Tag: Relationship Advice

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What I Wish People Understood About BDSM

By Emma Michelle Dixon, Ph.D.

BDSM is the acronym people use to refer to a whole variety of erotic practices involving dominance, submission, other forms of roleplay and more. Specifically: the B and D refer to bondage and discipline, and S and M to sadism and masochism. BDSM has attracted a great deal of mainstream interest since 50 Shades of Grey hit the screens. However, there is some woeful misunderstanding about what it is and isn’t.

The misunderstanding that BDSM is necessarily linked to violence or portrayed as acting against someone’s will is dangerous, as it doesn’t account for the interpersonal dynamics that make BDSM a consensual practice. And many people are unaware of the playful, consciousness-expanding, and even healing opportunities that BDSM offers. From my coaching work with clients, and from exploring my own identity as a sex-positive woman, I know that BDSM can do a lot more than just add a bit of fun to an otherwise routine roll in the hay.

Here are five things I wish more people understood about BDSM:

1. Fundamentally, BDSM is about sensation and power play.

Many don’t realize it, but BDSM is by its nature not even about “conventional” sex (i.e. involving genitals) — although it often includes play that is erotic. As you may have assumed, BDSM often includes pain (particularly pain-as-play), but it has also come a long way in recent years, and incorporates a vast number of practices that aren’t always explicitly about sex.

Sensation is often explored via impact play (such as flogging, spanking, etc.), pushing boundaries around play and pleasure, restraint, blindfolds, and objects. Power dynamics are explored through role play, such as one partner being submissive (bottom) and the other dominant (top). The words “bottom” and “top” refer to sex positions on a literal level; though these identities can also be explored psychologically. BDSM can also be as simple as playing with rope, or as complicated as a drawn out “scene” with lots of props and a scenario that participants act out.

2. You MUST have consent and safety for BDSM.

Consent and an in-depth discussion of boundaries and physical safety are the absolute hallmarks of BDSM. Safety — physical and psychological — is what allows BDSM to be everything it can be: fun, consciousness-shifting, and even healing (see below).

If you’re new to BDSM, or exploring it for the first time with a new partner, it’s absolutely necessary to discuss what you want, what you don’t want, how you will communicate “slow down” or “stop” in the heat of the moment, and how you will do “aftercare” to process it all later. This also means that you must know the signs of physical distress if you’re playing with intense sensation.

If you are not given a choice about your part in the dynamic, steer clear. It’s especially important when watching or reading fictional depictions of BDSM to understand that consent marks the unambiguous boundary between erotic play and non-consensual abuse. For this reason, it’s not advisable to dive into BDSM with strangers!

3. It can be playful!

If you’ve ever watched children play, you know that from our earliest years, we humans are drawn to exploring boundaries and roles that involve power: goodies versus baddies, cops and robbers and so on. In adulthood, we have even more options to explore this concept. Eroticism and power play happen to be a good fit.

Likewise, sensation can be an endless source of enjoyable exploration. Not to mention, exploring fantasies with a trusted partner (with discussion and consent) can be wildly entertaining! Even better is the underlying foundation of vulnerability that BDSM requires; the trust that you and your partner build from exploring these new dynamics leads to deep bonding.

4. It can be consciousness-expanding.

As sexuality educator Barbara Carellas emphasizes in her book Urban Tantra, BDSM is, like Tantra, a means of exploring consciousness. Sensation, like impact play or bondage, can leave you feeling that you are out of your body and even connected to something greater.

Surrender is so key to experiencing an expansion of consciousness. So, similarly, the experience of being submissive and just “accepting” can also lead one into an altered state. When you feel safe, and surrender, there are many ways to sink, slip, or expand into the beyond.

5. It can be healing.

Exploring sensation and power is much like a dynamic psychodrama, and one which can lead to self-realization and healing. For example, to finally take the reins of power if you have felt victimized, or to surrender if you are always in control — can be revealing and releasing.

