I need to be reminded that it’s not about desire. It’s about pleasure.”
It’s a somewhat surprising take from someone who has spent a lot of the past decade helping women better understand how desire actually works, banging the drum about the difference between spontaneous desire (the feeling of wanting sex out of the blue) and responsive desire (which arises in response to erotic stimuli). In other words, there’s nothing unsexy about planning or scheduling sex.
Nagoski has been a sex educator since the mid-90s. She worked for eight years as the director of wellness education at Smith College, before making the switch to writing and speaking full time in 2016. She has also built a brand that now includes a podcast, a newsletter with more than 30,000 subscribers and a growing social media presence, where she sometimes posts with a look-alike puppet named Nagoggles.
Much of what Nagoski preaches, she said, is a transformation of how most of us have been taught sex is supposed to work — that it is always pleasurable and easy.
“Pleasure only happens under really specific circumstances, and the 21st-century, postindustrial world doesn’t naturally create those circumstances very often,” she said. “We are all overwhelmed, exhausted, stressed. Like, of course you have to put effort into transitioning out of your everyday state of mind into a sexy state of mind.”
But in “Come Together,” Nagoski is arguing that desire is almost beside the point. “Center pleasure, because great sex over the long term is not about how much you want sex,” she writes, “it’s about how much you like the sex you’re having.”
Put more succinctly: “Pleasure is the measure.”
This concept may seem obvious to some, and Nagoski isn’t saying anything sex researchers don’t know. But Rosalyn Dischiavo, president of the American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists, who described Nagoski as both “delightfully geeky” and a “rock star” in the field, called it a “radical truth.”
“As sex educators, one of the most beautiful parts of our job — and one of the most frustrating parts of our job — is to ring that bell over and over and over again to wake people up and say, ‘Pleasure is good,’” she said. “‘Pleasure is healing.’”
Nagoski sometimes posts on social media using a look-alike puppet, Nagoggles
Taking her own advice
Nagoski knows that telling couples to “just access pleasure together” is easier said than done. For most people, herself included, a long list of things can hit their sexual brakes. In the past several years, she has dealt with perimenopause, a back injury, and then long Covid, which has caused severe vascular problems. For months, Nagoski could barely walk to her mailbox. And she is still healing.
In 2021, Nagoski was diagnosed with autism, after her therapist noted she was unusually relieved not to have to see or talk to others during the height of the pandemic. Around that time, she watched the Pixar short “Loop,” in which two teens, one of whom has autism and is nonverbal, learn to communicate on a canoe ride. “It’s just this six-minute, animated thing,” she said, as she teared up. Watching it, she realized, “I’m autistic.”
The diagnosis, Nagoski said, was an “enormous relief.” People on the autism spectrum are sometimes blunt and unfiltered, and the diagnosis helped to explain why she might be so good at what she does. “I think one of the reasons talking about sex is so easy for me is that I have not absorbed the same ‘shoulds’ in the same way,” she said.
“Come Together” is the first time Nagoski has publicly opened up about her sex life, a decision she initially felt ambivalent about. “Before I wrote the book, I wondered if revealing, like, ‘I, too, have struggled with desire in a long-term relationship’ would undercut my expertise.”
When asked what she and her partner did to move through their dry spells, Nagoski distilled it to this: First, she spent a lot of time talking to her therapist (whom she has seen for years) about how to speak to her husband about their issues in a way that felt loving and not accusatory. Next, before they tried initiating anything physical, the couple spent a lot of time talking about sex. Nagoski realized it was important to let Stevens be silly about their situation, she said. (Their inside jokes about his genitals can’t be repeated here.) It brought some levity to their conversations and helped them to realize how important playfulness is to their dynamic in the bedroom.
Last, she asked her husband to be more affectionate with her outside of sexual situations. Their sex life is hardly perfect now, though if she were not recovering from long Covid, Nagoski said, she would describe it as better than it has ever been.
