Month: October 2021

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Why don’t we talk about high female sex drives in relationships?

by Jasmine Wallis

It’s time for a role reversal.

The other week one of my friends jumped into my DMs.

“I keep having sex dreams because I’m so horny.”

She was venting to me, frustrated at her long-term male partner for not wanting sex as much as she did.

“It’s so annoying because I don’t want to force him or make him feel guilty.”

As a society, we often talk about the peer pressure that cis-women feel when it comes to heterosexual sex. Putting out as a teen before you’re ready so you don’t get dumped, the all too common complaints of “blue balls”. But what happens when the roles are reversed? Why do some women feel guilt, shame or even embarrassment over having a higher sex drive than their cisgender male partners?

I pose this question to Georgia Grace, a certified sex coach and your local big sister on the internet, G.Spot. “Shame is a feeling that a lot of people feel when it comes to sex and sexuality,” Georgia says.

The week I speak to Georgia, the sex educator has been (serendipitously) sharing content around shame. “A few common themes have emerged” she notes. “Religion informing people that sex should be between a man and a woman when they’re married, political ideas, limited sex education or the messages they’ve been sent around sex by social groups or sexual experiences. These ideas of shame are multi-faceted.”

Biological differences?

So basically, shame is conditioned. But what about my friend, why does she feel frustrated that her partner doesn’t have the same libido as her? Throughout my research on this topic, I began to realise (due to my woeful public school sex education) that I don’t even know if there is a biological difference between libidos in the sexes.

“No. There’s no biological difference,” Georgia explains. “It’s incredibly common, normal and human, for a person with a vulva to have a higher desire for sex than a cisgender man or a person with a penis.

“Using this idea that biologically, cis-women and cis-men have different desires for sex comes down to the fact that we confuse desire and arousal.”

Georgia says that, basically, desire is what we understand as wanting sex i.e. you’re horny. Arousal, however, is the physiological response that shows up in your body like an erect penis or lubricated vagina.

The difference is that for people with penises, this arousal can happen almost instantly or within a few minutes, but Georgia explains that people with vulvas can take between 20 to 40 minutes to be “fully physiologically aroused”.

This means there’s no difference in our drives but rather in the time it takes our bodies to respond to what’s going on in our environment.

Different strokes for different folks

In sex educator and researcher Emily Nagoski’s book Come As You Are (yes, the book that Maeve Wiley recommends to Aimee Gibbs in the latest season of Sex Education) she shares there are different types of desires that humans can feel.

One is spontaneous desire. This means that it just arrives out of the blue, it can happen instantly without much external stimulation. Emily notes that “75 per cent of men experience spontaneous desire compared to 15 per cent of women”.

The second type of desire is responsive sexual desire. This means the drive shows up in response to the outside environment i.e. seeing an image or video, looking at your partner on date night or being kissed. Emily found that five per cent of men and 30 per cent of women experience this responsive desire.

And finally, there’s contextual sexual desire. This is the reason why you may not feel turned on after a stressful day or a huge meal.

With humans feeling a range of desires that can change every day, there are many reasons why your libido may not always match up to your partner’s.

“A lot of people self diagnose themselves as having low or no desire. But they’re actually just experiencing responsive desire, and they’re not getting enough stimulus in order to bring sex front of mind,” Georgia says.

Being a sex coach, Georgia recommends that couples who are having issues in the bedroom seek professional help. It doesn’t mean anyone is ‘broken’ but it gives a safe space to learn more about communication around sex.

“I think we should be normalising that every single couple will have different levels or different experiences of desire,” says Georgia. “It’s pretty rare that you desire sex at the exact same time as your partner, but by learning about what you both need you can have a really fulfilling sex life.”

Moving past shame

From the movies where the wife constantly “has a headache” or the TV show where the girlfriend bribes the male character with sex for something in return, we’re sold the idea from a young age that men want sex more than women.

Georgia also notes that the patriarchy assumes that “women do not want and should not enjoy sex” and if they do then they’re slut-shamed. Couple this with the orgasm gap and we’re all as confused (and frustrated) as ever.

At the end of the day, these stereotypes we have around gender and sex don’t help anyone. Cisgender men may feel less ‘manly’ if they don’t desire sex at the same rate as their cisgender female partners while cisgender women may feel shame or ‘too much’ when they’re asking for sex more often.

The week we spoke, Georgia shared this quote from American professor Brené Brown on her Instagram feed: “Shame derives its power from being unspeakable.”

By speaking about libido and desire with your partner, to your friends or with a therapist, we can continue to break down these outdated stereotypes, stop feeling shameful for something natural and have more fulfilling sex lives.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Talking About Sex, Intimacy, and MS

by BNS Staff

This is Daana Townsend’s story:

My name is Daana Townsend, and I was diagnosed with RRMS in March 2004. I was 23. My mother and aunt also have MS.

My treatment journey started with Avonex and continued with Tysabri, plasmapheresis, and Lemtrada, and finally Ocrevus (my current DMT or disease-modifying therapy).

After being in what I refer to as denial about the impact of MS on my life, I finally decided to open up about my experiences as a Black woman with MS (a narrative often missing in the community).

In 2018, a friend and fellow MSer, Dawn Morgan, and I started the Myelin & Melanin podcast. We’re two Black women sharing our musings about life, MS, and everything in between.

This brings me to a juicy topic: Sex and intimacy.

During season three, we produced two different series on intimacy. Intimacy is one of those topics that is often glossed over when it comes to MS; people (including medical providers) are often more concerned with issues pertaining to treating MS. Intimacy often gets pushed to the wayside.

This is problematic on many levels.

In our first series, we focused on “the basics.” We touched on the ideas of self-love, self-acceptance, communication, and honesty with partners.

We also talked with medical professionals in the MS community to address the importance of having frank conversations with your medical team about sex. We also talked with members of and influencers in the MS community about their experiences in navigating intimate relationships (romantic and platonic).

We took things a bit further in the second series. We focused on issues that are often left out of the intimacy, MS, and disability narratives like pleasure, sexual superpowers, guilt, shame, love languages, kink, and BDSM (variety of sexual practices that involve bondage, dominance, and submission/sadomasochism).

We welcomed a sex therapist, somatic sex educator, professional dominatrix (with MS), as well as members of the kink and MS communities to explore these nuanced issues with us.

We find that people with chronic illnesses and disabilities are seen as asexual and somehow not worthy of fulfilling sexual relationships. This is a problem, and we wanted to challenge the narrative. We did, and the conversation continues!

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What Does It Really Mean To Be A Bottom?

By Gina Tonic

I remember a Tumblr post that changed my view of vaginas forever, as Tumblr posts are wont to do when you’re 16 years old and on the family computer late at night. The user was analysing the semantics of how we talk about sex. Why, they wanted to know, is sex always considered to be a penis penetrating a vagina? Why are penises always dominant but vaginas always submissive? What if we flip the narrative? What if the vagina envelops or engulfs the phallus? What if the penis is the submissive one of the pair?

This heteronormative example can be easily applied to queer relationships, too. The one who receives is the ‘bottom’, the one who gives is the ‘top’. The language lends itself to the stereotypes that the former is the submissive and the latter is the dominant. Indeed, the labels ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ are often used interchangeably with the labels ‘dom’ and ‘sub’ – but is this always true? And is it a fair assumption?

In 2018 an Autostraddle survey discovered that 47.4% of lesbian bottoms prefer not to be actively ‘in control’ during intercourse and only 41% of bottoms identified themselves as kinky.

Nate, a trans man who identifies as a switch, contributed to the survey with an important clarification: “Bottoming definitely doesn’t automatically mean anything kinky (same for topping), while submissive (and dominant) mean something more specifically related to kink and power play.”

I think what tops do – give rather than receive – can definitely be more submissive than bottoming.
Bethan, 26

Fran, 25, a submissive queer woman from London, believes this distinction is incredibly important not just for shagging purposes but also on a queer liberation front. “Top and bottom are umbrella terms for giving and receiving,” she tells me. “But I feel these terms stem from attempts of fitting WLW (women-loving-women) relationships into a heteronormative stereotype. I strongly oppose this so I prefer to call myself submissive instead of a bottom.”