If things go awry, and there is some kind of upset, the compassionate partner who respects boundaries can assume the role of healer. Even the most dominant, flogging, handcuff-wielding pro knows the importance of the well-timed cuddle. All the more reason to take consent and safety seriously from the beginning.

Above all, there is a reason BDSM has been central to the evolution of the sexuality movement, especially as brought to the public by the work of internationally acclaimed sexuality educators like Dossie Easton, Janet Hardy, and Barbara Carellas, for example.

BDSM, in offering such an intense context to explore eroticism, power play, sensation, and your relationship dynamics, is a rich space for personal development — as long as you play by the (agreed upon) rules!

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Is ‘Death Grip Syndrome’ actually real

— And can it harm your penis?

Gripping your penis too tightly could cause some issues

Masturbation isn’t something any of us should be shy about, but when the mood strikes, some of us seize it a little too tightly.

By

To put it plainly, if you’ve got a penis, grabbing it too hard while pleasuring yourself could leave orgasms further out of reach.

It’s what is known in slang terms as Death Grip Syndrome (DGS), though there’s actually no official medical name for the condition.

Some credit sex columnist Dan Savage with coining the term back in the early 2000s, but it’s also popped up in various Reddit threads over the years. It even got a formal Urban Dictionary entry in 2010.

But we wouldn’t put your physical health in the hands of public forums, so we had Dr Lawrence Cunningham tell us just how real (or not) it is.

What is Death Grip Syndrome?

‘DGS refers to the phenomenon where habitual, overly tight gripping of the penis during masturbation can lead to decreased sensitivity, and difficulty achieving orgasm through other forms of sexual activity,’ Dr Cunningham tells Metro.

The UK Care Guide doctor believes many men are unaware their masturbation habits could impact their sexual health, and let’s face it, none of us want any lingering problems just because we went a little too hard.

A composite image showing a hand holding a downturned bread roll.
DGS can lead to reduced sensitivity and sexual pleasure.

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Death Grip Syndrome may sound alarming, Dr Cunningham explains, but it doesn’t do any physical damage to the penis in the traditional sense.

The issue, he says, is when it comes to sexual stimulation: ‘The persistent use of a tight grip can condition the nerves and tissues to respond only to this specific form of stimulation.

‘This can make it challenging to experience pleasure and achieve orgasm through more typical forms of sexual activity.’

What are the symptoms?

The primary symptoms include decreased sensitivity in the penis and difficulty achieving orgasm, unless you’re gripping your member very tightly.

It goes without saying that this is going to decrease your levels of sexual satisfaction, which no one wants.

According to men’s health website Hims and medical adviser Mike Bohl, other symptoms include penile pain and anorgasmia.

The latter is a condition where you experience delayed, infrequent or absent orgasms — in other words, it’s a form of sexual dysfunction.

Dr Cunningham adds: ‘Years of consistent, tight-grip masturbation usually doesn’t lead to complete anorgasmia, but it can certainly lead to delayed ejaculation or reduced pleasure.’

The physical effects can result in anxiety and relationship issues too, so the doctor believes addressing the issue is crucial.

Is DGS common and is it reversible?

While there’s limited scientific data to say just how prevalent Death Grip Syndrome is, Dr Lawrence thinks he’s got a handle on it.

A composite graphic showing a drooping cactus in a plant pot
Death Grip Syndrome could cause a form of anorgasmia but this is unlikely

‘I believe I’ve seen a number of men who experience these issues. It’s common enough that sexual health professionals encounter it regularly, but many men may not realise it’s the root of their difficulties,’ he explains.

If you’re experiencing any of these symptoms, don’t be stressed because it’s generally treatable and ‘often reversible’.

How? Well, Dr Cunningham suggests: ‘Start with a change in masturbation habits; using a gentler touch and exploring different types of stimulation.

‘Incorporating more mindful and varied sexual practices can also help. In some cases, professional counselling or sex therapy can provide additional support and strategies to regain sensitivity and sexual satisfaction.’

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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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↩!

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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↩!

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No Kink-Shaming Allowed

— Why You Shouldn’t Judge Others’ Sexual Desires

Never yuck someone’s yum.

