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 am a voracious reader of your column. I love the content, advice, and inspiration it provides me. I am writing in for help with a problem I am having. My rational side knows the answer, but my emotional side will not get with the program.
I am female and my partner is male. We began our relationship hot and heavy. He reawakened in me a connection with my sexual self that has been powerful and liberating. I am in my mid-40s, perimenopausal, and still I WANT to have sex as often as possible because of how good it feels to be desired and connected to a man that I love. We have been very adventurous. I have a vivid imagination and fantasize and masturbate regularly. I always prefer him. Here is the problem…
His libido is vanishing. He is also in his 40s. He has an incredibly stressful job, custody troubles, substance abuse, and past sexual trauma. He is a complicated, yet simple man, and we love each other very much. I communicate endlessly about his diminishing initiative to be intimate and how it makes me feel. This then turns into him feeling guilt and shame for not being able to provide what I need, and he worries I will leave him for someone who can.
He is finally taking erectile dysfunction medication, but he seems to never be in the mood to initiate. I feel like I am badgering him. I know he is tired and stressed, but he is so sexy to me that I want him ALL the time, and the pressure I put on him only makes it worse. I try to tell him that I don’t need his penis to work for me to be sexually satisfied. I just need him to want me the way he used to. He says he will go to therapy with me, but not alone. We talk about our relationship issues, but he is exhausted by the fact that it always comes back to sex and my constant need for it. Non-monogamy is not really for us (although we have discussed my fantasy of bringing another male to the bedroom). I know I need to back off and give him some grace. It is his body, and I need to learn how to be patient. Still, my feelings of rejection and neglect are overwhelming sometimes. How can I reconcile my understanding of what he is physically/mentally going through with my overwhelming feelings of hurt and frustration?
—Actually Hot and Bothered
Dear Actually Hot and Bothered,
As a longtime reader, I’m guessing you’re aware of my philosophy that feelings can’t be forced—whether that’s you feeling satisfied, or your partner feeling desire. He probably does want, on some level, to want you the way he used to. You’re absolutely correct that patience, space, and grace are the best way to create conditions that are conducive to your partner feeling desire toward you. You know that men often deal with feelings of inadequacy around erectile dysfunction, and may have a hard time with their libido being lower than they feel it should be or than it used to be. And you’re aware that most of us worry, at some point, about whether our partners might leave us.
As an aside, absolutely do not pursue bringing in a third partner at this time. It’s too combustible. Even discussing the fantasy has a chance of adding more shame and pressure to what your partner is feeling.
Are you sure that the neglect you’re feeling is entirely related to sex? Your partner is juggling a lot, and I’m wondering whether you’ve perhaps enjoyed the sexual liberation you describe so thoroughly that you may not have noticed intimacy, connection, and support being somewhat absent in other areas. So take a long, sober look at the relationship. Do you get the amount of touch you need outside of sex? Is he emotionally available to a degree that is sufficient for you? Do you have ways of connecting outside of physical intimacy?
If everything else is healthy and happy, what can you do to increase the sexual gratification you get from your solo time? Sometimes this looks like adding props and media—a new vibrator, some different fantasies—and sometimes this looks like a kind of mindful minimalism. Whatever you’re doing right now, explore other directions.
As for reconciling what your mind knows with what you feel and what your body wants, therapy is absolutely an option. It may help to simply accept the fact that we sometimes have to hold disparate perspectives. Talking it out with trusted friends is another time-tested way of dealing with difficult feelings. Have a commiseration session—whether you’re all navigating similar hiccups or having different challenges, a group complaint night has a way of helping contextualize what we’re going through.
Lastly—and I know this is a wild thing for a sex advice columnist to say to someone who is fairly freshly sexually liberated—it might help to rein in your libido. What can you do to focus on other aspects of life? Or to sit with arousal and desire without letting it run free? This might give you the reprieve you’re looking for.
Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication.
Thanks! Your question has been submitted.
Dear How to Do It,
I am a 25-year-old woman who is into being a dom, as it serves as a major turn-on for me. The trouble is that I find that many (if not all) of the guys I go out with are decidedly not keen on the idea of playing the role of a sub. Am I going to have to restrict myself to circles with men who are into being subs if I want to satisfy my kink? Or should I try to see if I can convince someone who isn’t really into it to go along?
—No Luck With the Normies
Dear No Luck With the Normies,
Take a moment to look at your last question: ”convince someone who isn’t really into it.” That’s always a dodgy proposition when we’re talking about sex, and doubly so when the sex involves power exchange, restraint, or pain. Your potential lovers are people who deserve respect, autonomy, and care. Functional BDSM absolutely requires that the submissive’s boundaries and rights be respected—if that isn’t the case, it’s assault or coercion at best, and rape at worst.
When you question whether you’ll have to restrict yourself to circles of men who identify as subs, I imagine you’re wondering whether BDSM clubs and FetLife are your only dating options. While you’ll certainly have a more efficient time finding men who are open to submitting in those spaces, there are other avenues open to you. It’ll help to define what being a dom means to you, and what you’re looking for in a sub. Is this more about psychological role play? Service? Are sadism and masochism part of the equation? What do you need out of the experience to feel satisfied? Let’s say it’s about service—is a defined scenario important? Or will someone whose love language is “acts of service” and loves letting you sit on their face suffice? And does any dynamic need to be pervasive throughout the relationship, present in every sexual and flirtation interaction, or can it be confined to specific sexual moments?
Once you’ve got the clarity outlined above, you might look in places like Feeld, which tend to attract people who are, broadly speaking, sexually open. Or attend local events that are marketed as “sex positive” and meet people there. Negotiating relationships with a power dynamic is complex, which is why you’ll need details about exactly what you need to be fulfilled. Be prepared for lots of folks to say, “No, thank you.” That’s part of the reality of dating, whether the detail we’re navigating is a sexual interest, a personality quirk, or the demands of any number of careers. And, if it turns out that your interests are precise and narrow enough that you do essentially need to focus your search in classic BDSM spaces, ask yourself why that feels like confinement.
Send Us Your Questions About the Workplace!
The columnists behind our new advice column, Good Job, want to help you navigate your social dynamics at work. Does your colleague constantly bug you after hours? Has an ill-advised work romance gone awry? Ask us your question here!
Dear How to Do It,
My boyfriend of three months, “Alex,” refuses to go down on me. He says it’s nothing personal; he’s just never been into performing oral sex. Getting eaten out is one of my favorite bedroom activities. Should I try to convince Alex to give it a chance, or is this my cue to walk away?
—Missing Something
Dear Missing Something,
It’s worth making it clear to Alex that you’re willing to walk away over this, but I’d stop short of anything that might feel wheedling or manipulative. State the situation plainly: Receiving oral sex is important to your satisfaction, you won’t stay in a relationship where it isn’t part of the sex, and you’re hoping that he’ll be willing to give it a try with you, even though you know he’s never enjoyed it before. Whatever his answer is, accept that and make your choices accordingly with as little turmoil as possible.
—Jessica
More Advice From Slate
Two months ago, I discovered my husband’s secret social media account that he uses to look at porn. That part didn’t bother me—I knew that he watched porn sometimes and I told him I was OK with it. I even encouraged him to share videos that he liked with me, but he rarely did…