Once again the stereotype is that receiving is a traditionally female act in heterosexual relationships and, in turn, being the ‘woman’ of the relationship is an inherently submissive role. This conflation stinks of sexism of a bygone era where woman is seen as lesser than man and so to receive is to be weaker, too.

Lucy Rowett, a UK clinical sexologist working with sexual wellness brand Pleasy Play, asks us to reconsider the act of bottoming and submissiveness in general as a rebellion against outdated gender roles. “Remember that if you are in a lesbian relationship or you are a queer woman, you are already defying gender roles and expectations. What if you could embrace being a bottom as another form of defiance against this and being true to yourself?” she enthuses.

“Regardless of sexuality or gender, of whether kink such as BDSM is involved, the more bottoms or submissives you speak to, you’ll find a commonality: they share a feeling of freedom,” she adds.

In short, she says, by embracing acts that only bring us pleasure, that bring us freedom, we can find a subversive kind of liberation and power in being a submissive or a bottom.

However it isn’t always true that a woman is the ‘receiver’ in a heteronormative relationship. It is possible for two cis straight or bisexual people to be in a relationship where the man prefers to receive and the woman prefers to give (see: pegging).

So what to do? The problem with dismissing these labels as ‘heterosexual’ reminds me of the 1970s lesbian feminists who rallied against ‘butch’ and ‘femme’ monickers, arguing that they mimicked straight relationship roles. That’s a discourse that remains controversial today but is an outdated way of looking at queerness. The identities of femme and butch remain important to our community, our history and our identities. Dismissing the labels ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ from queer language altogether feels, to me, like a repetition of these past mistakes.

“I think the act of giving is more submissive,” says 26-year-old Bethan, a submissive bisexual based in London. “What tops do – give, rather than receive – can definitely be more submissive… Like if a woman is sitting on your face and using you for her pleasure, that feels like a dominant act.”

Again, the language we use to describe our sexual gratification plays an important role. Does a bottom ‘receive’ or do they ‘take’? To push this idea further, the submissive in a kink relationship has the ultimate power over the sexual play taking place. They are the one setting boundaries, expressing what they want and having a safe word. When all is said and done, they are the decision-maker in the bedroom. The fun comes from pretending that they are not in charge at all.

@theayapapaya My humor lately has only consisted of pegging jokes I’m sorry #fyp #foryoupage #superbowlliv #couplegoals #groupchat #boyfriend♬ original sound – teresaatm_

You’ll find this idea in the pop culture that is developing around pegging, too. Pegging memes suggest that there are a lot more men who adore penetration than our limited secondary school sex education allowed us to imagine. Traditionally, there has been a lot of stigma surrounding pegging too. The same problem that lesbians describe with the ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ dynamic is repeated here: assuming that being penetrated equals submission implies that taking on the ‘female’ role is automatically a submissive act. This not only couches submissiveness as a negative but implies that being female is a negative, too. The reality is that submission and being a woman do not necessarily go hand in hand; otherwise, as Fran puts it, “you would never see female doms.”

@blaire_gamemy man’s says hi tiktok #LiftYourDream #18plus #pegtok♬ There is very little left of me – Larsen

Jessica*, a 28-year-old submissive woman from Manchester who also likes to don strap-ons, explains that pegging does not have to be a part of power play at all. “I have always been submissive in bed, to the point where being dominant makes me feel extremely uncomfortable,” she tells me. “That said, I really loved pegging my ex-boyfriend – who was also my dom – and it didn’t take away from my submissiveness at all.”

“As our relationship dynamic was already firmly set, it felt natural and even submissive in a certain sense to be the one giving him pleasure in such an intimate way,” she continues. “Although many people who want to be pegged may be submissive, I think it is important to recognise that it is possible to peg without giving up those subby feelings.”

Ness Cooper, a sexologist who works as a sex and relationship coach at The Sex Consultant, confirms that decisions about who tops, who bottoms, who doms and who subs can only be made by those within the relationship. “If you’re both into power play consensually then sure, use the terms ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ freely if you prefer them to ‘dom’ and ‘sub’,” she says.

Ness continues to highlight the importance of looking within your relationship and deciding what works for you. “Remember we are influenced greatly by what we see and read outside in the world when it comes to sexuality,” she continues, “but taking time to learn about yourself can be helpful as no one else knows fully about your world when it comes to how you see sexuality and sex.”

What’s more, the only people who need to know how you describe your sexuality and how you interact with sex are the ones you are being intimate with. A label is far from a cause to force yourself into participating in a dynamic you might not be enjoying or even comfortable with. As long as the sex you’re having is consensual and pleasurable, titles can mean whatever you want them to mean.

As Jessica and Ness lay out, the dynamic between a couple – be that top and bottom, dom and sub or any other kind of role you like to take on – is as unique as the relationship. Lumping labels together only diminishes the highly personal nature of each connection and can lead to invalidating those who don’t fit in with strict definitions of sex and kink roles.

*Name changed to protect identity Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How do we talk to teens about sex in a world of porn?

Teenage boys’ easy access to violent sexual images is creating a crisis for them – and for women, argues the anti-porn campaigner

Today’s online content is sadistic and extreme, says activist Gail Dines.

By

Violence against women is never far from the news, but currently it is high on the agenda – and porn features again and again as a factor. From the murder of Sarah Everard to the paltry sentence handed down to Sam Pybus, the latest man to use the so-called “rough sex defence”, it seems the world is riven with misogyny.

Sarah’s killer Wayne Couzens was attracted to “brutal sexual pornography”, the court heard during his trial. Pybus – who was sentenced to four years and eight months last month for manslaughter after strangling a vulnerable woman during sex – was also known to use violent porn. Tackling porn culture is clearly a key part of tackling sexual violence towards women. I have campaigned to end the sex trade for decades, and am well aware of its role in the sexual exploitation of women.

Last weekend, the very first virtual international conference about how to teach sex education from a feminist perspective and a porn-critical lens took place. Taking On Porn: Developing Resilience and Resistance through Sex Education was organised by Culture Reframed, a US-based NGO founded by the academic and anti-porn activist Gail Dines. Part of it focused on how to help parents to have conversations with their children about what Dines calls the “public health crisis of the digital age”.

Inspired partly by demand from the UK educational world, the conference is responding to concerns from many parents about “pro-porn” programmes running in some schools since relationship and sex education became mandatory in September 2020.

Dines points to one teacher guide that puts forward the argument, “Porn is entertainment, like a film, not a ‘how to’ guide. However, that doesn’t mean people can’t learn things from porn they might not learn in other places. Just as movies can sometimes contain valuable insights, so can porn.”

In this guide, porn consumption is likened to having a sweet tooth: “Porn is a bit like a chocolate cake, it’s nice to enjoy it every now and then but if you have it for lunch every day it’s no longer a treat and becomes the norm, then you’re just in a cycle of eating chocolate cake because you’re too busy eating it to make anything else.”

But, as Dines points out, today’s online content is nothing like the now defunct Playboy magazine. In short, it has become more sadistic and extreme. One influential study found that about 90% of the most commonly viewed heterosexual porn scenes contained aggression and violence towards women and girls.

Online pornography has become the primary form of sex education for young people, and the average age for kids to start accessing it is 11. Porn sites get more visits each month than Amazon, Twitter and Netflix combined.

Fred Hechinger, left, as porn-addicted Quinn with his father Mark (Steve Zahn) in TV drama The White Lotus.

“Many sex ed teachers feel ill equipped to tackle the issue of porn use among their students,” says Dines, the author of Pornland: How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality. For Dines, because porn has become the leading form of sex education globally, the conference is an essential part of bringing sex education up to date. She believes that pornography acts as a kind of cultural script, which exploits women and at the same time limits their free sexual expression and pleasure. Parents have been telling Culture Reframed about how concerned they feel about their children’s viewing of porn, with one saying: “My daughter was bullied into sending a sext by her boyfriend, who then sent it to his friends. Culture Reframed’s online resources not only gave us the ability to help her, but also gave us insights into the ways our hypersexualised culture victimises girls.”

Tom Farr, a UK-based campaigner against male violence, with a particular focus on the harms caused by pornography, and spoke at the conference. His talk looked at the links between porn use and likelihood of committing acts of sexual violence, as well as health issues such as depression, PTSD, and even erectile dysfunction.

