4 Essential Dates Every Couple Needs To Have

By Mark Travers

“If you’re too busy for date night, you’re too busy.” These are the words of Drs. John and Julie Gottman, renowned researchers, therapists and marriage counselors. While they suggest there are multiple factors that contribute to a thriving marriage, they place particular emphasis on the role of date nights.

According to their 2019 novel, Eight Dates: Essential Conversations for a Lifetime of Love, there are eight conversation-focused dates that every couple should have in their relationship; in fact, they consider them essential. As they explain, “And the big secret to creating a love that lasts and grows over time is simple. Make dedicated, non-negotiable time for each other a priority, and never stop being curious about your partner.”

Here’s a breakdown of the first four dates, including their suggestions on how to plan them out.

1. Lean On Me—Trust And Commitment

The first date should be focused on trust and commitment. They emphasize the importance of this date by reminding us that “In a relationship, commitment is a choice we make every single day, over and over again,” and that we should continue to “choose it even when we are tired and overworked and stressed out.”

  • Suggestions. One partner should plan this date to surprise the other, simply saying, “Trust me.” You could even take it a step further by blindfolding them, and physically guide them to the location.
  • Location. The Gottmans recommend the in-charge partner to “find an elevated location with a great view,” where both can sit while having a conversation. “If possible,” they say, “make this first date location somewhere that is meaningful to your love story.”
  • Conversation topic. The purpose of this date is to discuss what trust and commitment looks like in your relationship. How can you make each other feel safe? What are the agreements you share in your relationship about trust and commitment? Think about what trust looked like in your families of origin, and compare it to what it looks like in your relationship—even in the small ways you show it to each other.
  • What to bring/prepare. The Gottmans recommend couples to bring an open mind. Avoid blaming each other during tough parts of the conversation; remember to ask questions, to be honest and to see one another’s differences as opportunities to learn more about each other.
  • Post-date affirmations. After your date, take turns reading this affirmation to one another—maintaining full eye-contact: “I commit to choosing you each and every day and to showing you that our relationship is a priority. I also commit to having seven more dates and conversations.”

2. Agree To Disagree—Addressing Conflict

The second date should be focused on how you, as partners, address conflict in your relationship. While this may seem like an unusual date, the Gottmans advise discussing conflict management outside of actual fights, “as the best time to discuss conflict is not in the middle of a heated argument.”

  • Suggestions. The partner that wasn’t in charge of the first date should be responsible for the second date. Preferably, this date should be during a time where neither partner is tired or low on energy; you’ll want to be in the best mood possible, and ready to face whatever comes up head-on.
  • Location. Host this date in an area in which you’ll have privacy, like your favorite park bench, a secluded area of a beach or even just in your backyard. A great suggestion from the Gottmans, however, is to have this date during a walk; even if the conversation gets stuck, you’ll have to keep moving. Ideally, the date should happen in a spot you both associate with happy memories.
  • Conversation topic. The purpose of this date is to do a deep dive on the ways that conflict is managed in your relationship. How do you both differ in this regard, and how are you similar? How do you negotiate these differences?
  • What to bring/prepare. Be ready to discuss the aforementioned differences—without judgment or regret. Importantly, don’t avoid whatever conflict might arise; power through it, communicate unconditional acceptance of one another and do your best to recognize when a problem is or isn’t solvable.
  • Post-date affirmations. After your second date, take turns to read this promise to one another: “I commit to accepting you completely and embracing our differences. When we have conflict, I’ll seek to understand your feelings and point of view about the issue, and will manage our conflict as skillfully as possible. When regrettable incidents happen, I’ll seek to repair the damage through the process we have discussed.”

3. Let’s Get It On—Sex And Intimacy

Your third date is where you’ll focus on the state of sex and intimacy within your relationships. As the Gottmans explain, “We all want to keep our relationship passionate and connected, and there are ways to both create and destroy your connection that all take place out of the bedroom.” They note, however, that “What’s most important is not to let sex become the last item on a very long to-do list, the final obligation you turn to when you’re both exhausted.”

  • Suggestions. Both partners can take the reins on this date, as the goal is for it to be as “romantic and seductive as possible.” Sexiness, as the Gottmans explain, is key here; tell each other exactly what to wear, or you could even go so far as to lay each other’s outfit out for one another.
  • Location. This date should involve a candlelit dinner; it could be at your favorite restaurant, or (perhaps a better suggestion) somewhere much more private. The Gottmans suggest locations “such as a cove in a beach or a hidden corner of a public garden.” A physical aspect to the date—such as a dance class, some yoga or stretches—can also be a great way to prompt yourselves to get in tune with your bodies.
  • Conversation topic. This date should center around all things intimacy, romance, fantasy and sex related. What do you both envision and want sex to look like in your relationship? What rituals (whether sexual or generally intimacy-related) do you like, dislike or hope to start? Is sex something you’re comfortable discussing—and if so, why or why not? How can you work together to enhance passion and closeness in your partnership?
  • What to bring/prepare. You’ll both have to be brave, vulnerable and open-minded for this one. Remember to be as specific as possible in conveying your likes and dislikes, avoid comparing your current sex life to past ones, and to always be open-minded when you’re both discussing turn-ons and -offs.
  • Post-date affirmations. Conclude this date by taking turns to read this affirmation out loud to one another: “I commit to creating our own romantic rituals for connection, and creating more passion outside of the bedroom by expressing my affection and love for you. I commit to having a 6-second kiss every time we say goodbye or hello to each other for the next week. I commit to discussing, exploring and renewing our sexual relationship.”

4. The Cost Of Love—Work And Money

“Work can take up nearly as much of our time, energy and ability to commit as our relationship,” explain the Gottmans—which is why it’s important to focus on this topic during your fourth date. “In fact,” they continue, “work can often be the ‘third party’ in a relationship.” Thus, thoroughly discussing career and finances is nearly, if not as, important as talking about commitment, trust, conflict and sex.

  • Suggestions. The Gottmans suggest spending as little money as possible for this date, if any at all. Sweetly, they recommend couples to consider what their dates looked like before coming into wealth or money.
  • Location. As they explain, “You should go to any place that makes you feel comfortable, wealthy or rich in some way, however you define those things.” This could be the lobby of a 5-star hotel, or it could be a blanket on the floor of your living-room. The key here is to be creative. “Discuss the questions over lunch at home from your favorite take-out restaurant,” is another suggestion they make; “Dress thoughtfully. Use the good china. Pamper yourselves with at-home luxury.”
  • Conversation topic. The purpose of this date is to explore the many ways you both bring value to the relationship. What does it mean to “have enough money” for both of you? What are your histories with work and money? What contributions to the relationship (paid or unpaid) do you appreciate about one another? How do you both feel about work, and the ways it impacts your relationship?
  • What to bring/prepare. Note that this date should not be a conversation about numbers; come prepared to discuss what money means for you both, not the state of your finances. Refrain from minimizing one another’s work stress or values regarding money, and remember to allow yourselves to dream big in this regard. Importantly, be honest about your respective do’s, don’ts and must’s when it comes to wealth and finances.
  • Post-date affirmations. End this date off by reading this affirmation to one another: “I commit to respecting your values around money and work, and working together toward a shared financial goal.”