By

Kink-shaming is the act of making someone feel less than or problematic for their sexual desires. To some, the act of your partner putting a collar around your neck during sex or spanking you in the bedroom is a definite no. To others, these may be the sensual highlights of their week. That’s the beauty of individual differences.

In the world of kink, there’s always something new to explore, so approaching kink with an open mind is key. Remember, kink is consensual sexual play, so if all parties are of age, give enthusiastic consent and practice kink safely, one should refrain from shaming it.

Woman in Lace Garters Kink

 

How kink-shaming became the norm

The act of kink-shaming is rooted in centuries of sex-negative behavior. As the world has viewed sex as taboo for centuries, a whole slew of problematic behavior became the norm.

Take hysteria and the creation of the vibrator for example. In the earliest history of sex toys, vibrators were used as a method of shaming women and handling their “hysteria.” What was hysteria, you ask? Undesirable behavior like depression, lack of sexual appetite and a “tendency to cause trouble.” Doctors basically started prescribing women the use of vibrators as a “marital aid.” Essentially, if you weren’t getting your husband off, you would be prescribed a vibrator to “fix your issues.”

Why is kink-shaming bad?

Shaming others for their desires isn’t one isolated negative moment. People internalize shame and carry that weight for years. It causes emotional, social and physiological stress due to people feeling ostracized from their communities and never being able to live authentically sexually. Imagine the stress that comes with not being able to simply have a good orgasm because of shame. Kink is meant to be invigorating and freeing. Who are we to deny people of that pleasure?

Woman in Lace Garters Kink

 

How can you avoid kink-shaming?

Like with becoming more sex-positive, the best way to curve that negative thought process is by educating yourself. Educate yourself on the experiences of others, have consensual conversations with others about what they enjoy about intimacy, sex and kink if they’re comfortable.

Avoiding kink-shaming is essentially becoming more sex-positive. It’s seeking to understand, not to judge. It’s important to ask yourself why your immediate reaction to new experiences is to judge and shame.

Remember, you’re human

No one is perfect. No one is 100% unproblematic. After all, the term “get with the times” exists for a reason. We all have some learning to do, and when it comes to being sex-positive, unlearning kink-shaming is a necessary step.

Remember, kink is an act of sexual freedom and creativity, as long as you and all parties have given consent.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Why Do Bi Women Keep Sleeping With Men?

By Katie Simon

“If I liked women, I’d never date a man again,” my friend Caroline said to me after a recent breakup. Bemoaning the straight dating scene, she seemed genuinely confused as to why someone bisexual—like me—would date men at all. And, really, what was stopping me from never sleeping with a guy again? It’s an amazing idea in theory: none of the misogyny, more orgasms. And yet, time and time again, I returned to them.

I’m not alone: As many as 88% of bi people are in opposite-sex partnerships. But why? One obvious answer is that it’s a numbers game: There are more straight men in the dating pool than women or nonbinary folks who date women. But a lot more is at play too.

For one thing, bi women, like everyone else, are influenced by heteronormativity, the social construct that asserts the default sexual orientation is straight—and any other relationships are abnormal or inferior. As Emily May, an AASECT-certified sex therapist, tells me: “How many of us grew up with Disney movies that told us we’d find Prince Charming, not Princess Charming? From the moment we could spell crush, society’s been nudging us toward that classic boy-meets-girl storyline.” Like many straight women, many bi women have ingrained ideas about everything from sex requiring penetration from a penis to kids needing a mom and a dad. Indeed, the pressures and standards of heteronormativity can compel bi people to hide our identities in many contexts so that we often show up in opposite-sex dating scenarios passing for straight.

NYU sexuality professor Taylor Orlandoni explains that the way bi women come out can also affect who we sleep with. “Today, queer women are engaging more frequently with identity-centered pathways, wondering and later self-realizing their queer identity, then taking the time to disclose their identity to family or friends—all before they ever have a same-sex experience,” she says. Because the way we define our sexuality is more about processing and noticing than enacting, Orlandoni notes that it tends to take bi women years longer than our lesbian counterparts to hit sexuality milestones like coming out or having a first queer sexual experience. While many of us will identify as bi, for a long time we’ll only act on our feelings toward men—a limbo period I’ve seen countless bi friends wrestle with.