“Porn has become the de facto form of sex education for many young men and boys,” says Farr. “They have unfettered access to the most degrading, violent and abusive content imaginable at the click of a button. What are the individual and societal implications of a generation of young people groomed by exposure to hardcore porn?”

Another speaker was critical race theorist and feminist Dr Carolyn West, an expert in violence against African American women and girls, who condemned the racist sexualisation of women of colour in porn.

The UK academic Dr Fiona Vera-Gray, whose work on women’s experience of mainstream online pornography has been included in the development of the Department for Education’s relationships and sex education curriculum, discussed women and porn use. Women do use porn, but often to explore what might be expected of them sexually.

Lilith and Savannah, hosts and producers of the Female Dating Strategy podcast looked at how to build healthy relationships.

I spoke to Adam*, 17, who is writing an essay on his former porn consumption. Adam, who refers to himself as “porn-free”, says he felt pressured into porn use by friends. “It became a habit I couldn’t break,” he says, “and I started looking at girls and imagining them doing the stuff I saw in the videos. I stopped seeing them as human beings.”

Sarah*, 18, says she is looking to set up a “Girls against porn” group for 16-year-olds and over because she is “disgusted at porn-sick boys sending unwanted dick pics” to her younger sister and her school friends.

Like other feminist campaigners against the sex trade, Dines has been accused of being an anti-sex moralist who wishes to censor sexual expression, but, she says, nothing could be further from the truth. “Any progressive, humanitarian approach should focus on dismantling the porn industry,” says Dines, “and not the continuation of its insidious commercialisation of abuse and misery.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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National Coming Out Day

— Some LGBTQ seniors fearing discrimination go back ‘into the closet’

A group of SAGE elders participate in a small group session at SAGE Center Bronx in New York, circa 2017.

National Coming Out Day is Oct. 11.

By Kiara Alfonseca

When Don Bell, a 71-year-old gay man, was searching for a senior living facility, he knew one thing for sure: He didn’t want to go “back into the closet” to find a safe place to live.“I had to face the fact that I was entering the stage of life where I was going to be living alone and responsible for my own life,” Bell told ABC News. “I had to look around at my own home community, and I had to consider where I would be safe and where I would be accepted.”Bell was his mother’s caretaker for many years, but after she died, he feared living alone. He said he wondered what life might be like if he was unable to find a welcoming environment as a gay Black man.Fearing homelessness, Bell fortunately won a lottery for one of the 72 spots in Chicago’s first LGBTQ-inclusive living facility.

But many aren’t so lucky. Some older members of the LGBTQ community are forced to hide their sexuality or gender identity in long-term care or housing facilities because they’re afraid of discrimination.

LGBTQ elders are a vulnerable population — they experience high rates of social isolation, are less likely to have children to care for them and experience higher levels of disability and illness, according to research by the Human Rights Campaign. Discrimination only exacerbates these insecurities.

About 3 out of 4 LGBTQ adults age 45 and older said they’re concerned about having enough support from family and friends as they get older, according to a 2018 study by AARP.

PHOTO: Gay seniors and supporters walk with SAGE at the New York City Pride March, June 25, 2017.
Gay seniors and supporters walk with SAGE at the New York City Pride March, June 25, 2017.

According to Michael Adams, chief executive officer of the LGBTQ senior advocacy group SAGE, elderly LGBTQ people often fear they’ll be refused care, abused or neglected in senior living communities.”Re-closeting,” Adams explained, “looks like: People taking the pictures of their loved ones and their partners down off their walls because they’re afraid a homecare attendant will see the pictures and will mistreat them as a result of it.”

AARP found that respondents living in “unfriendly” communities were seven times more likely to report experiences of housing discrimination due to their sexual or gender identity.

“It looks like making believe that they’re straight when they’re not,” Adams added. “It looks like making believe that they don’t have same-sex partners, hiding their LGBTQ magazines … it means erasing a whole fundamental part of their lives in order to protect themselves.”

There aren’t consistent or explicit anti-discrimination protections for all LGBTQ people at a federal level. SAGE data shows that about half of all LGBTQ older adults live in states where it’s not illegal to deny access to housing or public accommodations based on someone’s sexuality or gender expression.

Only 18% of long-term care communities have policies in place that protect LGBTQ residents, SAGE’s research shows.

PHOTO: Pam DeMoucell, right, dances with her spouse, Jane Beltramini, both of Pembroke, Mass., during an LGBT senior luncheon in Boston on June 20, 2016.
Pam DeMoucell, right, dances with her spouse, Jane Beltramini, both of Pembroke, Mass., during an LGBT senior luncheon in Boston on June 20, 2016.

Bell can recall the many forms of anti-LGBTQ discrimination he’s experienced throughout his life. He’s part of what he calls the first “out” generation, which is now aging: “We have lived the entire 50-year arc of the LGBT civil rights movement. Everything from Stonewall onward is not history to us, it’s life experience to us.”

The sharpest memories of discrimination for Bell seem to be the HIV/AIDS crisis that killed hundreds of thousands of LGBTQ people across the U.S. during the 1980s. The epidemic peaked in 2004, killing 1.9 million in one year, according to UNAIDS, a United Nations advocacy agency.

Patients with HIV/AIDs, as well as other LGBTQ people at the time, faced discrimination in health care, employment, housing — and the community was forced to create its own safe spaces.

“Many of the brick-and-mortar institutions that exist in the LGBT community are those that we had to build ourselves because we could not seek shelter or care in other places,” Bell told ABC News.

PHOTO: Lujira Cooper, 73, is an Edie Windsor SAGE Center participant in New York.
Lujira Cooper, 73, is an Edie Windsor SAGE Center participant in New York.

Bell lives in one of few spaces created specifically for LGBTQ elderly people in the country. New York, California and Illinois are among the states where inclusive housing is easier to obtain, and organizations like SAGE are trying to help ensure access to more.

SAGE is working to build housing specifically designed for LGBTQ elders, to change laws and policies that protect elders from discrimination, and offer centers, programs and more to keep elders safe while they live alone.

They work with local legislators and partner on initiatives to address discrimination and safety issues.

However, Adams said, they can’t do the work alone.

“We need people in power — our legislators, our governors — to understand that our elders have given so much to our society,” he said. “They have worked so hard over so many decades, and it is profoundly wrong that because of who they love, and because of who they are, that in the later years of their life, they are left completely vulnerable to discrimination mistreatment. That has to change.”

Lujira Cooper, a 73-year-old lesbian woman, has never been had to hide her sexuality, but she said she understands the pain that being closeted, or re-closeted, can cause.

“It’s a form of isolation, traumatic, and I can see it creating a case of more suicides,” Cooper explained. “You don’t want to have to go through that again just to get a place to live and be safe and cared for and comfortable. And it’s a fight, and unfortunately it’s a fight that’s still going on.”

For National Coming Out Day, Oct. 11, Cooper urges people of all sexualities and gender identities to stand up for LGBTQ seniors — people who’ve played big roles in the gay rights movement’s success.

“Community is really important and finding like-minded people who will fight with and for you is a major task for senior LGBT people,” Cooper said.

Adams agrees: “We had to fight for the right to get old. We’re not willing to accept that we’re going to be treated like pariahs and made invisible in our old age. We won’t accept that.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Has your relationship lost its sexual spark?

Here’s how to bring it back and escape your dry spell

Don’t panic if you’re in a dry spell

By

Feel like your relationship is in a rut, sex-wise?

You’re certainly not alone.

When you’ve been in a relationship for a while, it’s natural for your sex life to go through ups and downs.

But when you’re in a low point, things can feel a bit dismal.

A recent survey from Burton Constable Holiday Park (don’t ask us why they’re doing this bit of research, we’re not sure either) found that 22% of respondents said their relationship spark had disappeared.

The number one cause given for this? A lack of physical affection. Perhaps PDA is worth giving a go… or just more physical intimacy at home, if you’re not keen on putting on a display.

Other reasons confessed for a lull included not going on enough dates with their partner, a shortage of communication, and not having enough one-on-one time.

Relationship expert Hayley Quinn suggested that to remedy this issue, couples should go on regular holidays together.*

*Okay, now we understand why a holiday park commissioned this research.

‘I don’t think many couples put the time and effort into reigniting romance, which isn’t a criticism; it’s difficult when you have to deal with life admin,’ says Hayley. ‘Spending time to create romance easily falls to the bottom of the pile.’