Complete Article HERE!

I stopped having sex like a capitalist

— You should try it

“Now, at 29, with years of orgasm-chasing one night stands, toxic relationships and unlearning under my belt, I think I finally get it.”

By Laura Roscioli

I used to have so much energy for all kinds of sex. One night stands. Crazy kinks. All-nighters with an unexpected participant. Couples, friends, people from the internet. I think it was because it was all a bit of a mystery. I was figuring out what I liked, my sexuality, my boundaries. But I was also figuring out what it meant to be a sexual woman in a male dominated world. I was in an era of understanding how my sexuality could be empowering, rather than something that decreases my value.

I feel we’re not really told enough about sex, especially as women. We’re not taught to ask for what we want, we’re not really sure what the norm is… we just feel a lot of pressure to look a certain way and be into certain things, without asking ‘why?’. It was a lot to learn but it gave me the energy to engage with sex in a somewhat surface-level and self-focused way.

As I’ve grown into myself, my relationship with sex has changed so much. I don’t have the energy for sex that doesn’t make me feel safe and grounded. I very rarely feel that animalistic desire to consume sex to satiate a need to figure it – and myself – out, because I’m not aiming for this unachievable pinnacle of orgasm anymore. It’s not a mystery I need to solve to have good sex. But it used to be.

Back in my one night stand days, orgasms felt like the headline act. That everything I — and the person I was in bed with — did, was in the lead up to the orgasm. There were different ways to get there, of course, but really, sex was all about cumming.

It’s a lot of pressure to fully let go and have a wild, mind-bending experience in an intimate setting with someone you hardly know, in the unquestioned effort to reach an orgasm. But it’s always been part of the criteria of doing sex ‘successfully’.

“We’ve come to define ‘good sex’ as achieving an orgasm mostly through the way sex is sold to us,” says sex therapist, Aleks Trkulja. “We’ll often see porn, film and TV scenes that portray a ‘good’ sexual experience as one where people are ejaculating and orgasming.”

Aleks thinks there’s an element of capitalist mentality within it too, where even in sex, we have to “always be producing and achieving and if we’re not, we feel that somehow we’ve failed”. This rings so true to my early experiences with sex. If I wasn’t able to cum or, worse still, I wasn’t able to make the person I was intimate with cum, I felt like I hadn’t done it right.

“There’s this deeply entrenched capitalist attitude, even within a space like sex, that truthfully has no real agenda or criteria of what it should and shouldn’t look like. This pressure is damaging and creates performance anxiety.”

This is why sex can feel stressful. It’s like we’re working towards this goal we don’t really understand and it actually takes us out of the moment and into our heads, making the experience less enjoyable.

And it also becomes boring over time. If each time you have sex with someone new, you’re trying to achieve that same thing in a different way, it can feel predictable. Like, not this again! Not another night of me wondering if I’m good enough at giving blowjobs because they didn’t orgasm from it. Not another night of feeling someone figure out how they’re best going to conquer my body and give me “the best orgasm” I’ve ever had.

By the time I was single again after my previous long-term relationship, I was so done with all of that. I didn’t feel horny for sex unless it was going to be a relaxing, fun and energising experience. To me, that was what I’d come to decide good sex was.

Aleks defines good sex as “a sexually intimate experience you have with consenting adults, where you feel safe and your pleasure is prioritised”. A space that has allowed you to have “an embodied, grounded, enjoyable and curious time”.

“That definition is really important,” she says.  “A lot of people assume good sex means you had multiple orgasms, your dick was rock hard the entire time etc. And it actually has very little to do with function and more to do with how safe and present you feel in your body. That you’re enjoying what you’re doing with yourself or with other people.”

Now, at 29, with years of orgasm-chasing one night stands, toxic relationships and unlearning under my belt, I think I finally get it.

You could literally just be lying down with someone, your clothes off and being stroked in a way that makes you tingle all over: that is good sex. If you’re able to create an environment that makes you feel sexually attuned with yourself, where you feel able to explore free of judgment, where you feel turned on without having to think too hard, where your curiosity and comfort, like Aleks said, is more at the forefront of your mind than your orgasm-count; that is good sex.

“Because we live in a culture and society that deeply conditions us with very intense attitudes around sex that are often embedded within shame, it can be a really difficult process to unlearn your sexual attitudes and beliefs,” says Aleks. “It’s really normal to need professional help, often because the people around you haven’t done that work and you’ll constantly be faced with those beliefs.”

However, if we want to feel empowered and energised by sex, it’s important to redefine what pleasure means to us.

“You need to learn to be present in your body and find pleasure and joy in your body, in a way that is not defined by goal-oriented achievements,” she says. “So not: I orgasmed – therefore I achieved good sex, but rather; I felt pleasure in my body, I felt safe in my body, I was curious in my body. That is good enough. It’s pleasurable.”

These feelings need to become the new indicators for what is a sexually satisfying experience – not the big ‘O’.

Complete Article HERE!

The Sexiest Year of My Life Involved Zero Sex

By Melissa Febos

A friend confided to me recently that she was burned out on dating. Cruising the apps in midlife felt humiliating, and she repeatedly confronted the same obstacles in her relationships.

I told her I had faced similar challenges, until I spent a year intentionally celibate. She pointed out that a year was a long time to live without intimacy. I assured her that abstaining from sex for a year was not only the best thing I ever did for my romantic prospects, it was also the most erotic year of my life.

Let me explain. Mostly, I mean erotic in the capacious sense: the sensual, embodied, vital, empowered aspects of beingness, what the writer Audre Lorde referred to as “an assertion of the life force of women; of that creative energy empowered.” Hildegard of Bingen, the sainted German nun and mystic polymath born in 1098, called it viriditas: the fecund, wet, greening power of life. But, I also do mean the explicitly physical and the sexual.

When I was in my mid-30s, a relationship in which I had completely lost myself came to a terrible end. In the merciful quiet that followed, I realized that I had been in nonstop romantic partnerships since my midteens. Over the years, friends had suggested I take some time alone, but even when I tried, my sights always locked onto someone new.