They made small changes, too. The couple began closing the bedroom door so their dogs — who “want to be up on the bed with us,” Nagoski said — couldn’t interrupt sex. They also moved any intimate supplies they needed closer to the bed. The two were trying to eliminate every possible barrier and inconvenience.
But there are risks, Nagoski acknowledged, when couples start having conversations about what is not working in their sex lives. “None of us want to hurt our partner’s feelings,” she said. If a couple cannot navigate those talks on their own, or even bring themselves to start them, then, “yeah, therapy,” she said.
“It’s hard work,” she said of keeping sex going in a long-term relationship. “And you have to care. It isn’t necessary for survival. It’s not even necessary to have a spectacular life. I don’t require anyone on Earth to make any kind of change to their sex life if they don’t want to.”
But Nagoski said for her, “it’s a priority.” The couple now sees sex as a “project” they work on together, making time for it in their calendar.
“We talk about it more than we talk about what we’re going to have for dinner. I alter my schedule so that I don’t have anything that’s going to wipe me out so much that on our calendar day, I’m not going to have any energy left,” Nagoski said. She tries to give herself grace when it does not happen, like when she recently canceled a scheduled sex date because of a migraine.
“What matters,” she said, “is that you’re cocreating a context that makes it easy to access pleasure.”
It’s somehow already the middle of January, when we’re all totally exhausted by the premise that we need to eat, exercise, clean, or otherwise behave more virtuously all goddamn year long. As you think about what you want for the months ahead, keep in mind: Spending an hour decluttering your closet might make you feel good—but so would having an orgasm.
Maybe you’re ready to reassess your sex life, but you’re not sure where to start. I get it—lots can happen to snarl up your feelings around boning. It’s easy to become complacent about—or, worse, resigned to—the sex you’re accustomed to having (or not), or how you get off by yourself. If things are great, or you’re just pretty sure you know what your whole sexual deal is, that’s also an excellent foundation for recommitting to more raunchy, transformative, and romantic sex.
Maintain a spirit of openness and you can’t lose. If you try something new and it doesn’t suit or thrill you? That’s also good information about getting closer to sex that does. Here are 24 low-stakes, high-reward ideas about how to have a filthy, sweet, and incontrovertibly hot year.
1. Write down the details of exceptional hookups right after you have them.
Even if you swear you’ll remember every iota of a perfect encounter, stuff slips away—unless you jot it down. I just referred to the notes I took after a particularly world-redefining fuck, and it reminded me what he smelled like, how we touched for the first time before touching everywhere (my feet were tucked under his legs, and he rested a hand on my thigh), and precisely how he *** my **** while he ****** *** ****. Give your future self a gift that you can touch yourself to. Rereading these back is also a mollifying reminder of what’s possible when things aren’t quite as electric.
2. Think through a sexual Year in Review.
You can also expand on the above concept to broadly take stock of what you want more of—and way less of. Look back at 2023: What was outstanding—figuring out that you’re most into morning sex; buying a harness that fits you well; hooking up with a best friend and staying best friends? What was boring or unpleasant—getting felt up at a drive-in theater (good in theory, but you just nervously looked over your shoulder the whole time); feeling chafed in a garter belt; learning the hard way that the whole morning sex thing is only true if all parties brush their teeth first? Write that down, too, and use it to guide your future hookups.
3. Wear underwear that makes you feel like gold.
Replace anything with holes in it or that’s otherwise exhausted. Don’t settle for serviceable-enough briefs that only kinda affirm your gender. Get matching lingerie sets on sale! If you’ve been waiting around for someone to come along and forcibly teach you your correct bra size: It was only ever going to be you, and it’s time. Explore what’s unusual to you, like thigh-high stockings, a binder, or a lace teddy (and remember that fragrance can be an underthing too). Whether or not anyone else sees what’s under your sweater, you’ll know, and you’ll carry yourself a little differently.