While a romantic getaway does sound nice, it’s not your only option for escaping a sexual dry spell.

We chatted with relationship expert and author Lucy Beresford for her wisdom.

Try not to take a dry spell personally

There are so, so many reasons why sex might not be happening as frequently as it used to. Don’t jump to conclusions.

Lucy tells Metro.co.uk: ‘Recognise that sex is complex and may be about stress or lack of confidence on the part of your partner, so less to do with you and how desirable you are.

‘Focus on adoring yourself and treating yourself with love and respect, so that you are not reliant on how your partner feels about you.’

Have an honest conversation

It’s tough when you feel like you’re the only one struggling with your relationship’s lack of sexual passion.

The first step to sorting this out is acknowledging that there’s an issue.

‘The right amount of sex is different for every couple, so start by having conversations about the current situation to find out how your partner feels and to state your own needs gently,’ Lucy says.

‘Make sure you have these conversations when you both have time to give each other space to state your needs and listen to each other, and keep the focus positive and with no judgement or blame.

‘Explore whether your partner feels the lack of sex is because of a non-sexual relationship issue. For example if they feel you’re distracted, not making time for them, or not supporting them emotionally, you both need to work together on that issue first.’

Ditch guilt, blame, and shame

Stop beating yourself up for not having an allnight sex session every other day.

‘Remember that we often make the mistake of believing everyone else – particularly people we see on social media – have the perfect relationship with tons of sex,’ says Lucy. ‘But in truth, many couples haven’t had sex in weeks, months, or even since the pandemic started.

‘Studies show that as many as 15% of couples are suffering from a sexless relationship. So have compassion for all that you and your partner have gone through this past 18 months, and recognise that you are doing the right thing to address this now.’

Check your language

Related to the above, make sure that when you’re chatting with your partner about your sex life, you’re not assigning blame.

Lucy advises: ‘Use ‘I’ phrases (“I have loved it when…”) rather than “you” phrases (‘you never/always…’). This can help avoid your partner feeling attacked or blamed.’

Come up with some action points

Sounds formal, we know, but make a concrete plan of how you’re going to bring back the sexual spark.

Lucy suggests: ‘Examples include making a promise to always kiss before one of you leaves the house or gets back home, or take an evening to just focus on gazing at each other, or stroke each other, to take the pressure of feeling like you have to have full-on penetrative sex.’

Take small steps to get more physical

When you’re going through a dry spell, just initiating sex can feel like an impossible hurdle – especially if you’ve always relied on your partner to get things started.

Get rid of the pressure by focusing on smaller acts of physical intimacy.

‘Skin-on-skin contact, whether it’s kissing, hand-holding, a massage, or stroking, has a hugely beneficial effect on strengthening the bond of affection, without ramping up the expectation that it has to be about sex,’ notes Lucy.

‘Baby steps as you both get back into the rhythm of sexual activity is more important than going straight for full-on intimacy.’

Check in with your own confidence levels

‘Focus on your own body confidence, which may have slipped during the lack of sex,’ Lucy tells us.

Make sure you’re feeling comfortable getting naked, and perhaps have some self-love time to get your self-image back to a healthy place.

Focus on fun

If you’re stressing out about having the ‘right’ amount of mindblowing sex, you’re on the wrong track.

Get rid of the pressure to orgasm – or to even have penetrative sex, if that feels a bit much for you right now.

Instead, challenge yourself and your partner to have some fun, get intimate, and see what feels good – no pressure, no rush.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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The Common Sexual Health Issue You Probably Didn’t Know About

By Ondine Jean-Baptiste

Have you ever headed back to your date’s place after a sultry night out, ready to have a good time — only to struggle getting there physically? The connection is there, but you just cannot get yourself aroused no matter how much you want to. You might be left feeling embarrassed at this momentary impotence, kicking yourself for potentially signaling to the other party that you just aren’t that into them when it couldn’t be further from the truth. The technical term for this feeling is arousal non-concordance, which is essentially the disconnect between the mental or emotional response and the body’s response to sexual stimuli. In addition to the aforementioned scenario, arousal non-concordance can also refer to the opposite effect — when the body is responding physically to sexual activity or touches (vaginal lubrication, for example) but the desire is not there or the mind is saying no.

Sexual wellness educator Catriona Lygate explains that while people often tend to use the words “desire” and “arousal” interchangeably, there is a marked difference between the two. By her definition, sexual arousal is a physical state of being, and something one can sometimes not have conscious control over. Desire on the other hand, is psychological. We can desire a second scoop of ice cream after dinner, less work hours, or the neighbor three doors down. This is a conscious want individuals do have control over.

Learning and understanding the desire-arousal distinction are crucial in troubleshooting any issues in communication. Culturally, many are socialized to believe that talking about sexual likes and dislikes is awkward, embarrassing, and unnecessary; that if sexual chemistry is present, the people involved will naturally know how to please each other. In practice, this is not always the case. Arousal actually involves a tricky combination of many contextual factors such as your mood, headspace, your emotions about the relationship with the other person(s), and distinct turn-ons that play on your senses like smell, taste, and touch.

Researcher and author Emily Nagoski popularized the term arousal non-concordance in 2015 when she first published Come As You Are; however this phenomenon has existed for as long as humans have been getting busy. To describe how sexual response works, in her book, Nagoski goes into the dual control model which involves a gas pedal and a brake. Any time your brain receives information that’s even slightly sex-related (like right now), it sends a signal varying in intensity to “hit the gas” and feel arousal. Simultaneously, your brain is also hitting the brakes based on all the external factors in the moment that may indicate it’s a bad idea to be turned on right now. She explains that being turned on relies on so much subjective messaging from our environment.

Many have been in situations where they might not be in the mood for any sexual activity, but a caress or knowing touch in the right spot can elicit an instant response from their body. You might not want to become intimate, but physical changes can be interpreted otherwise. After understanding arousal non-concordance (the disconnect between mind and body reactions), however, it is evident that bodily arousal is not always an indicator as to whether someone wants to initiate or continue sexual acts.

Nagoski actually digs into this further in a blogpost subsequent to her 2015 book, stating that genital response is, again, not primarily about desire or pleasure but sexual “relevance” (meaning presence of sexual stimuli). The stimulation that gets our bodies going in any given moment might be unwanted, but it has no true bearing on one’s sexual fantasies. If bodily arousal appears to be a false “green light” as previously mentioned, then arousal non-concordance is the yellow, signaling that it’s time to slow down and have a conversation. “It is crucial to know and remind yourself that you are not broken, damaged, or flawed if you experience arousal non-concordance,” shares psychologist and certified sex therapist Dr. Kate Balestrieri.

What if the roles are reversed and it’s your partner who is aroused but verbally communicates they do not want to proceed? Listen and respect their limits. Dr. Balestrieri says, “Make note of the context in which you experience non-concordance, so you can be more readily prepared to discuss with a partner, set boundaries that align with your mental and emotional desire, and remain convicted of your own truth about non-consensual experiences.” And if your partner is not aroused but verbally communicates they do want to proceed? Focus on their pleasure. Use this time to ask them what they desire and focus on their erogenous zones during foreplay.

For any instances of arousal non-concordance, the lesson here is to always communicate. If you are experiencing this issue in any form, confiding that information is important to establish understanding between you and your partner. It doesn’t have to ruin the vibe — this is the perfect opportunity to learn something new about each other by offering an alternative. Perhaps this moment helps you realize some sexual trauma ignored early on is resurfacing, and thus preventing you from feeling comfortable enough to take that next step of intimacy. “It can be helpful to work with a sex therapist or to seek assistance from an OB/GYN or urologist if you experience arousal non-concordance frequently, or if you feel distress as a result, especially if you have a history of trauma and feel confused by your body’s reaction,” Balestrieri recommends.

At a time where sex seems on everyone’s minds after months of isolation and anxiety, talking about arousal non-concordance may ease any apprehension one might have about sexual satisfaction and can create realistic expectations when meeting someone new. Remember that genital response does not always equal sexual desire, and you should be looking for clear, verbal consent before getting down to business. Any temporary awkwardness is better than misconstruing what your sexual partner wants at that moment, and communication is key to making your partner feel safe and comfortable. Context is crucial when getting in the right frame of mind to set the mood, so don’t be shy — ask what your partner wants! When both pleasure and desire are present for all parties, it’s a guaranteed great time.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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First FDA-Approved Sex Therapy App

Lover, the digital therapeutic app for improving people’s sex lives and treating sexual problems, is the first sexual app to be approved by the FDA.