And then there’s the matter of what happens when bi women do seek out same-sex relationships. The same heteronormative forces that can lead us to suppress our queerness can also complicate making inroads with other women. Edward Reese, a bi, nonbinary sexuality expert for the Taimi dating app, puts it to me this way: “Sapphic romance is still not a mainstream topic. It’s highly influenced by misogynistic and porn stereotypes, and representation in the media is lacking. So women don’t know how to act around other women and establish a connection with them, even when there are places to meet online and offline.” Reese adds that places to meet up in the real world, like lesbian bars, are slowly disappearing—and it takes chutzpah to actually follow through after meeting someone on an app.

Picking up on dating cues can be tough for bi women too. Saba Harouni, LMFT, says that not only have we been “steeped” in a heteronormative world, but we’ve also been socialized in heterosexual dating norms—meaning we may not necessarily know how to express interest in women and nonbinary folks. “Bisexual women may have a much more difficult time reading cues from other women or knowing how to initiate sexual or romantic relationships with women,” Harouni says. It can be tough to tell the difference between a queer woman hitting on you and a straight woman just giving you a compliment.

Still other bi women encounter the opposite problem: One person I spoke to, Yannis, likes to meet dates organically—out in the world—but she finds herself only chatting with men. “I think that’s likely because I usually present as more feminine or straight passing, as the kids say,” she says. “It’s not always a bad thing, but it makes it harder to connect with other queer girls in the wild.” Yannis’s dilemma is shared by many other bi folks: We either struggle to identify women as queer or struggle to be identified as queer ourselves.

Further complicating matters: Sofie Roos, a bi sexologist and relationship therapist, shares that in her experience both personally and professionally, many lesbians actively avoid dating bi women. Why? Lesbians who see bi women on dating apps may assume we are merely bi curious, with one foot rooted firmly in heterosexuality. (And to those who are bi curious: Roos recommends being straightforward to keep people from getting their feelings hurt. Some women like sleeping with newbies!)

A survey by dating app Her has also found that 48.3% of bisexuals are assumed to be straight or gay based on their partner. It’s another misperception that forces us to educate the world—and sometimes even our own partners—about our identities in order not to lose them. As therapist Emily May explains, “It’s like, ‘You’re bi, but are you really bi if you’re with a dude?’ The short answer: Yes, you are. But the pressure of having to constantly prove your queerness can be exhausting.”

I’ve dated enough men that some people assume I’m straight, and though I try to be forward about my sexual orientation when it’s relevant, I know that my identity is not up for debate. Bi women have nothing to prove, to ourselves or anybody else.

While certain factors affect who we date and how we navigate dating, Reese also reminds me that love simply isn’t logical—people “look for their soulmates and like-minded individuals. It can happen between a man and a woman, as well as between two women.” I like Reese’s perspective on our choices (or lack thereof): There shouldn’t be pressure to apply rules or reason to love. Ultimately, like relationships between people of any sexual orientation, it’s up to luck.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How Project 2025 Seeks to Obliterate Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights

— The far-right blueprint would severely limit reproductive autonomy and access to reproductive healthcare, while turning back the clock on hard-won gains, both domestically and globally.

People attend the Our Bodies Our Lives Rally for Reproductive Freedom at the Bayfront Amphitheater on Sept. 14, 2024, in Miami. The rally was held to advocate for the passage of Amendment 4, which will be on Florida’s ballot, which would protect the right to abortion in the state.

By , and

Project 2025 promotes a presidential agenda that rolls back civil and human rights and implements extremist conservative policies across every federal department and agency. Its sweeping far-right policy framework, by the conservative think tank the Heritage Foundation, includes numerous attacks on sexual and reproductive health and rights.

