I’m not sure he’ll think it’s “real.”
How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Jessica and Rich here. It’s anonymous!
Dear How to Do It,
I (30) have been married to my husband (“Thomas,” 40) for seven years now. We recently decided to open up our marriage into a more specifically polyamorous mode (though neither of us was ever really married to the idea of monogamy). However, while I’ve been having a lot of fun with other partners, I’d hoped the variation would help rekindle the sexual spark Thomas and I used to have, but I still don’t feel much in the way of sexual urges for him. I know it’ll either come back or it won’t, but a few things have me worried:
Thomas is still very sexually attracted to me. I feel guilty for not really wanting to have sex with him anymore, especially since he’s very shy and unlikely by his own admission to find other people to play with in person (he does play with others online, at least). I’m also conflicted over him wanting only the most minimal information about my extracurricular explorations; he doesn’t want to hear about them except in the most abstract of ways and doesn’t really want to meet any of my additional partners. This makes me feel like I’m keeping secrets, even though it’s just out of respect for his wishes rather than because I want to keep him in the dark. Is it healthy to give him the low-information diet he wants?
In branching out, I’ve gotten to indulge in some kinks that I’m not able to explore with my husband, namely rope play, submission, and my more masochistic tendencies. These are things I’ve known I was interested in since well before I met Thomas, who is definitively not into them, and finally getting to indulge has been exhilarating, to say the least. However, the kind of play I’ve been getting into often leaves me with some bruises—which, let me be clear, I enjoy!—and Thomas gets concerned about any marks on me. I worry about making him uncomfortable. It’s my body, so I don’t feel like I owe it to him to maintain it in a way that prioritizes his comfort over my enjoyment, but I also don’t want to feel like I have to hide it from him. What is my responsibility to Thomas’ feelings here?
Over the past few years, I’ve realized that I’m nonbinary. I’ve very recently started coming out to a few friends about this, including my newer partners. However, I’m not sure how to broach the subject with Thomas. While he’s generally respectful of my trans friends, when I’ve hinted about my feelings in the past, he has been dismissive of nonbinary identities and that makes me really nervous, as does the fact that he’s had a hard time understanding that a cis man dating a trans woman does not mean he’s gay. I think coming out to him will be hard both in terms of just explaining what being nonbinary even is, and in terms of challenging his own view of himself as a straight man. I’m a very conflict-avoidant person, but what’s the best way for me to bite this bullet with my husband? My extremely stereotypically feminine body makes me worry he’ll never see my identity as real.
—Buried the Lede
Dear Buried the Lede,
There are two ways of handling this pile of issues you’ve described. You can start at the easier end, or you can dive into the hardest. Your discomfort in sharing your gender identity with your husband, combined with your sign-off, makes all the other questions you have about sharing pale in comparison. Not everyone has a relationship with gender that feels crucial to who they are, but it seems like you do. This means that it’s an important thing to share with your husband. People generally have an easier time hearing concrete facts over education on theory, so I’d start with drafting a concise explanation of what non-binary means to you—without using the word non-binary. It is, after all, most important that he understands how you as an individual approach gender and what gender means to you. He might need time to process, or even become overwhelmed during the conversation. If that happens, give him space. This might need to take place over the course of several conversations. If he doesn’t see your identity as real, you’ll need to make the big decision of whether to continue the relationship or not.
As for the bruises and Thomas’ preference for a low-information situation, these two things are likely in conflict. Broach that conversation with something along the lines of, “I want to respect your desire to hear only the broadest strokes of my interactions with other people, and I also come home with consensual bruises sometimes. I’m not sure how to have the kind of sex I’m having while respecting your boundaries.” Then listen, and find out how he’d prefer you handle things. “Healthy” isn’t so much about an ideal, prescribed amount of information as it is a sustainable balance between the needs and desires of everyone in the relationship.