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FDA Approval for Lover App

Lover, the digital therapeutic for improving people’s sex lives and treating sexual problems, has been approved by the FDA for its Safer Technologies Program. The app, co-founded in 2019 by Dr Britney Blair and entrepreneurs Jas Bagniewski and Nick Pendle, has been downloaded over 200k times across 166 countries in the last year and reports an 87% ‘satisfaction’ rate for users who want to improve their sex lives.

The STep program aims to enable people to access safer medical devices for ‘less serious’ (ie ‘non life-threatening or reasonably irreversible’ ) for the improvement of health outcomes. The FDA has stated that Lover has been shown to provide “significant safety advantage in treating and/or diagnosing less serious diseases or conditions” and “can also provide an important public health benefit.”

Co-Founders Nick Pendle and Jas Bagniewski say,

“We are delighted to be the first digital therapeutic for sex approved by the FDA. Since our launch, Lover has always aimed to be the most effective sexual wellness app on the market, and the FDA’s approval into their STeP program is the ultimate endorsement of this. We have long-believed the product, exercises and educational content we have built with Dr. Britney Blair and her team of experts can help millions of people enjoy better sex and happier relationships, and we’ve been proven to be a safe and an efficient way to deal with sexual problems. Lover works, and we couldn’t be prouder that following a rigorous review, the FDA agrees with us.”

User Efficacy Data

To be approved Lover provided user efficacy data which reported the distress level that a specific sexual issue was causing on a scale of 1-10. On average a distress level is usually around 6.9/10, when a user joins. After 2 weeks this is shown to drop to 3.7/10 on average.

Other efficacy stats reported by the app state that users had less distress connected to their sexual issues after using the app (87%), that the women were more easily and more consistently able to climax (92%) and an increased libido for females following app exercises (70%). For men, 94% reported less distress after the Erectile Dysfunction course and 62% of men reported improved erections.

Lover bills itself as being a ‘science-based approach to solving sexual problems,’ guiding users through a process of self-discovery through personalised advice and educational content. After a private 30 minute consultation of personalised 1-2-1 coaching and goal-setting, clinically proven advice and exercises are curated to steer users towards a fulfilling, healthy sex life, which the co-founders believe is essential to personal wellbeing and relationship satisfaction.

What the FDA Approval Means for Lover

The co-founders set out to provide a service that was not prohibitively expensive, yet as informative and effective as face-to-face therapy, or even prescribed medication. Using an app also eliminates the embarrassment that so many experience when having to speak to a professional face-to-face: Lover is completely private and personalised.

Co-Founder Dr. Britney Blair says,

“To receive this approval is a game-changer for us as it means Doctors and Clinicians can feel even more comfortable in recommending us as a viable alternative to traditional forms of care for sexual dysfunction. For most of us, sex and sexuality is a core part of our identity and crucial to relationship satisfaction. It affects our confidence, and our ability to connect with ourselves and our partner. Prioritising your sex life and your sexual pleasure may very well help you move the through the world happier, healthier and more satisfied in your relationship. Going to see a doctor about your sexual health is not easy. It can be embarrassing to talk about, time-consuming and expensive. With Lover, we hope we can help many more people than my team could ever see at our clinic. We want to make sexual wellness accessible to everyone.”

Lover is free to download and the first activity in your personalised goal is free to use. There are 2 membership options: 3 month access for $59.99 (£51.99 in UK) or annual access for $119.99 (£102.99 in UK).

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Crushes & First (Same-Sex) Kisses

— Coming Out In My 30s Made Me Feel Like A Teen Again

By Alena Papayanis

A few years ago, my dentist tried to convince me to get Invisalign, along with a little bit of hardware as part of the full treatment. Braces? At 38? This was the final straw.

At this point, I had recently come out from a straight marriage and was dating women for the first time. In many ways, it was like being a teenager all over again: first (same-sex) kiss, first sexual experience, a desire to belong, feeling out of control at times, and a lot of angst and journaling. The thought of essentially getting braces suddenly made my experience of midlife adolescence far too literal. I recoiled at the thought of coming any closer to an actual teenaged-reality; I was having enough trouble as it was.

Although norms around sexuality and orientation have opened up dramatically in recent years, many women questioning or exploring their sexuality later in life find themselves in this awkward liminal space: an emotional coming-of-age without the support and understanding that comes with real adolescence.

I’m not sure that anyone would willingly revisit their awkward teenage years, but I’d like to make a case for adolescence at any age.

For me, it was like living a secret life: university professor and mother by day, baby queer on Tinder at night, having to curate my dating profile with the underlying fear of my own students seeing me on it. On my nights without my five-year-old daughter, I’d be out with my queer friends at the bar, drinking more and staying up later than most of my straight peers who were already in their deep sleep stage, and would not be hungover in the morning. On my nights with my daughter, I would physically be singing her to sleep while mentally daydreaming about my current crush.

My friends were confused by my sudden heartbreak and dating ups and downs — I’m a highly educated and intelligent woman, yet I was being thrown around by intense new experiences and drama I’d never navigated before. At times, I’d feel kind of small telling my “older” straight friends about it, as if my problems were petty compared to their “adult” concerns of mortgages and motherhood; yet, to me they felt so urgent and immediate.

And so did sex — this time around. In school, I remember my best friend hooking up repeatedly with her toxic ex. At the time, I never understood why she just couldn’t just stop having sex with him. It was so easy for me, much to the disappointment of my then-boyfriend. Not only had I not really cared about sex the first time around with men, but at times I tried to avoid it entirely.

As a baby queer, I’ve checked off a solid shortlist of bad dating decisions that love coaches warn you about, including a dramatic off-and-on rollercoaster relationship, and a long-distance relationship with a woman I’d only known for a few months. I’ve allowed myself to be love bombed and subsequently played, and tried to win the hearts of more emotionally unavailable women than I’d like to admit on paper. Sexual attraction sometimes completely suspended my logic. It also left me feeling shamefully inexperienced at times, regardless of how much natural instinct had finally kicked in.

All the firsts felt so huge and all the endings equally dramatic

Having all my inner wounds exposed through a series of less-than-ideal, yet somehow more authentic, queer relationships was hard. But the experience also helped me heal. Adolescence is a time when we take all of the “shoulds” and “should nots” that our family, school, and society have taught us, and test them.

As a blossoming people-pleaser, I mostly abided by them, internalising all the rules I was given. I wasn’t aware or courageous enough to discover and be my own self — the obstacles felt too great at the time. Maybe my midlife adolescence has been an attempt to capture this lost, queer version of my past, the closest I’ll ever get to a “do-over” and to getting a glimpse of an alternate version of my life.

Today, I’ve got a solid network of queers around me. I can share my dating stories and identity journey with them, but I’m still sort of the floater I was in high school — the one who seemingly gets along with the different cliques but is only truly close to a few people. Being older and a mother make me too odd-shaped to fit perfectly into queer groups that are largely younger and child-free. Still, I can now celebrate my ability to be comfortably alone after spending the majority of my life never really knowing myself; it’s nice to finally feel like home.

I can now celebrate my ability to be comfortably alone after spending the majority of my life never really knowing myself; it’s nice to finally feel like home.

I’m not sure that anyone would willingly revisit their awkward teenage years, but I’d like to make a case for adolescence at any age. Transitionary times like this naturally lend themselves to change and metamorphosis. They are opportunities to no longer hold yourself to the past and to let your former self suddenly be unrecognisable, to others and maybe most importantly, to yourself.

As British philosopher and writer Alan Watts famously said, “You’re under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago.” Looking back now, at age 41, it’s hard to believe that I was any of the previous versions of myself, and I feel ready to let go of this past full of strangers.

I see the humour in the messiness and awkwardness of my midlife adolescence, but I also see its power, because it’s when I too became someone new — just with the same old imperfect teeth.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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7 Signs a Monogamous Relationship Isn’t For You

According to a polyamorous sex therapist.