This time, I decided to take the endeavor more seriously. I would spend three months abstinent. Did my friends laugh at me? Yes, of course. I knew 90 days without sex was ridiculous to some but also that for me it was a radical decision. Quickly, I realized that my problem — that is, my preoccupation — was less sexual in nature than romantic. Even with sex and dating off the table, I had plenty left to occupy me in the realm of flirting and fantasizing.

I decided to extend my celibacy for another three months and draw some strict boundaries: no romantic activity at all. No charged friendships, no scanning the party or the street or the waiting room for the people I found attractive.

The air quality in my life changed, as if I’d opened a window. I could breathe easier. My pulse slowed. I noticed more, from the sensations of my own body to the changing light as days progressed. I hadn’t known how much energy and attention it took to be in love or looking for it.

After long consideration, I decided that my celibacy could permit masturbation. Indulging in too much of it had never been my problem. I did not compulsively seek my own physical pleasure, but more so the satisfactions of pleasing others. Even when I enjoyed it, sex had usually included some element of performance that distanced me from my own body. In both casual and long-term relationships, I often had sex when I didn’t want to. By contrast, my experience of self-pleasure had always been and remained utterly unselfconscious, never reluctant. It felt like a remedy to all the ambivalent entanglements of my past.

As the weeks passed, every aspect of my life sharpened. The delights of sleeping and waking alone, not speaking to another soul until I chose. In the absence of romantic pursuit, I came to appreciate the true love of my friendships. I had many profound and yearslong connections with other women that had evolved more complexly than those with any lover. We had weathered conflicts and seen one another through enormous changes. These relationships were characterized by a deep tenderness and mutual acceptance that I had sometimes taken for granted. Not anymore.

When I was caught in my ceaseless patterns of attachment, I could not see how it governed every aspect of my life. There were a myriad of micro-adjustments I made to accommodate the desires (sometimes only imagined!) of my partners. Little facts about myself or my days that I elided. Creative or social time that I cut short because I worried they’d feel neglected. Foods that I ate or did not according to my partners’ preferences. Subtle calibrations of my style or speech to appeal to their tastes.

Of course, some accommodation is organic to primary relationships. We make compromises and grow synchronized with our partners in both unconscious and conscious ways. But not everyone does in the way I tended to: a silent compulsion that incrementally warped my life into a shape that did not match my true self.

When my three celibate months became six I decided to keep going, without a deadline this time. I had begun to trust myself more. I had also come to know my own body as never before. Each day brought new opportunities to observe my physical experience unmediated by another person and their desires. I began eating different foods — only what I most wanted, when I was most hungry: plates of pickles and cheese at night or soup for breakfast.

My own comfort and taste became my primary guides, and I began­­ wearing sneakers instead of heels, and watched only TV shows featuring surly female detectives. I went for long, languorous runs without my phone and took frequent naps. I found a new enthusiasm for the college classes that I taught. I was not perpetually distracted by the daily permutations of a romantic life and so brought more of myself into every room, every activity, every conversation.

During my celibate period, I undertook the project of making an inventory of all my past relationships. I wanted to study their contours and observe my own patterns in the hope of changing them. I had always thought of myself as someone who wanted to be a good partner, an agreeable person. I hated conflict and avoided it, because some desperate part of me felt that to be the object of another’s disappointment or resentment would amount to a kind of death. It turned out that avoidance — of conflict and, ultimately, truth — was itself a kind of death.

My relationship history also made clear that I had not succeeded at pleasing very many of my former partners. I would perform this self-pretzeling for a while, and then I would fill with an irresistible urge to leave them. Who wants to live in a knot? My fear of conflict made for ungraceful breakups. As a wise friend once said to me, “People pleasing is people using.”

I saw how much energy I had consolidated inside my romantic life. By removing that option, my sensual relationship to all the other aspects of my life deepened. Ultimately, after about a year, it led to a more engaged sexual life, too.

When I did start a new relationship, I understood clearly what I desired and what patterns I did not want to continue. I articulated early on that I needed a lot of alone time, and described what I liked and didn’t in bed. That celibate year was the beginning of truly enthusiastic sexual consent in my intimate relationships. What had been implicit in the past became explicit. It is no coincidence that the first person I dated seriously after my celibacy is now my wife. I am so grateful that we did not meet before I was ready.

I don’t mean to suggest that spending some time intentionally celibate will guarantee you a happy marriage, only that it might offer a space to contemplate what sort of love you want and how to ready yourself for it. And whatever the future brings, you might just have the sexiest year of your life.

Complete Article HERE!

6 Books About Nonmonogamy

— These titles can offer insight, whether you’re polycurious or already exploring.

By Hope Reese

When Mel Cassidy first became curious about nonmonogamy, there weren’t many helpful resources. Most of the books focused on the transition from monogamy to nonmonogamy, but Cassidy, who goes by them/them pronouns, was “freshly divorced, hadn’t really dated as an adult.”

“I was winging it,” said Cassidy, who has since become a relationship coach who specializes in consensual nonmonogamy.

Recently, however, there has been an explosion of literature on the topic, including books about polyamory and other types of open relationships. And more people are interested, too: A 2023 Pew Research survey found that 51 percent of adults under 30 considered open marriages “acceptable,” and a 2016 study of single adults in the United States has shown that more than 20 percent have experimented with some form of consensual nonmonogamy.

But even as these relationship styles become more common, there are lots of details to figure out. Partners have to decide on the approach that works best for them. There are also sexual and emotional concerns to parse when bringing new partners into the mix, said Shadeen Francis, a sex and relationship therapist based in Philadelphia.

Good books can help nonmonogamous partners “develop compassion or positive empathy for one another,” said Marie Thouin, a dating and relationship coach and researcher based in the San Francisco Bay Area. They can remind you that “you’re not alone in your choice,” she added.

We spoke to more than a dozen relationship experts and researchers for their book recommendations — whether you’re in a nonmonogamous relationship or interested in exploring.

The book cover for "Polysecure" by Jessica Fern is yellow with white circles behind the text.

1. Polysecure by Jessica Fern

Insecurity often crops up in nonmonogamous relationships, Dr. Thouin said, and this title from 2020 addresses it through the lens of attachment theory, which examines how early relationships shape adult connections, especially romantic ones.

“It’s the first book I give to people,” said Michael Grey, a relationship therapist based in Irvine, Calif. Beyond helping people become more secure, he said, it also addresses how trauma can affect your love life. Your experience with trauma can influence how safe you feel within a relationship, he said, “especially in the context of nonmonogamy or polyamory.”