4. Reevaluate your lube situation—and use it for more than just penetration.
If you’re familiar with lube insofar as it comes pre-applied on condoms, or you reach for a bottle only to cram things into holes: Your life is about to know new meaning. Lube can help clits feel less pinchingly sensitive when they’re touched for a long time, quickly, or intensely. On penises, wetter is often better, especially when you’re jerking off (or jerking someone else off). There are three main kinds of lube: oil-, water-, and silicone-based. Start with a water-based one—they can be used with silicone toys and prophylactics and are least likely to interact weirdly with your body or strap-on. (I like Überlube and straight-up Astroglide.) Use a LOT of it next time you masturbate or touch someone else. Reapply every few minutes, since lube absorbs into skin and water-based ones can feel sticky as the moisture in them evaporates. Keep a hand towel by the bed. Come so hard.
5. Trim and clean your nails, no matter what you’re doing with your hands.
This isn’t just a concern for fingering vaginas—and nor was it ever! Please, let’s right this grievous wrong. If you’re touching someone else’s body anywhere, don’t do it with gunk in your cuticles or a ragged fingernail. If you’re femme and allergic to even the thought of forgoing a complicated manicure, scrub under your nails religiously before you put them on or in someone, and be so careful and gentle when you do. Wear latex gloves if you’re putting your acrylics or beautiful natural nails (lucky—can’t relate) into someone’s ass. The tissue inside the anus is delicate and prone to tiny tears, so it’s not the best environment in which to poke your glamorous talons around.
6. Build a stockpile of hot nudes or lewds.
Sending racy photos while maintaining the rhythm of a conversation doesn’t have to mean ducking into a work bathroom stall, rushing off the couch to strip out of your mom’s old Phish T-shirt, or whatever other last-minute adjustment you’d otherwise need to make. Whenever you’re having a particularly good hair or ass day, take commemorative photos, then put them in a private folder for future use. Yeah, keep that Phish shirt on, baby—that’s what I like (your sustained comfort as you turn someone on).
7. Flirt elegantly.
It’s 2024, we’re grown, and we can choose to be sophisticated—even with long-term partners who have seen us throw up a milkshake. Behave like a heartthrob seducing someone in a movie. Text or call just to say you’re thinking about someone. Give them little gifts (they don’t have to be expensive—a perfect piece of fruit or a sleek pen from the bookstore will do). Be ever so slightly suggestive outside of strictly sexual contexts (a good level is mentioning when you’re thinking about making out with them). This works wonders for building anticipation around sex, creating an overall mood where sex is present in your lives together, and ultimately contributing to a closer connection when you do finally get around to fucking.
8. Do lite role-play with clothes you already own.
Got a leotard, bodysuit, or pair of gym shorts? Great, you’re exercising and your partner is a personal trainer expertly adjusting your form. Put on a plaid skirt or blazer, because class is in session and you’re desperate to make the grade…! Wear a suit—you’re the boss. You don’t have to go full Method within these roles, unless you’re into that. Just say, “If you were my X and I were your Y, what would you do to me?” You can even skip the acting piece of this altogether by dressing up in an outfit you wear very rarely—a ball gown, a low-cut jumpsuit—and letting the other person’s imagination do the work for you.
9. Loosen up.
Stop fixating on how your stomach looks when the overhead light is on (who invented this? I’d love a word). Feel free to stumble—who among us hasn’t said something like, “I need you to suck your dick…uh, my dick” in the moment? When you’re nervous or something funny happens: Joke, talk, laugh, nibble, and goofily bury your head in someone’s shoulder. This often helps sex feel even more connective, permissive, and judgment-free. Be judicious about how often you’re yukking it up, though, and always observe whether it’s just you doing it—you don’t want your partner to think you’re laughing at them, especially if you’re in the middle of anything un-vanilla or new.