By Rachel Wright

Monogamy is all around us. It’s the relationship style we see every day in the media, pop culture, religion, and, generally, in our everyday lives.

Unfortunately, compulsory monogamy is also all around us. Compulsory monogamy culture assumes that everyone strives to be married (or partnered) to/with one person and finds complete fulfillment in that romantic endeavor. It’s the idea that this one romantic partner not only completes us, but also fulfills every need and desire we have. (And FYI, even if you do want one partner, it’s still impossible for that one person to meet all your needs).

Many people who are just beginning to navigate their sexual desires and romantic relationships are taught that monogamy is the only relationship structure available to them. As a polyamorous sex therapist, I believe when someone knows their options for relationship structures, they can decide what feels best for them.

Knowing that non-monogamy is an option does not mean that it will be for everyone — it simply allows people to decide what relationship structure and boundaries work for them while eliminating the shame some may feel when they have a hard time fitting into the monogamy mold.

It’s super important to note that practicing monogamy doesn’t put you on a higher moral ground than someone practicing ethical non-monogamy (ENM). And practicing ENM doesn’t put you on a higher moral ground than someone who is monogamous. Your relationship structure is just that. How you treat other humans determines what moral ground you’re on, not your relationship structure. Just trust that everyone is making the best, informed decision for what feels the best for their life.

So, let’s go over what exactly ethical non-monogamy is. Ethical non-monogamy is an umbrella term for all relationships where all partners are aware of the dynamic and consent to their partner(s) either dating or having sex outside of the relationship. Some of the ways folks can practice ethical non-monogamy are stranger sex, polyamory, random hookups, relationship anarchy, swinging, and friends with benefits.

Quite a few myths surround ethical non-monogamy, so let’s tackle the stigmas first before diving in!

Myth: Ethical non-monogamy is cheating.

Reality: Non-ethical non-monogamy is cheating. Cheating is the non-monogamy part without communication or consent. Anytime we aren’t being truthful to people who trust us is not ethical — ever.

Myth: Something is wrong or lacking in the “primary” relationship.

Reality: Practicing ENM brings folks closer together, presents many new challenges, and it’s not meant as a “hail mary” to save a relationship. Ideally, and in what I’ve seen in my practice, most folks who decide to try or practice ENM are fully happy together. In the same way that a single person ideally needs to be a complete human before entering into a relationship, a couple will have more success and have healthier relationships if they are solid and happy.

Myth: Ethical non-monogamy is an excuse not to commit.

Reality: Commitment doesn’t necessarily mean exclusivity to genitals, and everyone’s definition of commitment is different. Just like you can be committed to multiple friendships, you can be committed to multiple romantic relationships as well — and there’s nothing wrong with being single, whether you identify as monogamous or not!

Myth: Ethical non-monogamy is all about sex.

Reality: For some, yes, and that’s perfectly okay. For most, ENM is complicated because of our compulsive monogamous culture, and those complications are “too much” for “just sex.” It’s also a naive understanding of ENM, to begin with — we don’t assume monogamous people are only together for sex, so it’s silly to assume the same of ENM.

Myth: Ethical non-monogamy can’t work long term.

Reality: There are so many happy ENM individuals, couples, throuples, quads, and families living worldwide. Because of the compulsive monogamous culture we’re living in, we just don’t get to hear much about this!

Isn’t it interesting that it’s the societal norm to have one romantic partner, whereas it’s entirely “normal” for us to have many friends? We don’t ever ask, “won’t your other friends be jealous if you see that friend tonight?” Romantic relationships are relationships, just like friendships are relationships. Relationships are relationships are relationships are relationships are relationships are relationships. If you love your friend and your other friend, you know what it’s like to love two people and what it’s like to be in multiple relationships with varying levels of intimacy — sex or not!

Now that we’ve defined what ethical non-monogamy is and isn’t — let’s talk about the signs that monogamy may not be the best relationship design for you (and that you may be wired for ethical non-monogamy!) Please note that this list is not comprehensive. Also, every person is wired differently, so remember to take extra care and use compassion with yourself and others when thinking about this stuff.

Signs Monogamy Isn’t Right For You

You have a history of “serial monogamy.”

A serial monogamist feels most comfortable in committed relationships. They have a series of monogamous relationships and don’t typically take breaks between relationships to be single or to casually date. This is the closest thing to ENM there is while still practicing monogamy. Usually, when a serial monogamist ends a relationship to move to another one, it is because they want to try something new and have been told that means they need to end their existing relationship. So, they do — and the pattern forms.

You’ve cheated in your past relationships.

We talked about how cheating is “bad.” Still, often when someone cheats, it’s not because they are trying to be malicious — it’s often because they are missing something in their life, acting out, processing trauma, or trying to navigate a lifestyle that is expected of them.

For example, many people who cheat while married don’t wish to be divorced — but want a casual sex partner that isn’t their life partner that they do taxes with. This is an AND. Not everyone who cheats has intention — sometimes, they just do it without thinking. If you’ve cheated in past relationships, ask yourself about your motivation. Did you want out of the relationship? What were you looking for? Was something missing in your relationship, or was it truly an AND?

You don’t think there’s one person out there that can fulfill everything you desire, want, and need.

If you’re feeling this way, it’s likely felt super confusing at times when the world is screaming monogamy at us. And I want to remind you that it’s okay to try things out in our lives and see how they feel! You don’t have to label yourself as something to try it out — you can try it on for a bit and see if it feels natural and most you. The same goes for ENM relationships!

If this is something you have been desiring, by all means, start ethically dating multiple people and exploring this part of you. What’s interesting about toxic monogamy culture is that it doesn’t realize that we already have so many people in our lives meeting different needs for us — it’s not just our partner(s). If you want this but in a romantic capacity as well — go for it! It’s out there!

You have or have had the desire to have multiple sexual and/or romantic relationships at once.

I want to put this in perspective for you — sex and romance with different people are just that, different. I’ve heard people say, “but won’t you be worried your partner will leave you if they have better sex with someone else?” There’s a lot to break down here, but firstly — no, I’m not. If what’s keeping my partner with me is solely my genitals, we have much bigger problems. Relationship foundations aren’t just based on sex and romance, AND it’s quite natural to want this kind of intimacy with multiple people.

You’ve felt the desire to explore a relationship more freely than you’ve been able to.

Have you ever met someone and immediately felt chemistry of some sort? It’s that feeling of “wow, this person needs to be in my life, and I want to know them and do things with them” — even before knowing what those things are? Yeah. Same.

Usually, we meet people in a context — we’re set up on a romantic date, or we get introduced to someone for business — we’re told the role this person could and will play in our lives before we even interact with them. If you’ve ever felt the feeling or thought, “I wish I could see what was really here between us,” sexually or romantically, you may be wired for ethical non-monogamy.

Something is missing for you — even though you adore your current partner.

One of the myths monogamy teaches us is that it’s “wrong” or “bad” if our one partner doesn’t meet all of our needs. “Well, they must not be “the one” if we feel like something is missing for us,” we’ll think or say to ourselves.

Just because you want more of something or want an AND doesn’t have to correlate with how much you love your current partner. It’s just the reality — you want more. And that is absolutely 100%, a-okay.

You believe that communication is important, emotions are valuable, and it’s worth having hard conversations to live a life you’re fulfilled with.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “Oh my goodness, okay, that’s me, I think I want to try ENM, but how do I even bring this up to my partner? Don’t worry; I’ve got you.

When approaching our partners about new desires, possibilities, or opportunities, it’s best to approach them with gentleness, curiosity, and empathy — always empathy.

It starts with AEO — acknowledge, explain, offer. Acknowledging to your partner that you understand where they are coming from helps let them know that you care about their feelings and emotions, too. Explaining and being honest about your feelings helps them see you — it also helps them know why the thing you are discussing is so important to you. Offering opportunities to your partner gives them autonomy to decide their boundaries, what they are comfortable with, and if they want to continue the current conversation.

Our partners, and any relationship for that matter, will be far more positively responsive if we approach them with an offer instead of an ultimatum.

Here are examples of how to use AEO in conversation:

A: “I know we’ve never really talked about monogamy before.”

A: “On our first date, we talked about threesomes, and since then, we haven’t really talked about monogamy.”

E: “I feel scared to talk about this concept with you.”