The plan’s far-reaching recommendations would severely limit reproductive autonomy and access to reproductive healthcare, while turning back the clock on hard-won gains, both domestically and globally. This fact sheet enumerates some of the agenda’s most serious threats to sexual and reproductive health and describes potential effects.

1. Threats to Medication Abortion

Project 2025 proposes several strategies for restricting—and ultimately eliminating—access to mifepristone, an extremely safe and effective medication used in the most common regimen for medication abortion in the United States.

  • The plan proposes reinstating medically unnecessary restrictions on mifepristone that require in-person dispensing and limit who can prescribe and receive the medication. By effectively ending telehealth provision of the method, these restrictions would limit access to the method for anyone who faces barriers to reaching a brick-and-mortar clinic, including individuals receiving telehealth care (under the protection of shield laws) in states where abortion is banned.
  • It also recommends revoking mifepristone’s U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approval, which would remove the drug from the market entirely. Nearly two-thirds of all abortions provided by clinicians are medication abortions, and the vast majority of them use the combined regimen of mifepristone and misoprostol. Although use of misoprostol alone is also safe and effective, it is unclear how widely this regimen would be offered by providers, or taken up by patients, if mifepristone were no longer available.
  • Decreasing access to medication abortion by either mechanism could in turn increase demand for procedural care, placing additional strain on clinics and increasing wait time for patients.
  • Project 2025 suggests that a hostile administration could bypass the FDA and effectively ban medication abortion—and potentially all abortions—through enforcement of the Comstock Act, an 1873 anti-obscenity law that prohibits mailing anything “intended for producing abortion.” The law could be used to prevent the distribution of medication and supplies needed for abortion care and if applied broadly, it could result in a nationwide total abortion ban.

2. Broader Attacks on Abortion Access

Project 2025 also seeks to dismantle U.S. abortion access in a number of other ways.

  • The plan calls on Congress to codify into law the Hyde and Weldon Amendments, harmful policies that limit access to abortion care in the United States by restricting the use of federal funds for abortion care and coverage.
  • It also proposes a full audit of Hyde compliance, including reviewing Biden administration executive actions and Medicaid-managed care in “pro-abortion states.” These investigations may suggest an intention to retaliate against states where state Medicaid funds are used—entirely legally—to provide abortion care. In reality, the documented violations of the Hyde Amendment involve the opposite: states refusing to cover abortion care under circumstances where Medicaid coverage is mandated.

3. Denying Access to Abortion Care in Emergency Situations

Project 2025 calls for the Department of Health and Human Services to dismantle the abortion protections provided under the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act (EMTALA), a federal policy that outlines requirements for emergency departments that receive Medicare funds.

  • The plan recommends rescinding Biden administration guidance from 2022 stating that people needing abortion care as part of emergency treatment are entitled to that care under federal law, even in states where abortion is banned. It would also end investigations into cases where patients’ rights were violated by denial of necessary emergency abortion care.
  • Further, it seeks to eliminate injunctions against states that have violated EMTALA and recommends that the Department of Justice withdraw from all ongoing litigation where it is currently defending the right to emergency abortion care.
  • Refusal to enforce EMTALA’s protections for abortion care puts pregnant people’s lives in jeopardy, by forcing providers to risk criminal charges if they perform potentially lifesaving abortion care.

4. Increasing Misinformation, Disinformation and Stigma

Project 2025 aims to implement a broad anti-sexual and reproductive health and rights agenda across the government—including by changing the mandate of key agencies and rewording policies to stigmatize and delegitimize sexual and reproductive health terms and concepts.