And, you know, it’s possible that he doesn’t accept your gender, and the two of you can’t balance your bruises and his boundaries, and you part ways. That’s always an option. It doesn’t mean you failed at marriage, it means you had a successful seven years and then did what was best for each of you in the current moment.
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Dear How to Do It,
My boyfriend and I have been dating for almost a year, and we have always had a really great sex life. I’m into it, he’s into it, and we have a great time together. But for a little over a month, I haven’t been wanting sex at all. I can see that it is bothering him, and that he wants to get back to our old rhythm, but he has been very kind and loving to me throughout. However, I have been struggling to voice my feelings, because past trauma has resulted in me being terrified of saying no to sex. I know that my boyfriend would never be angry with me and that he would respect my boundaries, but every time he initiates sex and I don’t want it, I am too scared to say no. It leaves me feeling guilty, miserable, and uncomfortable. I wish I could just tell him how I am feeling; it would make the situation so much better! But I don’t know how. I desperately want to get over this fear and learn to speak up for myself and express my feelings; I need some advice.
All that said, I also really miss our old sex life. We are both young, healthy, and happy; I don’t know what is going on. I want to WANT sex, and I miss getting turned on by my boyfriend. We still have a good time cuddling, kissing, and spending time together, but I miss the amazing sex we used to have. Part of me thinks that the reason I have been so disinterested is because of the stress I have been feeling about another aspect of our sex life: the fact that I have only orgasmed once with him. I love sex, and even when I don’t finish it feels really good (honestly, I have never orgasmed during PIV sex with anyone). But my boyfriend is sad that he can’t get me to the finish line, and I am worried that my (or perhaps our) overall stress and disappointment over this are leading me to avoid sex completely. I don’t want that! I want to learn how to stop worrying about orgasming/not orgasming so I can relax (and maybe actually achieve it!). But mostly, I want to find the balance between respecting my own boundaries and trying to reintroduce sex. Help!
—Scared Sexless
Dear Scared Sexless,
Communication is difficult. As with most things in life, it gets easier as we practice it. But the simplicity of “communicate what you’re feeling to your partner” belies the challenge and effort involved. There are a lot of issues in your letter that your boyfriend should know, so first, it’s a matter of deciding which ones to start with.
I think the difficulty you have in saying no to sex you don’t want at that moment is the most crucial. You might say, “I’m struggling to voice my feelings around sex, and especially am having a hard time saying no when I don’t want to have sex.” If you can get that whole sentence out, you’ve done great. If you can only say, “I’m struggling to voice my feelings around sex,” you’ve done something and should still congratulate yourself. From there, your boyfriend (who you describe as respectful of boundaries) will know something is up. He will likely have feelings of concern and care to express, and probably have follow-up questions.
The two of you might consider a moratorium on him initiating for a period of several weeks. You might decide he can initiate cuddling and kissing but not contact with your breasts or with either of your genitals. You might determine that he can initiate but he will do so verbally, asking whether you’d like to go further or stop.
You can also work on your “no.” This is something you can do alone, with a friend, or with your partner. Take 15 minutes to say no, over and over, in different ways. If you’re working with another person, they can ask you questions or make suggestions for you to say no to. “No, thank you”; “No, I’m not interested in that”; “I’d rather do something else”; “Nope”; “I’d like to stop”; and, of course, the plain old classic, “No.”
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Dear How to Do It,
I (cis woman, 30s) have realized recently that I enjoy a lot of the butt play I’ve done with my boyfriend as of late. We’ve explored with fingering, eating out, and butt plugs. It feels great and I really enjoy it… during the times that I can get out of my head enough to do so! I’m always so paranoid I might be dirty back there/might smell/etc., even after showering and scrubbing. This is especially true of ass eating, it feels particularly vulnerable and makes me quite self-conscious about having my boyfriend back there. How can I feel more confident about it and enjoy the moment without letting these (slightly) irrational fears come into play?