E: “I feel excited about the idea that we could ethically and honestly have multiple partners.”

O: “Can I share an article I found with you about this?”

O: “What I’d love to do is find a time to talk about ENM and an article I read; what do you think?”

Bottom line: Monogamy isn’t for everyone. Ethical non-monogamy isn’t for everyone.

We cannot possibly know what’s best for ourselves unless we understand what we’re choosing and that we actually have a choice. Whether you go forth and practice intentional monogamy or take a leap into mindful ENM, continue to be intentional and learn. There isn’t one right way to “do” relationships, and figuring out what aligns best for you (and your partner) is an integral part of the evolution of your relationship(s).

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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COVID Gave Me Germaphobia.

Now I’m Reclaiming My Sexuality

By Arese Sylvester

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t interested in sex. As a child, I felt a sort of morbid curiosity towards it and I recognised it as the ‘ultimate sin’. The thing that would get me a ticket straight to hell. As time passed, my curiosity shifted. I was no longer scared, just intrigued and excited.

As a queer Nigerian woman, I know firsthand the level of defiance it takes to explore sexuality. Not only because of the misogyny I have to deal with but also because finding opportunities and people to explore with is an entire battle. I revelled in my defiance though and sex soon became one of my favourite things to do. Rough sex, slow sex, edging, bondage – I tried it all.

Then the pandemic happened and like so many others I had to adjust to a different reality that involved nosy and demanding family members. It wasn’t one I liked or wanted. It made me feel like life was being sucked out of my vagina. I didn’t think it was going to be so bad. Yes, I couldn’t be with any of my sexual partners but I had my fingers and I did a good job taking care of myself. But I soon realised that masturbating wasn’t going to be entirely possible.

I am a bit of a perfectionist with my orgasms. There were a couple of details that I needed to get right if I hoped to get one. The most important was noise; I cannot orgasm if I can hear people talking. But with a family of five quarantining together, it was impossible to find personal time. I didn’t realise when I went a month without an orgasm. It was so unlike me but I brushed it off because by then I had a bigger problem.

My mother had started going back into the office because we needed the money and every time she came home, she spent almost 30 minutes disinfecting. Her paranoia was contagious and I couldn’t help but mirror her anxiety. I was helping her to wipe down our doorknobs, restocking the hand sanitiser and pinching my brother’s ears every time he tried to play with the neighbour’s kid.

In between all this, I simply did not have the energy to touch myself. This was made worse by the fact that despite my family’s best efforts, we caught COVID. The entire experience was demoralising. We had tried to do everything right yet here I was, faced with the possibility that these could be the last moments I spent with my high-risk parents. I doubled my efforts at cleaning. My attitude towards hygiene became obsessive, unnecessary and draining.

COVID-19 led to a massive change in everyone’s lifestyle and our active avoidance of germs throughout the pandemic, though necessary, has undoubtedly left many of us feeling even more anxious about germs and contamination. Among those who are predisposed to anxiety, there’s been a recorded increase in obsessions and associated compulsions.

My libido, which had been very active before the pandemic, had disintegrated and I was desperate to have it back. I wanted to feel like I had some control over this bizarre situation so I forced myself to masturbate. My first orgasm in four months was toe-curling and I had a huge smile on my face as I came down from my high.

It felt good, really good, so my tears came as a surprise to me. Why was I crying? This was something I wanted, something I’d been praying for. But this terrible voice in my head kept asking if I’d washed my hands before I began. I knew I had but the thought had been planted and I struggled to uproot it. The shortness of breath came and in my panicked state I imagined my vagina rotting because I didn’t care enough not to get germs in her. I calmed down a few minutes later but the panic attack really scared me so I decided that I wouldn’t touch myself for a while. Of course that decision didn’t make me feel better.

“When we rely on avoidance to reduce our anxiety, we do not give ourselves a chance to learn that we can tolerate our anxiety. We also continue to believe that the things we are avoiding are unsafe in some way,” says Alissa Jerud, licensed clinical psychologist and host of the Anxiety Savvy Podcast. “Our habit of avoiding gets stronger each time we avoid. Over time, we may find ourselves avoiding more and more, thus fuelling our anxiety in the long run and causing our worlds to continue to shrink.”

It’s been a year since I made that decision not to touch myself and I’ve gone on to have numerous orgasms since then. They’ve all been self-inflicted and not nearly as satisfying. Things are still not the way they were and I doubt they ever will be. I haven’t had sex in approximately six months and I haven’t had good sex for even longer. The last time I tried, I bawled in my partner’s bathroom for an hour nonstop because: What if his penis was dirty? It was irrational, partly because we’d had a bath together, but it was enough to put me off sex. There’s nothing like a panic attack and a terrified man to kill your libido.

I’ve realised that I shouldn’t have an identity crisis because I couldn’t have sex for a while. Why did I feel like I needed to jump back into having sex right after lockdown eased? The obsession with ‘going back to normal’ wasn’t healthy and I needed to address that. I felt like a child again, taking baby steps and trying to relearn intimacy.

My hypersexuality told me that I needed to be the wild, sexual person I was before the pandemic. But I don’t have to be her anymore. I can be the girl who doesn’t remember how to kiss people or touch herself. The girl who’s trying to figure out if she still likes the stuff she used to like. I can have fun rediscovering myself – and I have been.

Sexual chemistry used to be (and still is) such an important part of my attraction to a person but I’ve realised that there are other forms of intimacy and I am focused on building those first. It was easy to forget that I exist outside of the virus and that all the decisions I make don’t need to revolve around it. As long as I’m being safe, I can kiss people without feeling like I’m betraying myself.

It’s impossible to tell how this will play out for me in the future but Alissa says that fear of germs has the potential to negatively impact the mental health and wellbeing of our society. “The avoidance that this fear pulls for could easily lead to an unravelling of the social connections that we are wired to create. The more we – as a society – allow these fears to shape our post-pandemic lives, the wider their ripples will be.”

It’s a little bit hard finding my groove and going back to having sex but I’m having fun while I relearn it. I’m not the same person I was pre-pandemic, and that’s fine.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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The Real Scoop on Why Couples Stop Having Sex

The truth is, few couples come into therapy for the first meeting and tell me they are not having sex.

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Yes, it happens, but generally they start out with something else. “We’ve drifted apart”, “We’re fighting too much” – or someone had an affair.

And when sex does come up (usually because I ask about it), people do not get to the root cause right away – they tell me what’s happening on the surface, because that’s what they see every day. Here are some of the recent explanations I’ve heard from my clients.

Why people say they are not having sex:

  • We’re too busy with the kids/work and don’t have time
  • We’ve lost the spark; I’m not attracted to her/him any more
  • When we do have sex it goes well, but it’s awkward for either of us to initiate
  • I’m waiting for him/her to initiate (because I’ve been rejected too many times) and he/she never does
  • He’s obsessed with internet porn and has nothing left for me
  • I’m just not that sexual a person, I’m not interested in sex
  • It just feels like we are friends, our relationship doesn’t feel sexual

When couples stop having sex, in any of the scenarios above, there is always more to the story. My job, in part, is to help my clients see below the surface, to understand what’s causing these disturbances in the everyday reality of their relationship.

  • Someone has pulled out of the relationship. One partner, usually over the course of a year or more, has withdrawn emotionally from the relationship – he or she has one foot (or two) out the door. When this happens, it becomes very difficult for the couple to make any progress on difficult issues (like sex), because the EXIT is never far away. And for some people, one foot leads to two feet, which leads in turn to an affair or other infidelity.
  • Someone does not feel “safe” sexually. It may be that one partner has never felt safe in sexual situations – as a survivor of, or witness to, sexual abuse or violence, for example. Or perhaps they learned early on in life that other people’s needs must always come first – which makes it hard to be in touch with one’s own feelings and needs, and may lead to performance anxiety, or lack of arousal.
  • Something happened or isn’t working. Loss of sexual connection can result from an unresolved incidents or issues (sexual or not) in the current relationship, which are causing distance to grow between the partners. This is the “elephant in the room” scenario – there’s a problem, but you haven’t found a way to talk about it.
  • Drugs/alcohol. While it is true that the physiological impact alone of habitual drug or alcohol use can interfere with sexual functioning, it is usually accompanying factors – lifestyle, mood & anger regulation, conflict – that have the greatest impact on sexual relationships. This set of problems is often exacerbated by co-using and codependency factors, leading both partners to deny that there is a problem at all.
  • Medication/physical difficulties. As a mentor of mine used to say about ADHD, this category of issues is both over- and under-diagnosed. Some people are too quick to blame their sexual problems on their partner’s difficulty maintaining an erection or getting lubricated; however, this kind of issue, in isolation, can be successfully managed in the context of a connected, loving, trusting relationship. More often than not, it is the insecurities that it gives rise to that need the attention. On the other hand, it can be helpful to remember that sometimes physical arousal difficulties are a side-effect of prescription medications, or they may point to a physical problem that requires medical attention (or may be addressed relatively easily with a “performance enhancer” like Viagra, Cialis or Levitra).

