CHAPTER 10

When You’re in a Committed Relationship and You’re Not Sexually Compatible

It’s not just good sex that makes a relationship better; it’s all that goes into knowing the purpose and meaning of our desires and connecting with a partner who understands and is willing to explore his or hers as well.

Following the steps of intelligent lust together fosters friendship—a special kind of connection based on intimacy, respect, and courage that provides a loving context for handling whatever discoveries emerge.

Sadly, some couples may discover they are not sexually compatible, or one spouse may not be prepared to act out what he or she has discovered or may wish to keep his or her fantasies as private. Even so, having a deeper understanding of the real source of their differences may enable those couples to come to terms with them. This doesn’t necessarily mean the relationship is over. On the contrary, after a period of acknowledging and accepting the truth, partners realize that choices can be made. New roads can open to fulfillment. Some agree to continue the marriage without sex because they feel other areas of compatibility issues matter more; others make an attempt to consciously address their partner’s sexual needs and actually find joy in the act of giving; some take an unconventional approach and consider open relationships, three-ways, or partner swapping, all of which have the potential to strengthen a partnership. And a few choose to end the marriage, knowing the decision was made for the right reasons.

Three couples I worked with in therapy came to different solutions for handling the challenges that sex presented to their relationships. A fourth couple, the last, was treated by Alyssa.

REDISCOVERING SEXUAL COMPATIBILITY: HANK AND MARION

Hank took Marion to a health spa for a weekend of renewal including healthy food, massage, and meditation. It was part of their decision to trade their ambitious, fast-paced lives as dual-career lawyers and doting parents, for lives that were “better balanced,” as Hank put it. Hank also had another agenda. He planned to use the opportunity to raise the issue of sex, which had been troubling him for some time. They had been married eight years and for the last three had only been sexual a dozen or so times. While they were sexually active in their early years of marriage, they had become single-mindedly focused on their jobs, working late hours and social networking. They were also raising two demanding children, which usually left them “too exhausted to even think about sex.” At least that’s what they told themselves and each other.

The truth was that Hank was more frustrated than he let on to Marion. He was also very close to having an affair when he came to see me for therapy two months earlier. He had been flirting with a colleague for more than six months but had just recently stopped short of spending the night with her.

“I love my wife,” he told me. “She doesn’t deserve that and neither do I. I’m not sure I could live with myself afterwards. But, frankly, sex with my wife sucks.”

“What does Marion say about it?” I asked.

“She doesn’t say much. She makes excuses like, ‘I’m exhausted; the kids are still awake; I have this brief to finish.’ That’s all true, but I don’t want to give up sex for the next ten years until our kids are grown up.” He lowered his eyes.

“What’s it like when you do have sex?” I asked.

“She’s just not there. She doesn’t seem interested. It feels like she just wants to get it over with.”

“What was sex like before you had children?” I wanted to track the history to determine whether the problem existed before their lives had grown so busy. My question proved useful.

“To be honest, we had a lot of sex when we first got together. But it went stale after a couple of years. I think the problem was there before the kids came. But we were both pretty single-minded about our careers and ignored it. We let sex drift away. Neither of us complained. Sometimes we would have sex just to remind ourselves that we were still capable of it.”

“Why does it matter now?” I asked curiously.

“Well I gained a lot of weight during the marriage. You wouldn’t know that by looking at me now. About a year ago, I started going to the gym. I lost all the weight I gained and more. I got in very good shape. Women started to notice me again, and I started feeling sexual.”

“Did you try to reintroduce sex with Marion at that time?”

“Yep, but it didn’t go anywhere. She got resentful. I initiated sex quite a few times, but essentially, she rejected me and I decided I didn’t want to push her into something she didn’t want to do. What would be the point of that?”

“Did you talk about your feelings with her then?”

“No, I didn’t know how. I’m no prude, but talking about sex just isn’t part of my vocabulary.”

Though they were both highly educated and successful people, it seemed clear that sex was a touchy subject. Neither seemed capable of engaging in a productive conversation about it, though I didn’t understand the specific reasons why yet. I felt the most useful way to help Hank would be to include Marion in following the steps of intelligent lust right from the start. Since they had already determined to lead healthier lives, I suggested that Hank and Marion come to therapy together as part of that project.