10. Ask your partner to touch you all over while you’re boning.
Get a massagewhile you’re getting laid, and have the person giving it to you cover as many areas of your body as they can/you’re down with, at varying levels of pressure. The idea is to feel everything as precisely but universally as possible, whether your partner is trailing their fingernails down your forearm or pressing their knuckles desperately into your shoulder blades with you on top. It’s extremely dreamy to have sex that happens to you in many places at once.
11. Don’t rush.
Make out slowly without lunging right for other parts of someone’s body. Don’t default to what you know makes you, or your partner, come really fast. Try edging or taking breaks from the action to delay orgasms and draw things waaaaaay out. Go legato: Relish each feeling—their fingertips on the back of your neck, the very first few seconds of penetration, or the pressure they’re using as they kiss you—as it unfolds. In “wellness culture” this is called mindfulness, but I just call it being good in bed.
12. A secret of oral sex: How it looks contributes massively to how it feels.
Tell your partner what would be especially hot to watch while they’re going down on you, and find out the same about them. Some general ideas for you: Kiss and lick, and as you do, look up into their eyes either very softly or very hard. Take their hand while you use your other one somewhere else that feels good for them. Angle yourself so they can see plenty of your smoking-ass physique. Pretend someone is filming you. If it feels performative? Great, that’s a sign you’re nailing this.
13. Find your personal definition of “incredible anal sex.”
If you’re not down or able to have full-on penetrative anal (though: never say never!), delve into rimjobs or other strategies for making your ass feel incredible from the outside. If you’re more like, “Look, I’ve been getting fisted, sister,” maybe your next course of action involves anal beads or a new butt plug. Always use toys with flared bases if you’re planning on inserting them—your sphincter has powerful suction mechanisms, and you don’t want your new year of vibrantly experimental sex sullied by a dildo stuck inside you.
14. Experiment with prostate stimulation.
Prostates (or P-spots), for people with penises, can take some effort to find, but putting that work in can yield pleasure in the extreme. To find your or your partner’s prostate, make a come-hither motion with your index finger inside the anus, towards the stomach, or use a toy designed to reach it. Pair prostate exploration with handjobs or blowjobs to make it feel particularly blissful.
15. Observe a sexual opposite day.
You can do this alone or trade assignments with a partner—the idea is to break free of what you think “you’re like” and try something entirely new. If you’re a super-dominant megafox, let someone else lead. If you’re a goofball, be intense, filthy, and direct. The obvious, time-tested convention here instructs bottoms to top, and vice vers-a. Even if a given role isn’t ultimately one you want to step into again, it’s nice to know that firsthand: You’ll understand your taste better and see how something feels for partners who do like whatever you’re playing at. You can call on all that intel in the future.
16. If your partner is driving you wild, make that extremely clear.
Most people love overt recognition of what’s so magnetic and sexy about them. Don’t be coy about it—go full Pepé Le Pew. You can say stuff like, “I love how soft your skin is,” or, “You know exactly how to touch me,” or, “I think about your [perfect body part or especially expert technique] when I masturbate,” or simply, “I could kiss you/look at you/fuck you all night.” Life’s short: Be unerringly passionate, a too-rare quality that you’ll likely be rewarded for. (I also just never feel more confident than when I decide to be deliberate and bold about my feelings.)
17. Demonstrate how you get off.
If you’re together, have them watch you touch yourself or use a toy; then, if you want, teach them by way of example—apply the concept “show, don’t tell” to your masturbation techniques. If you’re apart, make a voice note explaining what you’re doing and how it makes you feel, or, if you trust the recipient and are down to try it, record a video. (If you’re on the fence, just do it in person or talk through it on the phone—this shouldn’t feel stressful.) Each option is foxy—yet educational!—in its own right.