When these issues are not faced directly and talked about, partners can start isolating from one another. Feeling angry, sad, hurt, disappointed, embarrassed, guilty, shameful – and believing that you have to keep it to yourself, hide it from your nearest and dearest, perhaps even from everyone, is a dreadful burden to carry and can have a big impact on your sexual desire. It will eat away at your self esteem, destabilize your moods, cause you to isolate yourself, and undermine your relationship.

So what can we do right now to start having sex again?

  1. Schedule time for it. This may sound unromantic – “Let’s meet at 2pm for some sex” – but if you two have let some time pass without addressing this issue, the chances are that you will not automatically start finding the time to deal with it. And take the pressure off about what will happen during that time – at first, it’s not even about having sex, it’s about rediscovering intimacy, finding your way back to each other.
  2. Talk about what’s happening for you. You and your partner need to find a way to open up to each other about what’s holding you back when you might be having sex, or connecting intimately in other ways. And you each need to create the space for your partner to tell her or his story.
  3. Listen openly and compassionately to what your partner is saying. Let him or her know that you have heard and understood.
  4. Start slowly, focus on building safety. Save the simultaneous orgasms for later. Get to know each other, and reveal yourselves to one another at a pace you can maintain. And don’t turn away – try to stay with the difficulty of what’s happening, try to stay connected with your partner through it.
  5. Start telling the truth. Once you start to feel more comfortable entering into an intimate space with each other, start telling the truth – to yourself and your partner – about what turns you on, what you want, and what you don’t want.

Remember, this is not just about getting what you want, or giving it to your partner. It’s also about finding the sweet spot between you, where you both feel good about the giving and the getting.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Is there really a major gender mismatch when it comes to the best time to have sex?

When do you prefer to get romantic?

By

What’s the best time of day to have sex?

Your answer might depend on your gender – and, if you’re in a heterosexual relationship, you may find it doesn’t match up with your partner’s.

That’s according to a survey that found that the peak time for women is 10pm, right before they go to bed, while men prefer to have sex first thing in the morning, at 7.30am.

As if we didn’t already have enough to contend with when it comes to mismatched sex drives, apparently we also have to navigate a 14-hour difference in the time we’d like to get intimate. Great stuff.

This claimed difference means that, according to the study, 64% of women and 38% of men say they sometimes have sex when they don’t really feel like it.

Jessica Leoni, sex and relationships expert at Illicit Encounters, who commissioned the survey of 2,000 people, said: ‘This new research shows that there are big differences in sex o’clock between the sexes.

‘Men are ready for sex before breakfast, whereas women most want passion last thing at night.

‘This creates big problems for some couples who get out of the habit of having sex regularly and drift apart.’

Jessica goes on to say that this could be the cause of affairs, but as a representative for an an extramarital dating site, she would suggest that.

Rather than throwing our hands up in the air at these findings and declaring ourselves doomed, it’s worth looking a little deeper.

Compromise and working around your schedules is a good approach

For one thing, while the morning may have been chosen as the best time to have sex by the majority of men, that’s only by a tiny margin – 31% of men in the survey picked 6am, while 25% chose between 9pm and 12pm.

That means that women’s ‘peak’ time is men’s very close second choice.

And men’s ‘peak’ time comes in third preferred for women.

We’re not so different after all…

While it’s easy to simplify any differences in the optimal sex time to gender alone – men have morning wood, women like to get cosy before sleep, for example – it feels far more likely that the best time to have sex is very much down to the rest of our schedules.

Yes, perhaps men might tend to be aroused in the morning, but if they have an early start requiring a manic rush from shower to breakfast, that’s likely to take precedence.

Equally, perhaps those who chose 9pm to 12pm as the best time to get romantic did so not because of some kind of internal clock, but because this is the time all the day’s tasks are done and they can actually relax.

The answer, as with so many issues to do with sex and relationships, is likely adapting and comprimising.

The adapting bit will depend on your day-to-day lives. A previous survey by Superdrug found that the most popular times of the week for couples in the UK to have sex are Saturday and Sunday mornings and Friday and Saturday nights – because our schedules change up at the weekends and allow more free time.

It might be worth scheduling sex for times when you know both you and your partner can properly enjoy the moment.

Then, compromise. You might think that 6am on a Tuesday is the best time to have sex, but do you also fancy it at 9pm, which happens to be your other half’s preference?

You might have one ideal time to get some loving, but realistically, your sex drive is unlikely to have a strict time limit. Try out different times and do it when it works for you, rather than holding out for one ascribed ‘peak’.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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A Quarter Century With HIV and Thriving Sexually

By Alex Garner

One of my greatest fears after testing HIV-positive was that I would never have sex again. Fear had been a constant presence in my sex life even when I was HIV-negative, and now that I was positive that fear transformed into something else. Then it unexpectedly dissipated. Living with HIV allowed me to explore and deepen my sexuality in a way I had never anticipated. For many of us, the 40-year pandemic has affected all facets of our sex lives, but we can continue to prioritize the pursuit of pleasure and intimacy.

After 25 years of living with HIV, I felt it was time to reflect on the impact it’s had on my sex life. HIV was always incidental to my life. I was scared of getting HIV even before I first had sex. For me, like many gay and bi men (and trans women) of my generation, HIV was not a matter of if. It was simply a matter of when.

Soon after my diagnosis, I experienced a surprising sense of liberation when I realized I never had to worry about getting HIV again. Of course, having HIV came with a set of fears, but they were tangible, not some ominous specter haunting all facets of my sex life. I was 23 and my sexuality was still evolving, so a new sense of liberation allowed me to embrace it in a way I never thought possible when I was consumed with fear of HIV.

The absence of fear finally allowed me to concentrate on pleasure and understanding my relationship with sex. I could experiment and explore in all sorts of ways. I had the opportunity to meet other guys living with HIV who were on a similar journey.

We fostered a sense of community from our shared experiences. We were gay and bi men living with HIV who dared to cultivate a satisfying sexuality amid that pandemic. This led to the creation of social groups, sex parties, and bareback hookup sites, all catering to those living with HIV. And that was all before the advent of U=U (the knowledge that those who are on treatment and undetectable are unable to transmit HIV). Our mutual positive diagnoses countered any concerns of transmission. 

My new sexual frontier was teeming with opportunities, but it also meant navigating stigma and fear within our community. There are persistent and insidious beliefs that people living with HIV are “stupid,” “reckless,” or “whores.” (Studies show none of that is true.) The advent of gay dating apps made it easier to find other poz guys, but it also meant dealing with explicit HIV-phobia in men’s profiles with requests like, “Clean, UB2.” Having to regularly confront stigma can have a profound impact on one’s mental health and sex life.

There is also the structural stigma that still needs to be dealt with, such as HIV criminalization. In the U.S., over 30 states still criminalize HIV in some way. It’s difficult to overstate the detrimental impact of such policies. For many, fear of arrest and prosecution infects all parts of their sex lives.

Gay men living with HIV have had to cultivate a sexuality while encountering stigma, rejection, and criminalization. We’ve also had to navigate feelings of guilt and shame around our status. Yet through it all, we persist. We pursue a fulfilling sex life and explore meaningful connections between HIV-positive men, and in doing so, create a sense of community.

Gay men must be reminded that being HIV-positive does not mean giving up one’s sexuality. We can value, invest in, and cultivate a pleasurable and satisfying sexuality. Our sex has meaning and value, and it’s one of the reasons we’ve been able to endure four decades of a global pandemic.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!