  • The plan proposes changing the Department of Health and Human Services into the Department of Life, complete with an anti-abortion task force to replace the existing Reproductive Healthcare Task Force and a newly created position of “Special Representative for Domestic Women’s Health” to lead anti-abortion policy efforts across agencies.
  • It recommends deleting all terms related to gender, gender equality, reproductive health, reproductive rights, abortion, sexual orientation and gender identity from all legislation, federal rules, agency regulations, contracts, agency websites and grants. Likewise, it encourages the use of U.S. influence at the United Nations to remove language “promoting abortion” from U.N. documents, policy statements and technical literature.
  • Project 2025 uses charged, medically inaccurate anti-abortion rhetoric—including language falsely portraying abortion as unsafe—to break down support for abortion rights and bolster efforts to criminalize providers, misuse laws and regulations meant to protect against discrimination, and ultimately cut off access to abortion care.
  • The agenda also uses the false implication that abortion is unsafe to justify proposals to increase pregnancy and abortion surveillance at the federal level. The plan suggests mandated reporting of abortions—as well as of miscarriages and stillbirths—by all states (using denial of federal funding streams as means of enforcement). The potential weaponization of this data collection by a hostile administration poses an immediate threat to abortion providers and patients, and it paves the way for increased criminalization of pregnancy outcomes other than abortion.
  • Project 2025 seeks to redefine basic sexual health education as “pornography”—and then to make pornography illegal—and also recommends replacing comprehensive sex education with abstinence-only curricula.

5. Weaponization of Federal Medicaid Dollars

Project 2025 calls for the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS) to encourage states to eliminate all Planned Parenthood facilities from their state Medicaid programs, as some states have attempted in the past. It also suggests that CMS create a new regulation that would disqualify abortion providers nationwide.

  • This would have disastrous effects on access to basic health care services, particularly family planning, with other safety-net providers unable to increase their capacity to fill the gap that would be left if federal funding were pulled from Planned Parenthood and other reproductive health providers.
  • The agenda also makes baseless claims that some states are violating the Weldon Amendment by requiring coverage of abortion care in private insurance plans. Project 2025 calls for withdrawing partial Medicaid funds from these states in retaliation—a weaponization of funding that provides crucial health insurance for people with low incomes.

6. Attacks on Contraception

Project 2025 seeks to severely undermine two cornerstones of U.S. contraceptive provision: Title X, the national publicly funded family planning program, and the federal contraceptive coverage guarantee of the Affordable Care Act.

  • The plan proposes reinstating the harmful “domestic gag rule,” which would prohibit health care providers who receive Title X funding from providing abortion referrals and would require them to be physically and financially separated from any abortion-related activities, including counseling. Within about a year of this policy going into effect in 2019 (before it was rescinded in 2021), hundreds of clinics left the program and the number of patients served dropped by 2.4 million.
  • Project 2025 goes further and recommends legislation that would prohibit Title X funding from going to entities that perform or help fund abortion care. Legislating such a policy makes it harder to reverse in the future (compared with administrative rulemaking); it would also disqualify providers who meet the gag rule’s already stringent requirements.
  • In addition, the plan calls for broadening the contraceptive coverage guarantee’s existing religious and moral exemptions to make it easier for any employer—including large, for-profit corporations—to exclude contraceptive coverage from their employees’ health plan. Such exemptions deny people reproductive autonomy and access to needed health care, while over a decade of evidence show that the coverage guarantee reduced patients’ costs and helped them to use the birth control method of their choice and to use it effectively.

7. Impact on Reproductive Health Worldwide

Project 2025 also seeks to leverage U.S. influence to undermine sexual and reproductive health and rights globally, including by cutting U.S. financial support to countries and initiatives.

  • It proposes immediately reinstating the global gag rule, which would prevent non-U.S. NGOs from receiving U.S. government global health assistance if they used their own, non-U.S. funds to provide abortion services, information, counseling, referrals or advocacy. Past iterations of the rule have detrimentally impacted reproductive health outcomes, systems and services by decreasing access to contraceptive services and leading to clinic closures.
  • Project 2025 wants to take the policy further and have it apply to all U.S. foreign assistance, including humanitarian aid.
  • The plan also proposes blocking funding to the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) which provides a wide range of critical sexual and reproductive health services to women and girls globally. When funding to UNFPA was withheld by the Trump-Pence administration, it caused a significant disruption to service delivery.
  • Project 2025 wants to impose its anti-rights ideology at the United Nations, too. It suggests expanding on the Trump-Pence administration’s Geneva Consensus Declaration on Women’s Health and Protection of the Family, an anti-rights, anti-abortion, anti-gender joint statement that undermines human rights (although that declaration was nonbinding and was never adopted by the U.N.).