—Let There Be Butt
Dear Let There Be Butt,
You don’t mention internal cleaning, which is another way people reduce the chance of fecal smell or fecal matter during anal play. To be clear, there’s no way to guarantee that you or your partner will never encounter poop, but there are ways to minimize the risk. Putting clean water in an enema bottle or anal cleansing bulb is what most people do. If you wouldn’t drink it, don’t put it in your colon—so, if the tap water is suspect where you live and you use a filter, use that filter for your anal water. For a more detailed explanation of options, check out Tristan Taormino’s The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex For Women.
Dear How to Do It,
I (35F) have been divorced for almost six years and have two children (8 F) and (11 M) from the marriage. The marriage of seven years was an abusive and toxic one, so upon my divorce, I packed up what little I could on my own, grabbed the kids, and proceeded to move a few thousand miles away to safety. I spent almost the first year after my divorce learning how to be me again, getting myself and my kids therapy, and just trying to figure out our new family dynamic. After that first year, I enrolled in college and have been going for five years now and will be graduating soon! It has been a very long road for us as I’ve raised my kids almost entirely on my own, gone to school full time, and worked full time. I have found some stress relief in the summers while the kids stay with their grandparents in the form of one-night stands and flings. I’m always upfront with what I want: No emotional attachment, just sex, don’t forget your things on your way out. It has been perfect for post-exam stress and freedom from kid stress!
However, with my graduation will come an immense amount of free time. Since my divorce, I have only had those few casual hookups. I’ve had too much on my plate for anything else, but now… there suddenly seems to be an opportunity for more than meaningless sex. My family has mentioned me starting to date again more than once. They’ve thankfully understood why I haven’t so far, but now I don’t have any excuses for not seeing someone more permanently. I guess my question is…how? How do people find others and date nowadays? I haven’t really done a big dating thing since way before my marriage (almost 15 years ago!) so I have no idea how to even begin! Any tips on what to look out for or even what to put in a profile? I’m not picky when it comes to looks/gender/race/etc. and my overall “wants” are pretty easy to fulfill I think, so I have no idea how to get myself out there and noticed! All of my casual flings in the past were met through acquaintances of acquaintances or even work in a few cases (oops~), and only after they had interactions with me a few times. I’m utterly lost on how to start and continue a relationship, all while having to deal with the vulnerability I’ll be putting my family in again (I’m working on that last part with my therapist). Any help navigating these waters would be great as I find myself at a complete loss.
—To Date or Not to Date?
Dear to Date or Not to Date,
You’ll have the time, and your family has been curious, and you no longer have excuses, but do you want to start dating someone seriously? Not even in the sense of whether you’ve recovered from your previous marriage, but in the sense of whether you have the desire to have a dating partner. Spend some time thinking about whether that’s something you actually want, and what you would want that to look like. Go ahead and consider ideal scenarios, even though ideal is hardly ever the reality. Also, consider your hard limits—the things that absolutely must be there, or absolutely cannot be there, in an actual relationship.
Work isn’t the best place to meet partners (and you know that) but meeting people through acquaintances is a great method—for casual sex, as you’ve done, and also for longer-term dating with romantic potential. Dating apps, however, are how most people meet most of the people they’re hooking up with these days.
A good dating profile is concise yet engaging. You want to state what you’re looking for, give a potential match something to respond to, and you may want to state any big potential deal-breakers of yours up front for the sake of efficiency. For instance, my profile often reads something like, “Looking for casual, open to more. Writer living with two cats,” and then I might fill in any fields that allow me to state that I smoke cigarettes casually. Photos should be recent, clear, and look like you on one of your best days—how you hope to look when you show up to a first meeting. Happy face shots do well as cover photos. From there, it’s a combination of volume and luck. You might match with someone you get on well with on the first day. You might have to swipe for a while, and message with several people before you find one you want to meet up with.
Meanwhile, just because you’ve strictly just had sex in the past with someone in no way means you can’t have something more substantial with them now. So it’s worth considering whether there’s potential for something more with any of the people you’ve hooked up with.
—Jessica
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