Ms. Fern’s book emphasizes that we have to work on our bonds, even when they’re spread among multiple partners. We shouldn’t “take each other for granted or go on autopilot,” Cassidy said. This is important, they said, because, ultimately, “it doesn’t matter what your attachment style is; what matters is how you choose to show up.”

The book cover of "The Ethical Slut" by Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy is black on top and purple at the bottom. There is a graphic of four silhouetted people holding hands at the bottom.

2. The Ethical Slut by Janet W. Hardy and Dossie Easton

For Elyssa Helfer, a marriage therapist and sex therapist based in Los Angeles — and for many other experts — this book, published in 1997, was the first one they encountered on nonmonogamy. It “offers a comprehensive look at not just what nonmonogamy is, but how it can be practiced,” Dr. Helfer said, with a “big emphasis on consent and safety.”

The advice in this book, which presents tools for working through jealousy, applies to both those who are new to nonmonogamy and those who have been practicing it for a while.

It also “encourages people to explore their sexuality freely without guilt, shame or repression,” said Dr. Grey, helping people shed the stigma of having more than one romantic partner. “It’s about how to build trust and maintain integrity in your relationships,” he said.

The book cover for "Monogamy? In This Economy?" by Laura Boyle is dark purple with yellow text.

3. Monogamy? In this Economy? by Laura Boyle

Ms. Boyle presents lots of good advice for addressing practical challenges that often arise when polyamorous partners are living with one another, said Kathy Labriola, a nurse and counselor in Berkeley, Calif.

Published in 2024, the book offers “the pragmatic side of things,” said Sam Allen, a clinical assistant professor at the Family Institute at Northwestern University. It can help readers think through choices like which partners live together and how to parent children, he said.

Though complications can arise, Ms. Boyle highlights the benefits of nonmonogamy, Dr. Labriola said. “Living with multiple adults means that the family has more people contributing income,” she said.

The book cover of Opening Up by Tristan Taormino features of photo of two people holding hands. The background color is a gradient of orange to white.

4. Opening Up by Tristan Taormino

For anyone who wants to explore more about the ethics of nonmonogamy, this is a great pick, Ms. Francis said. “Opening Up,” first published in 2008, examines topics like “disclosing your number of partners, your sexual health status, how you handle sexual health and how you introduce additional partners into your dynamic,” she explained.

Meant for couples who want to move beyond their dyad, the book is broken into three parts that tackle creating a relationship style and dynamic you want and sustaining it long term, said Jeremy Shub, a sex coach and educator based in Berlin.

“It’s not dogmatic or shaming, but offers a lot of invitations for reflections,” said Ms. Francis, who added that it’s a great book to read with your partner.

The book cover for "Love's Not Colorblind" by Kevin Patterson is black with white text. The word "color" is in rainbow colors.

5. Love’s Not Color Blind by Kevin Patterson

Mr. Patterson is an educator who launched Poly Role Models, a series of interviews that highlight people’s experiences with polyamory. His 2018 book is a “brilliant sociological commentary,” exploring issues of race in nonmonogamous communities, said Dr. Helfer, who listed it as required reading for one of her courses.

“Stories about nonmonogamy tend to focus on young, fairly wealthy or middle-class white, cisgender people, in particular, and white heterosexual people,” Ms. Francis said. “To see yourself reflected in a narrative that is outside of that,” she added, “is an invitation to consider the ways that race and ethnicity and identity impact the ways that we date, the ways that we build communities, the ways that we love, and the ways that we create relationships.”

The book cover for "Multiamory" by Dedeker Winston, Jase Lindgren, and Emily Sotelo Matlak is purple with a graphic of a wrench holding a heart behind the text.

6. Multiamory by Dedeker Winston, Jase Lindgren and Emily Sotelo Matlack

Written in 2023 by three educators who host the “Multiamory” podcast, this book addresses common issues that pop up in the early stages of nonmonogamy, Ms. Francis said. For example, many couples deal with logistical challenges like time management, which can be addressed by using shared calendars, she said.

The advice found in “Multiamory” extends beyond nonmonogamous relationships, offering “good communication tools for all relationships,” Cassidy said. The authors provide formulas and “microscripts,” that couples can use to talk about issues that arise. A script can be “really helpful in having difficult conversations,” Cassidy explained. “It can empower you with a little more courage.”

Complete Article HERE!

Categories

Seven Ways to Love Better

— Reading some 200,000 love stories has taught me a few lessons about love and life. Here are the ones that help me most.

By Daniel Jones

Two decades ago, on Oct. 31, 2004, a short note appeared on the front page of this newspaper along with stories about Yasir Arafat’s health and the looming election between George W. Bush and John Kerry. It read: “Modern Love: Introducing a new weekly column about love and relationships. Today, Steve Friedman says he is just fine after getting dumped. Just fine. Really.”

So began my long, strange trip editing Modern Love, talking to strangers every week about the most intimate details of their romantic, familial and platonic entanglements — and then publishing their stories for hundreds of thousands or even millions of readers.

I never dreamed I would still be doing this job 20 years and some 200,000 submissions later, but it has been a wonderful run. Over time, with the help of my colleague, Miya Lee, Modern Love has grown to include a podcast, books, live performances, another weekly column of 100-word Tiny Love Stories, and television shows in the United States, India, Japan and the Netherlands.

Modern Love began the same year as Facebook, three years before iPhones, eight years before Tinder, and 11 years before same-sex marriage became legal nationwide. The world has changed a lot in two decades, and my life changed, too. When this column started, I was 41, married for 12 years, with two children in grade school. Now I am 61, separated for three years, my two children having long left home for jobs and lives of their own.

I published hundreds of stories about separation, divorce, online dating and blended families without ever thinking they might one day apply to me.

I read tens of thousands of essays about the death of a loved one without having experienced that myself — until earlier this year when my father died.

Millions of readers have been helped by the many raw and inspiring stories of people trying to grow and change after a relationship’s end. Now those stories are helping me.

Recently I joked to my friend and Modern Love podcast host Anna Martin that this column has become like a 401(k) plan for me — only it’s an annuity of life lessons. For all these years I poured my ideas, skills and heart into this column, and now it’s giving back, not in dollars but in hard-earned wisdom. Good thing there’s no penalty for early withdrawals.

Here I present — with gratitude to this column’s wise, brave and generous writers — the seven lessons that have helped me most.

Love is more like a basketball than a vase.

Relationships involve conflicts that can lead either to intimacy or distance, to bonding or rupturing, depending on how you handle them. How you negotiate conflict may prove to be the single most important indicator of your compatibility.