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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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↩!

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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 Miya Lee

“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↩!

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Six Signs You Should Go To Sex Therapy

— Psycho-Sexologist and host of Audible’s ‘Sex Therapy’ podcast, Chantelle Otten, on how it could improve your life.

By Chantelle Otten

If your sex life feels like it’s missing something—be it connection, pleasure, or understanding—it might be time to consider sex therapy. Often misunderstood, sex therapy is a powerful, judgement-free space that’s all about fostering deeper connections, improving communication, and embracing sexual confidence. No one knows this quite like psycho-sexologist and relationship expert Chantelle Otten, whose Audible Original podcast Sex Therapy takes listeners inside her sessions with anonymous, real-life patients. Whether you’re seeking guidance about mismatched libidos or simply after a better understanding of your body and needs, scroll on for the key signs that sex therapy could help you unlock a more fulfilling, empowered sexual life, according to Chantelle.

sex therapy 101

How can sex therapy contribute to one’s overall emotional wellbeing and personal growth?

Sex therapy can have a profound impact on emotional wellbeing and personal growth. Our sexuality is deeply connected to how we feel about ourselves, our relationships, and the world around us. When we’re able to explore and understand our desires, boundaries, and experiences without shame, it opens up space for greater self-awareness and confidence.

Through sex therapy, people can work through feelings of insecurity, past trauma, or relationship challenges that might be holding them back. By addressing these issues, they often find that not only does their sexual health improve, but so does their overall sense of self. It’s about giving people the tools to connect more deeply—with themselves and with others—leading to more fulfilling relationships, better communication, and ultimately, personal growth.

It’s empowering to realise that sexual health is an integral part of emotional wellbeing, and therapy helps people embrace that in a healthy, balanced way.

What are some common misconceptions about sex therapy that might deter people from seeking help?

One of the most common misconceptions about sex therapy is that it’s only for people with extreme issues or dysfunctions, but that’s far from the truth. Sex therapy is for anyone who wants to improve their relationship with their sexual self or their partner. People often assume they’ll be judged, or that it will be awkward, but it’s really about creating a safe, supportive space where they can explore their concerns without fear or shame.

Another misconception is that sex therapy is purely focused on the mechanics of sex. In reality, so much of what we work on is emotional—communication, self-esteem, intimacy, and understanding how past experiences shape current dynamics. It’s about the whole person, not just the physical aspect of sex.

Lastly, some people worry that coming to sex therapy means something is “wrong” with them, but it’s really about growth and empowerment. Seeking help is a positive, proactive step towards better understanding and enhancing your sexual health and relationships.

In what ways can sex therapy address issues beyond sex?

Sex therapy can actually address a wide range of issues that extend beyond just the physical aspects of sex. A lot of the work we do is centred around emotional connection, self-esteem, communication, and intimacy. For example, many people come in thinking their concerns are purely sexual, but often it’s linked to stress, anxiety, or unresolved emotional trauma. By working through these underlying issues, we can help people feel more secure in themselves and their relationships, which has a ripple effect on their overall wellbeing.

We also explore relationship dynamics—how partners interact, communicate, and express their needs. These skills translate into other areas of life, like building stronger emotional resilience and improving self-awareness. It’s about learning to connect with yourself and others in a more meaningful, authentic way, which ultimately enhances both your sexual and emotional life. So while the focus might start with sex, the impact of therapy can be much broader.

How does sex therapy integrate with other forms of therapy or counselling to provide a well-rounded approach to mental health?

Sex therapy often works hand-in-hand with other forms of therapy or counselling, creating a more holistic approach to mental health. Our sexual wellbeing is deeply intertwined with our emotional, psychological, and relational health, so it’s important to treat the whole person. If a client is already working with a psychologist or counsellor, sex therapy can complement that by focusing specifically on the sexual and relational aspects of their life.