18. Clean your sex toys after each use.
Okay, I know we forswore boring cleaning talk and housekeeping mandates in favor of sin-sational xxx-ploration, but you must use clean sex toys. If you groan at the idea of fully disinfecting your vibrator after each and every time it comes into play, I get that, but it’s a small price to pay for not getting a yeast infection because you were both horny and lazy. Here’s a guide to cleaning whatever kind of sex toy you’re using. And definitely refresh your toys between partners and holes. Other situations that non-negotiably call for sterilized accessories: Using the same toy on more than one partner and using the same one on multiple orifices, even with the same person. Body-safe toy-cleaning wipes can be a godsend for cleaning on the fly in the heat of the moment. Keep the contents of your nightstand pristine so you can do every filthy thing on your mind with gusto.
19. If you’ve fantasized about having threesomes or more-somes, look into making it happen.
If you’re with someone monogamously, talk to them about your fantasies outside of a sexual context, when you’re both feeling relaxed. See how your partner feels about opening things up without expectation or judgment, and if they’re also into the idea, ask how that might unfold in a way they felt secure in and turned on by. You don’t need to be in a relationship to enjoy the splendors of group sex—there are plenty of people looking for thirds or additional partners. If you decide to go for it, you can browse a threesome-centric app like Feeld to get a sense of who’s out there and, if you’re intrigued, say hey.
20. Work with your body as it is, not as it “should” be.
It’s so much harder to feel great in bed if you don’t feel physically comfortable to begin with. Does sitting on someone’s face hurt your knees? Lie on your back—or sit on your dresser and have them kneel in front of you! Do you have recurrent UTIs that you’re just hoping will dissipate without intervention? Talk to a doctor about it—you don’t have to live this way! Is menopause making your vagina dry and irritated? Get to moisturizing! Put a pillow under your knees or neck to alleviate pain and pressure on your joints. Look into a prescription for ED medication. Whatever your body is trying to tell you, listen.
21. Be proactive about safer sex.
STI rates have been rising recently, so you owe it to yourself and anyone you’re fucking to get tested regularly. If you’re having sex with one monogamous, long-term partner, get a basic screening once a year. If you’re having sex with new or a few people, even if you’re using barrier methods like condoms, go annually at minimum, and ideally more like every three to six months. If you do have an STI, ask a doctor to help you think through effective safer sex tactics, and be ready to start candid, informed conversations about those options before you bone a newcomer. Keep a cool head about all of this: Most STIs can be treated! Some can even be cured. None will ruin your sex life forever unless you decide it should.
22. Pick atmospheric music in advance.
It’s annoying to pause a hookup because your playlist suddenly veered into songs that are too brash, techno-y, bubbly, or sad. (Or all of those at once: I don’t want to hook up to a Lady Gaga album outside of a gay bar EVER again. This should never happen in the home.) Have your sonic ducks in a row, whether that means making a sex playlist or having a few albums ready to go. Just don’t get lube on your records as you flip sides. (If you’re looking for ideas: This doesn’t have to only be Prince, although many would argue it should be—especially the deluxe Purple Rain with all those heartfelt demos. Or cue up romantic ambient-ish albums and piano solos.)
23. Visit a sex toy store, even just to browse.
Either by yourself or with a partner, stop by your local sex store to see whether anything piques your interest. Ideally, look for places that state outright on their websites or signage that they’re inclusive and sex-positive, particularly if you want to ask the staff questions. If you don’t live near a physical store, there are endless options online—I like Babeland and Lovehoney. Maybe you’ll buy something, or not—but you will very likely leave brimming with lurid new ideas.
24. Go ahead with any new-to-you venture when you’re actually ready.
Though I wish it were otherwise the case, you won’t always feel up for prioritizing freewheeling yet sensuous expressions of sexual innovation and liberty. Sometimes you’ll be sick, or feel terrible about yourself, or go through an unmooring life change, and you’ll be a little uncertain about your sexual place in the world. You don’t have to force yourself to pull off your grand sexual aspirations unless you’re actually going to enjoy them. It’s okay to go through fallow periods, and to wait them out with acceptance and self-understanding. After all, thoughtful patience is also the main force behind having multiple orgasms.
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