I have never been comfortable with conflict, but I’m trying to get better at it. Which is why Thomas Hooven’s 2013 essay, “Nursing a Wound in an Appropriate Setting,” affected me so deeply. Thomas was like me in many ways, thinking a romantic relationship was supposed to be a refuge from conflict, not a source of it. He and his fiancée had both emerged from difficult childhoods to find peace with each other, but anything other than peace felt threatening.

His fiancée, perhaps sensing the fragility of this dynamic, broke off their engagement just three weeks before their wedding, devastating him.

Off Thomas went to his medical residency in pediatrics, which became his boot camp in learning the complexities and dark corners of love. He emerged more fully human, and stronger.

“By the time I met my wife,” he writes, “I was a changed man and a real doctor. And our love developed differently from any I had experienced before. Less like a crystal vase, more like a basketball, our relationship is made for bouncing — for the good and sometimes rough play that modern professional lives generate. We do have fights (oh, yes, we do), but they do not threaten our foundation. They deepen it.”

The most popular Modern Love article of all time, “The 36 Questions That Lead to Love,” has been read by more than 75 million people. Nothing I have (or will ever) put out into the world will effect more positive change than that short article.

My hope is that most readers absorbed the simple truth that being curious about people you meet is far more seductive than talking about your accomplishments. The most common complaint I hear (by far) about bad first dates is of people droning on about themselves and not asking questions. So skip the self-promotion. Be curious instead. If you need prompts, here are 36 of them.

Be present, especially with your loved ones.

My son is 26, but when he was a little boy, I used to read to him every night, the two of us curled up in a big chair, as I had done with my daughter before him. In his case, though, I had read his favorite books so many times that he learned to recite them from memory as I flipped the pages, even though he didn’t yet know how to read.

I wish I could go back to that time. The paradox of early parenthood is that it can be as stressful as it is joyful, and you often need to push yourself to relax into those precious moments.

Chris Huntington, in his essay, “Learning to Measure Time in Love and Loss,” writes about a having a similar routine with his son, with the twist that every night they also share their best and worst moments of the day. One night, preoccupied with his litany of worries, Chris realizes something is missing, and says, “We forgot to do best and worst moments. What was your best moment of the day?”

“This is, Daddy,” his son says, nudging his chin into his father’s shoulder. “This is.”

Tears sprung from my eyes the first time I read that line, and I never forgot its lesson: Be in the moment. Stop thinking about the future or the past, about what may or may not happen, and put away your phone. If a child in your lap asks about the best part of your day, say, “This is.”

Write well, love well.

The editor in me has noticed over time that the qualities of good personal writing — honesty, generosity, open-mindedness, curiosity, humor and humility — are the same as the qualities of someone with whom you would want to have a relationship.

Likewise, the qualities of bad personal writing — dishonesty, withholding, blame, pettiness, dismissiveness and egotism — are the same as the qualities of someone with whom you would not want to have a relationship.

This does not mean that good writers have good relationships or that bad writers have bad relationships. It does mean that you should strive to be honest, generous, open-minded, curious, funny and humble both in writing and in love.

Always lead with empathy.

This is simple to state, hard to practice. But I think often of a former Canadian soldier, Benjamin Hertwig, whose essay, “In the Waiting Room of Estranged Spouses,” chronicles his discovery that his wife was having an affair.

They separate, and in seeking help, Benjamin finds himself in a psychologist’s waiting room with the wife of his ex’s lover, a woman named Catherine. Incredibly, she has an appointment to see the same psychologist around the same time for the same reason. Catherine has a toddler son, and Benjamin ends up hanging out with them and feeling close to the boy. But he remains angry and bitter about the affair.

One day he encounters his ex-wife’s lover in the grocery store, a man he has hated and had nightmares about. But nothing much happens. The other guy meekly asks if he wants to have a beer and talk about it, which Benjamin scoffs at. But as he writes, “I couldn’t summon any real anger. He was just a young boy’s tired father. He wasn’t even unkind.”

“In the months that followed,” he continues, “thinking of my ex-wife’s lover as that sweet boy’s father was somehow very helpful for me. I had held Catherine’s boy, felt the good weight of his body, and eventually I learned that it’s hard to hate a person when that person was a part of bringing something good into the world.”

A compatibility question on a dating app asks if you would choose to live forever if you could. Many people say yes, which always surprises me: Have they considered what living forever would mean? Nothing that’s limitless can be precious. Life and love are fleeting, which is why we hold onto them so dearly.

This point was driven home by Alisha Gorder in “One Bouquet of Fleeting Beauty, Please,” in which she writes about the flower shop where she worked in Portland, Ore. Alisha ruminates on the meaning of flowers at special occasions — weddings, funerals — and how they lose their petals and shrivel so quickly. Why do we treasure flowers, she wonders? Why not something that lasts?

Then Alisha tells us what this story is really about, that her high school boyfriend died by suicide when she was 18, leaving her to make sense of who he was and what they had together. She finds solace in understanding that it’s not that flowers (and love) are beautiful and fleeting; they’re beautiful because they are fleeting. Meaning we must cherish them in the moment, knowing they can’t last. As she puts it, upon seeing a wash of flower petals littering the ground: “How startlingly beautiful impermanence can be.”

There is no rule that a relationship must last a certain amount of time to count as a “success,” just as one that ends hasn’t necessarily “failed.” Every relationship we have, short or long, can be good, essential, even transformative, and have lasting value.

In “The 12-Hour Goodbye,” Miriam Johnson was struggling to get over a breakup. Her boyfriend was leaving her for reasons she couldn’t understand, despite the two of them talking it through for 12 straight hours. She thought they had been so good together. Their relationship had stoked in her a passion to pursue work involving animal welfare. After their split, she stumbled into an opportunity to do so, which helped her restart her life. But she couldn’t get over her ex.

“It’s been a year since we broke up,” she says to her therapist. “I thought my dream job and exercise would heal me, but I still think about him every day. What more can I do to let go?”

“You’re asking the wrong question,” her therapist replies. “It’s not about getting over and letting go. It’s about honoring what happened. You met a person who awoke something in you. A fire ignited. The work is to be grateful. Grateful every day that someone crossed your path and left a mark on you.”

Complete Article HERE!

Stories That Changed Lives

— For 20 years, Modern Love has recorded people’s lives. The column has also had real-life reverberations on readers.

By

“So what have you learned about love?” people often ask when they find out I’m an editor of Modern Love.