For instance, if someone is dealing with anxiety, depression, or trauma, those issues often impact their sexual experiences or how they connect with a partner. In sex therapy, we can work through those concerns in a way that addresses both the emotional and sexual sides of things. By integrating approaches, we create a safe, cohesive space where clients can explore all aspects of their mental health without compartmentalising one part of their life from another. It’s all about treating the person as a whole, not just focusing on isolated symptoms.

What role does open communication play in the success of sex therapy, and how is this cultivated in sessions?

Open communication is absolutely essential to the success of sex therapy. So much of the work we do revolves around helping people feel comfortable enough to express their needs, desires, and boundaries—often for the first time. In therapy, we create a space where clients feel safe to talk openly without fear of judgement or shame, which is key to making progress.

In sessions, this is cultivated by encouraging honest, non-confrontational dialogue. We explore how to communicate clearly and compassionately with both yourself and your partner. For couples, it’s about learning how to listen and express themselves in a way that strengthens the relationship, rather than causing misunderstandings. We also talk about practical strategies, like using “I” statements or slowing down conversations to really understand what each person is saying.

Over time, these communication tools become part of the client’s daily life, not just in the therapy room. The more open and honest you can be, the deeper the connection you can build with your partner—and with yourself.

How can individuals or couples know when it’s the right time to seek sex therapy?

The right time to seek sex therapy isn’t just when you’re facing issues—it’s also when you want to learn more about sex, explore new sides of your sexual self, or deepen your connection with your partner. Sex therapy can be an empowering space to explore the fun side of things, gain valuable education, and understand more about your desires and boundaries. Whether you’re curious about enhancing intimacy, improving communication, or just wanting to feel more confident in your sexual experiences, therapy can help.

Of course, if communication around intimacy starts breaking down, or you’re noticing recurring issues like mismatched libidos or sexual dysfunction, that’s a sign it might be time to explore things further. But even if you’re not dealing with big concerns, sex therapy is also about growth, education, and discovering what feels good for you.

It’s all about taking a proactive step, whether it’s to resolve an issue or simply to learn and grow in your sexual wellbeing.

What are some of the most significant barriers people face when considering sex therapy, and how can they be overcome?

One of the biggest barriers people face when considering sex therapy is the fear of judgement or shame. Talking about sex can feel vulnerable, and many people worry that their concerns will be seen as abnormal or embarrassing. To overcome this, it’s important to remember that sex therapists are trained to create a safe, non-judgmental space where these topics are handled with sensitivity and care. Everyone’s experiences and challenges are valid, and seeking support is a positive step towards growth.

Another common barrier is the misconception that sex therapy is only for people with major issues. Many people think they need to wait until something goes seriously wrong to seek help. In reality, sex therapy is for anyone looking to improve their sexual health, whether that’s addressing concerns or simply learning more about sex and intimacy. Normalising therapy as part of a healthy lifestyle can make it easier to take that first step.

Lastly, some people might feel hesitant due to cultural or societal taboos around sex. Overcoming this involves recognising that sexual health is just as important as physical or mental health, and that seeking help is a way to enhance overall wellbeing. The more we talk openly about sexual health, the less intimidating it becomes.

How has the field of sex therapy evolved in recent years?

The field of sex therapy has evolved significantly in recent years, becoming much more inclusive, open, and attuned to the complexities of human sexuality. There’s a greater emphasis now on recognising the diversity of sexual experiences, from different sexual orientations and gender identities to non-traditional relationship structures like polyamory or open relationships. This shift has made therapy more accessible and welcoming to a broader range of people.

We’re also seeing more integration of mental health and sexual health, recognising that these two are deeply connected. Conversations around anxiety, trauma, and body image are often part of sex therapy now, as people understand that emotional wellbeing plays a huge role in sexual satisfaction and connection.

Another big change is the move towards normalising sex therapy as not just a last resort, but as a proactive and educational resource. More people are seeking therapy to enhance their sexual experiences, improve communication, and explore pleasure—not just to address problems. The field is growing to reflect the understanding that sexual health is a key part of overall well being, and that’s been a really exciting development.

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