Whilst waiting for several exciting articles to wend their way to my inbox and thus to share with you, I am doing something I try not to do–write two articles in one week. After all, there’s a world of interesting women out there, why would you want to listen to just moi?
However, there’s always the New York Times to remind us that things must be said.
I have been kindly accused by girlfriends of being “like a guy” about casual sex. My rules are:
1. Do not have sex to get emotionally closer to someone. If you can’t get to know someone with clothes on, whatever you discover with clothes off won’t help.
2. To preserve your self-respect, do not be the first to suggest you meet again, unless he’s obviously sweet/clueless/not a player.
3. Do what you want in bed, not what you think he wants. This way, at least you’ll have fun, and odds are he’ll have fun too.
4. I personally consider a bit of a snuggle afterward a common courtesy and think much more of a potential lover if he pulls me over to his side afterward. Of course, you may not want to, which is totally fine.
5. The cynical yet sweet spot for casual sex is someone you are very attracted to but don’t actually like. Trust me, it’s much worse if you really like him.
Confession: I find sex with someone I actually know a bit more challenging. Feelings get involved. Perceptions. Implications. I once had birthday sex in a car outside a castle in England and the entire time was annoyed with my boyfriend for not paying for my dinner. If I had just met him, I wouldn’t care how generous he was; he was gorgeous and we were parked in front of an English castle–how hot is that?!
Reading this recent article about Lybrido, a drug being tested for its libido-enhancing effect on women, I was struck by the writer’s reference to a study demonstrating that women living with their partner experience a dip in libido that women living on their own do not.
What if, I thought, it all comes down to the Miranda Moment?
In season three of Sex and the City, Miranda is driven to break up with Steve after living with him exhausts her. The skidmarks, the crazy puppy–his easygoing attitude attracts her to him but living with someone that relaxed makes her nuts.
The Lybrido drug study is noteworthy because it’s also a study of monogamous women. Single women are theoretically only going to have sex when they reallyreallyreally want to, so they don’t need this drug. The woman in an LTR, climbing into bed with the same man every night, is this drug’s target market. In other words, the drug is for Miranda, living with Steve, skidmarks and all.
The women quoted in this article sound mystified as to why they just don’t want to have sex anymore. The Victorian and still prevalent explanation would be that they’re not really supposed to, that women were not given Adam’s libido when they were given his rib. Oh, wait, am I mixing up my sources here? Or maybe they are.
When I have enjoyed a casual sexual encounter it has largely been because there were no implications. I didn’t have to like the person. When a one night stand has turned into actual dating or a relationship I usually find myself bailing faster than an extra in the last forty minutes of Titanic. Even just last winter I wound up dating someone after having wild ‘n crazy I-hate-family-gatherings pre-holiday sex. Two weeks later I was pretending to feel sick so he’d let me go to sleep. It only took two weeks for me to act like every wife quoted in this article. Why? Because in getting to know him, sex was becoming intimate, and intimate sex is about feelings, and my feelings about him as I began to know him more intimately were. . .
I didn’t like him.
He was still the same man physically and sexually that had made me shriek only a week before. But now that my feelings were negative rather than neutral, I had lost interest in shrieking.
I call bullshit on the aged concept that women just don’t want or enjoy sex as much as men do. I do, however, know that a woman may love her husband but simply not find him that sexy anymore. End of story. There is cultural precedence for a man in that situation simply admitting that. A woman on the other hand will act confused and throw up her hands, as though totally confused. Give me this drug. Anything to avoid admitting that I am having wet dreams about the mailman.
It would be really exciting to hear about millions of dollars pumped into helping these “sexually dysfunctional” women explore that instead of giving them a pill.