“Oh, you know,” I say, “a lot.” Or, “Most clichés are accurate.” Or I delay, promising, “I’ll tell you later.”

In case we don’t meet again, I’ll tell you now: After 10 years of participating in this unique and precious work alongside my thoughtful boss, Daniel Jones, I’ve learned that love is like a form of energy — sustenance as integral to our existence as food, sunshine and the air we breathe.

And, like energy, I believe love is indestructible, constantly transferred between people, passed down from one generation to the next, durable through time and even death.

Joan Didion was correct when she wrote: “Life changes fast. Life changes in an instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.” Spend two minutes in the Modern Love submission inbox, and you will appreciate life’s fragility. Loved ones suddenly dying or becoming sick; deciding post-affair that they’re done with a two-decade marriage and don’t want any custody of the kids; or revealing a family secret that upends everything.

Just as common, however, are happy happenstances. Falling in love with a man who grew up on the same block as you and worked in the same building, but whom you didn’t meet until a chance midlife encounter. Talking to a stranger on the train who provides sage, unsolicited advice. Or witnessing a hawk — the likes of which you’ve never seen in your neighborhood — swoop down the day you and your wife visit the man who received your late daughter’s organs.

Many therapists insist that we routinely devise narratives about our lives. With Modern Love, I am always struck by a writer’s capacity to take a bad circumstance (or even an ordinary one) and turn it into a profoundly moving, wise or funny story.

Loving — and writing about love — involves choice. The choice to create meaning from raw experience. The choice to be bold and vulnerable, to reach outside yourself, to try to communicate and commune. As bell hooks wrote: “When we choose to love, we choose to move against fear, against alienation and separation. The choice to love is a choice to connect, to find ourselves in the other.”

Below are eight accounts of how the Modern Love column reverberated in readers’ lives — how people around the world chose to move against alienation and instead see themselves in a stranger.


An orange illustration of a mother and son sitting on a giant piece of pizza floating in space.

“As [my son and I] got our slices of pizza … I began a series of proclamations. ‘I will love you whoever you are. I will love you whatever you choose. I will respect the choices you make.’ He looked at me with eyes wide open, as if wondering if he could believe me … ‘You’re only starting to figure out who you’re going to be,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to be held back by what others think of you. You don’t have to match the people who love you.’”

In 2017 I read “Finding God in a Hot Slice of Pizza” from my flat in London. Though I couldn’t relate to the identity crisis of leaving an orthodox religion, I very much related to the trepidation involved in telling someone something that upends how “things should be,” when in my youth I came out to my family as gay.

I always felt from my mum what the author said to her son that day in the pizzeria. My mum lived in Canada (where I am originally from), and sharing newspaper articles over email was a way we stayed connected before she died last December. I sent her this column the day it was published, thanking her for being the type of parent who loved me unconditionally, always letting me choose what kind of person to be (and pizza to eat).

— Luke Costello, 39, London, Modern Love reader for 15 years


A blue and white illustration of storks carrying babies. One stork has just a blanket, no baby.

“Going to the hospital for a stillbirth is the photographic negative of going for a live birth. You carry the overnight bag, check into a room in the maternity ward and so on. But they put a marker on your door to alert the nurse-midwives that, in this room, things are different.”

My First Son, a Pure Memory,” was published when I was 12 weeks pregnant with our first child. I had learned earlier that week that our daughter had a very high chance of anencephaly. I didn’t realize the gravity of the situation until the doctor asked if I had brought anyone with me to the appointment — I hadn’t. My husband came quickly, but the devastation had already hit me: Our baby was unlikely to survive.

The article was like a blueprint for our next few weeks. Tests were run, diagnosis confirmed, decisions made. I returned to this author’s words time and again.

What I learned most from these lines was empathy. Knowing that someone else had walked this same, very scary path gave me a sense of comfort, which I was then able to pass on to others. Our daughter Abigail was born still on Oct. 16, 2008.

Margo Bassett, 46, Minneapolis, Modern Love reader for 20 years


An illustration of a man crouched over a crevasse with a woman clinging to him from below.

“When he swept my body under, pinned me down, I felt the fright I knew all too well and did not care to know again. Then that memory crackled, like a glitch in the matrix, a program being overwritten by another … Wedged under him, as the old dread rose and then subsided in my chest, I realized he had really done it. Like an oyster, he had taken the painful grit of my past into the sanctuary of his embrace and smoothed it over into a pearl he was presenting to me.”

This essay, “Pinned Under the Bodies of Men,” took me by surprise as it articulated exactly the vague and sometimes specific fear so many women, including me, feel about physical intimacy with men. Her tribute to her husband — about how one man loving you with his whole being can transform your fear and pain into healing — gives me hope. Having read this, I feel now that maybe there are good loving men out there. Jerrine Tan, thank you so much.

— Suzanne Taylor, 57, Toronto, Modern Love reader for “probably a decade”


An illustration of a woman using a large leaf blower to blow away her husband and his extra clothes.

“Here’s the thing about marriage. We commit to sticking together for richer or poorer, through sickness and health and during good times and bad, assuming that the tough times are the stress test. But what if it’s the opposite? What if the hard times bring out our best and make us focus on what’s important, while the danger zone is when we grow so complacent that we can afford to obsess over a neglected shirt for eight months?”

When I find myself frustrated over the mundane (my husband didn’t clean up coffee grounds, didn’t put ice in the kids’ drinks and tracked in dust from his many garage projects), I think of the shirt in this gem of a Modern Love column. I think of how he’s supported me through a double mastectomy, my father’s death and a tough career situation. I smile at myself the way the author must have and realize that the very fact I have time to be annoyed by coffee grounds means life is A-OK! And then I sweep them up because I have the world’s best husband and, after all, I’m standing right there with a broom.

— Valerie Charles, 44, Kansas City, Mo., Modern Love reader for 15 years


An illustration of a woman looking at caterpillar in a field.

“I’m now 59 with Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. I still don’t have a partner, but I’ve fallen desperately in love with life. … I use each day to soak up the world’s splendor. ‘Not yet,’ I whisper to the heavens. ‘I love it here.’”

I was unprepared to navigate my life after the sudden, traumatizing death of my husband of more than 30 years to Covid. There were months, perhaps years, of despair, endless weeks of insomnia, numerous empty bottles of hard liquor that bore witness to my life’s downward spiral. Grieving is not for the weak. Grieving in a global pandemic that took your loved one is almost intolerable.

Seeing joy in my loved ones’ smiles, noticing nature’s vibrant, ever-changing beauty, hearing a child’s laugh and feeling butterflies when experiencing my “first kiss” after my last “first kiss” in 1986, are reminders that living a deep and meaningful life also includes sorrow and pain. Clare Cory’s Tiny Love Story reminds me that everyone is facing a battle. Our power to savor the gift of existence reaffirms my choice to forge on and continue writing my life’s story.

— Ellynmarie Theep, 63, Barnet, Vt., Modern Love reader for “five plus years”


An illustration of a woman reading a book with a dog looking over her shoulder.

“Some 24 years ago, I fed my child their first meal of solid food, a teaspoon of Gerber rice cereal flakes mixed with breast milk. Today, I spoon homemade cơm and cá kho between their chapped lips, as they murmur gratitude. Their arms are immobile to protect the line of sutures across their chest … They had top surgery so they can be who they feel deep in their soul. I cook Vietnamese food for their recovery so I can assure them they will always be my child.”

I remember taking a screenshot of “They Will Always Be My Child” long before acknowledging to myself that I want top surgery, too. The story parallels much of my own life, and when I read it now, I imagine it from my own mother’s perspective. When she fed me my first meal after adopting me from China. Her watching the countless tennis matches I played in high school and college. While I haven’t had top surgery yet, it’s comforting to realize that my mom would care for me like the mother who wrote the story.

— Lin Robertson, 26, Sacramento, Modern Love reader for “5+ years”


An illustration of a man and woman cut up by a number of horizontal lines.

“By not calling someone, say, ‘my boyfriend,’ he actually becomes something else, something indefinable. And what we have together becomes intangible. And if it’s intangible it can never end because officially there’s nothing to end. And if it never ends, there’s no real closure, no opportunity to move on.”

Almost 10 years after this essay was written, I still refer to people as being someone’s “Jeremy”: A person who is ill-defined — neither a friend nor a lover. It can seem preferable to be a part of something than nothing at all, but when I was going through a bad breakup (with someone I never actually dated), my friend told me, “Just because he never did anything horrible doesn’t mean you should be with him.”

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that it’s better to take a chance on getting rejected. If not, your relationship will always be in limbo, partially created in your head.

— Victoria Yang, 26, Manhattan, N.Y., Modern Love reader “since college in 2016”


An illustration of a woman reaching for another woman who is falling into a vortex.

“Grief is exactly as painful as you think it will be, but with time you will learn to love your sadness because of the tiny shoots of joy and gratitude that sprout around it, like new growth on scorched earth. … As the sun set in fiery streaks over the mountains, I drove back to my family. When a farmer waved at me from inside a beat-up pickup, I thought about the comfort of sturdy, unglamorous things, my marriage among them.”

As an oncologist, I routinely witness — and experience — grief and loss. I often return to Michelle DuBarry’s words as a source of wisdom and comfort. While grappling with the death of a patient, I think about learning to love the sadness that accumulates within me. When I see my patients receive meticulous care and unwavering support from their families at the end of their lives, I think about the beauty of “sturdy, unglamorous” love. My gratitude to Ms. DuBarry for sharing her wise story with us.

— Neha Verma, 31, Baltimore, Modern Love reader for 10 years

Complete Article HERE!

This Is How Kink Can Improve Your Relationship And Sex Life

— Kink is way more nuanced than we think.

By

Traditionally, most of us have considered kink to be something outside the conventional ideas of sex, however, a study by the University of Brighton has suggested that as many as 20-30% of the UK population has engaged in it.

Addtionally, according to Google Trends data, there has been an increased interest in “kink” since 2016 – no doubt helped by films like Fifty Shades of Grey and Nicole Kidman’s upcoming flick Babygirl, further normalising the practice.

However, according to one expert, there is far more nuance to this subculture than we think and, actually, kink is good for more than just spicing up your sex life. In fact, getting familiar with our kinks can actually improve our relationships overall.

HuffPost UK spoke exclusively with Gigi Engle, certified sex and relationship psychotherapist and resident intimacy expert at relationship exploration and dating app 3Fun, to learn more about what we should all know about this hot topic…

Everything you didn’t know about kink, according to an expert

Engle believes that to some degree, this sexual subculture is being misrepresented. Speaking about the popular films that depict kink, she says: “Kink in mainstream media often neglects the plentiful nuance and negotiation that goes into kink, instead choosing to sensationalise it.

“What we’re supposed to be seeing is something sexy and kinky, but what we’re really seeing is glorified abuse. This isn’t what kink is about. Kink is about boundaries, clear negotiation, and being 100% on board with everything.”

Unfortunately, she warns, this misrepresentation can lead to prejudice and even encouraging abuse. “We often see consent left out of mainstream depictions and this can lead to a lot of problematic outcomes such as people trying ‘kink’ in ways that are very unsafe, people thinking that if you’re into kink you’re into abuse and much more,” Engle explains.

However, while the sexpert acknowledges that this isn’t always the case, she does urge that filmmakers should work directly with sex workers who specialise in kink to help them to create better, more accurate representations.

Until then, Engle urges people to look at how (healthy) kink can improve their relationships, saying: “Kink allows couples to explore fantasy and power dynamics in a unique way. It can really open the doors to greater exploration and excitement, which can be great for deepening intimacy and increasing desire.

“It can aid in sexual communication through negotiation and boundary setting and allow couples to deepen trust by learning and trying things together in a safe way. Kink is part of how adults play. It’s how we get to know our deeper desires and explore together in a way that is bonding and often quite transformative.”

If you’re single, this is of course, a little more complex. Kink requires mutual trust, and an inherent feeling of safety, which isn’t always possible when you’re sleeping with new people.

Engle advises following these three steps to engage in kink safely as a single person:

  • Always vet partners. You want to ask for references if you’re going to do kink play with a new partner. It’s completely OK to ask to speak to former kink partners because this stuff can be really dangerous and shouldn’t be practiced by someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.
  • Set clear boundaries and safewords with all new partners.
  • Practice alone. You can engage in what’s called “self dominance” or “self submission” where the power dynamics you’re playing with are with yourself. This can look like practicing Shibari rope tying on yourself, using toys on yourself with a set intention for dominance or submission, or using implements like flogger on yourself.

Complete Article HERE!

What People Get Wrong About Sexless Relationships

— From A Sex Therapist

By Kelly Gonsalves

There are many reasons sex gets so much attention when it comes to discussing a healthy relationship: It’s a uniquely connective experience where couples get to completely shed their walls, get playful with each other, and indulge in giving and receiving physical pleasure, all in a way that is (for monogamous folks) not shared with any other person.

That said, while sexual intimacy can certainly bring couples closer together, one of the biggest misconceptions—according to one licensed sex therapist we spoke with—is that healthy relationships require an active sex life.
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In fact, while sex does offer many benefits, both for an individual’s well-being and for a relationship, that doesn’t mean relationships always suffer without it, or that a lack of sex is always a sign of trouble in the relationship. “Lots of relationships have extended periods without sex, circumstantially or intentionally, and are still fulfilling and sources of love and connection,” she says. “This can ebb and flow or be a sustained context of the relationship.”

Here are some examples of situations where couples might have little to no sex without it being a relationship crisis, according to Franc

  • When partners are long-distance or have opposing schedules
  • When a partner is ill or unwell and therefore unable to have sex comfortably and safely
  • When partners are tired or burned out
  • When partners may abstain from sex for religious or spiritual reasons
  • When one or both partners lose interest in it

As long as both partners are on the same page about it and are continuing to find other ways to enjoy intimacy together, Francis says it’s not inherently a problem if a couple puts sex on the back burner.

Sexless relationships can be healthy and fulfilling

There’s a common assumption that sexless relationships are inherently unfulfilling, or at least less fulfilling than sexual ones. But that’s actually a big myth, according to Francis.

“Not everyone wants to have sex, and not all people consider sex to be an integral part of their partnerships,” she points out.

Of course, many people do have an innate desire for sex and see it as vital to their relationships, but it’s important to recognize that that’s not true for everyone.

For example, ever heard someone say they could go the rest of their lives without ever having sex again? (Or maybe that’s you?) Some people really do experience little to no desire for sex—also known as asexuality. “Asexuality exists as an umbrella and is an example of a group of people who may intentionally create relationships that have low or no partnered sex experiences,” says Francis.

While much research has demonstrated a connection between sexual satisfaction and relationship satisfaction1, it’s important to remember “sexual satisfaction” can mean vastly different things to different people and different couples.

A couple might have one single, fabulous sexual encounter a year and not really feel a desire to do it any more frequently; that’s sexual satisfaction for them. Another couple might have sex every week, but one person wants it more often and the other finds the sex to be a chore. That’s probably a pretty unsatisfying sex life, despite the fact that they’re having frequent sex.

Likewise, for some couples, having little to no sex might actually be a pretty satisfying situation. As Francis puts it, “If both partners are in agreement to not have sex, then not having sex is not a problem and can bring people closer as they create the kind of relationship that honors their desires.”

And for the record, one 2017 study2

found sexlessness in the past year had virtually no impact on an individual’s self-reported happiness—even among married people. People who had no sex in the past year reported being about as happy as those who had been sexually active. This isn’t to say that sex isn’t important to some people (it definitely is!), but it may not be as universally necessary to everyone, as we’re so often told.

The problem with compulsory sexuality

Constant emphasis on how much sex couples are having and how to increase sexual frequency can contribute to what some experts refer to as compulsory sexuality.

Compulsory sexuality is that prevalent idea that all humans need sex and should be aspiring toward having an active sex life. In addition to invalidating the experiences of asexual people, compulsory sexuality can make everyone feel like there’s something wrong with them or their relationship if they’re not having a ton of sex.

“Societal pressure to have sex or have a certain amount of sex is harmful to everyone,” Francis points out. “It is disembodying and coercive to feel forced to have sex, and people feel the impact of that even when the pressure is coming from a cultural script.”

Some research backs this up, too: A 2015 study3

found that when couples felt pressured to have more sex, the increased sexual frequency that resulted actually decreased their overall happiness in the relationship—and resulted in them feeling even less motivated to have sex.

That means that, if you’re pushing yourself to have more sex when you don’t actually authentically want that, it might just harm your relationship even further.

On the other hand, as Francis points out, feeling like your experience of desire is being honored and accepted exactly the way it is can actually help couples feel closer to each other as they co-create a mutually satisfying relationship.

Put simply, “If folks do not want to have more sex than they are having, that is to be celebrated,” she says.

The takeaway

Here’s the long and short of it: If you’re having less sex than you (or your partner) would like, and it’s causing tension in the relationship, then the relationship will of course benefit from more intentionality and investment in this part of your lives.

But if you and your partner aren’t having sex, and neither of you has a problem with that, then there’s nothing to worry about. All those external voices around you telling you there’s something wrong if a couple doesn’t have an active sex life? Ignore them.

Sex isn’t mandatory for a healthy relationship. It’s up to you and your partner to decide what role it does—or doesn’t—play in your lives.

Complete Article HERE!

Early Summer 2014 Q&A Show— Podcast #423 — 06/30/14

[Look for the podcast play button below.]

Hey sex fans,

My inbox is overflowing, so it’s time to turn our attention to the sexually worrisome in our audience. I have another swell sweet crackQ&A show in store for you today. Each of my correspondents is eager to share his or her sex and relationship concerns with us. And I will do my level best to make my responses informative, enriching and maybe even a little entertaining.

  • Bluetail Man ain’t gettin’ any at home so he’s thinkin’ about takin’ his needs elsewhere.
  • Mike is saddled with a meth monkey and we have an exchange about that.
  • Hanson is into pain; he wants to know if that’s normal. He and I have an exchange about that.
  • Ted wants his GF to give up her booty; she doesn’t want to.  We have an exchange about that
  • Sean is afraid his kinks will get him in trouble. He and I have an exchange about that.
  • Anonymous is filled with fear, rage, and lust.

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!

Look for my podcasts on iTunes. You’ll find me in the podcast section, obviously, or just search for Dr Dick Sex Advice. And don’t forget to subscribe. I wouldn’t want you to miss even one episode.

Early Spring 2014 Q&A Show — Podcast #413 — 03/31/14

[Look for the podcast play button below.]

Hey sex fans,rifleman

After a spate of marvelous interview shows, it’s time to turn our attention to the sexually worrisome in our audience. I have a swell Q&A show in store for you today, which just so happens to be our last podcast before our annual spring break. Each of my correspondents is eager to share his or her sex and relationship concerns with us. And I will do my level best to make my responses informative, enriching and maybe even a little entertaining. And I think there will be enough time for us to do some sex science too. So please stay tuned, you won’t want to miss this.

  • Kennedy, Jim, and Ronald’s lives are being fucked up by meth.
  • Sam wants to know about and share some information about penis pumps.
  • Rebecca has a heartbreaking story to tell of the last days before her husband of 46 years died.
  • Tracy asks about babies and gender. So you know it’s time for some Sex Science.

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!

Look for my podcasts on iTunes. You’ll find me in the podcast section, obviously, or just search for Dr Dick Sex Advice. And don’t forget to subscribe. I wouldn’t want you to miss even one episode.