“I don’t want her to feel ambushed by us into a conversation, so I would like for you to speak to her about sex first,” I said.

I coached Hank on how best to bring up the issue using the guidelines presented in this book. Hank agreed, and a few months later, after he and Marion had spent the weekend away, he called to arrange an appointment.

“What did Hank tell you about coming here?” I asked during the first few minutes of our initial session together.

“He told me that he would like us to work on our sexual relationship. He didn’t say much else.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I think he’s right.”

“How do you imagine doing that?”

“We’ll just set aside time after the kids are asleep and get it done.”

Her manner of speaking was efficient; her words seemed rehearsed. Since I had seen her husband alone, I imagined that some of her anxiety could be attributed to her concern about what I had already been told. The fact was that Hank had admitted he had a “flirtation,” and he and I held that secret. I wasn’t certain if it was necessary to raise the issue, but I made the decision then that it wouldn’t be in either’s best interest at that time.

“I’m a morning person,” Hank said with a half-smile.

Marion imitated his smile. “I’m not and I certainly don’t want to get up any earlier to have sex.” She was clearly annoyed.

“You never want to have sex,” Hank responded.

They sat silently for a moment, then I spoke up. “Imagine for a moment, that the problem wasn’t that you were busy and exhausted, that you were relaxed and comfortable at home. What would the problem with sex be then?” I was addressing both of them.

“Tell him what you told me over the weekend,” Hank said shyly.

She sat silently as if she were resisting his request.

Hank filled in the silence. “She told me I was too aggressive. That I just thought of myself—about what I wanted…”

“I said you weren’t a particularly sensitive lover,” she said, clarifying the meaning.

“What’s your reaction to that?” I asked Hank.

“I was surprised. I thought I was taking care of her.”

“On your terms as always,” Marion said, raising her voice.

I asked her to explain.

“It’s the same as with everything else in our lives. It has to be on his terms. How, when, what we do. It’s all his way. It’s no different with sex.”

“Honestly, I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Come on, Hank, how could you not know what I want?”

“We never talked about it. I just assumed…”

“I wonder,” I said to Marion, “what would your terms be regarding sex?”

“I’m glad someone asked. That’s never happened before.”

Hank looked embarrassed. “I just assumed she wanted me to be in charge. We’re both strong-willed, but in the bedroom I just figured, I’m the guy, I take over.”

“What century are you living in?” Marion quipped.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I just didn’t know that’s what you wanted.” He stood accused and convicted.

I returned to my original question to Marion. “How do you want sex to be?” I asked her gently.

“I don’t really know. I’ve never had the chance to think about it. He’s always pushing himself on me.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “But can you think about it now?”

She thought for a minute, then looked at me directly and said, “I’m not sure where this is going. Therapy is his idea.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “Do you have another way?”

She dropped her guard and for a tender moment I could see the hurt child. “No.”

“Let’s give this a try then,” I said.

Her hostility seemed to ease slightly. I made the leap. I explained the first step of intelligent lust and sent them home with the task that each independently thinks about their fantasies and what their true sexual desires might be.

When they returned a week later, Marion said that she had difficulty staying focused on the assignment since she could barely get any private time. Again, she seemed angry.

“When you did have time to think about it, what came into your mind?” I asked gently.

“I don’t know that I want to share it with you or Hank for that matter.”

“How are we going to get anywhere if you don’t participate?” Hank insisted.

“Listen,” she said. “Going to therapy is your idea. Again, everything is on your terms.” Her guard was back up.

Hank looked at me helplessly.

“Is there a way we can continue to talk that would make you feel more comfortable?” I said, respectfully giving her control of the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t get the premise of this. I really don’t want to talk about my fantasies. The point is that Hank is controlling and I want him to stop.”

“And if he stops?” I asked.

“I already have,” Hank said, jumping in. “I heard what you said last week. And I got it. I really paid attention to how I am with you. I think you’re right.” He paused. “Now it’s up to you. Tell me what to do.”

“Ugh. Another demand,” she said.

“Let’s not do another round of this,” I said pleadingly.

“You’re right,” she said, softening a bit. “Let’s not do this again.” She paused long enough to rethink her approach.

“Okay. My fantasy is not that complicated. I want to be made love to. Not overwhelmed, not taken, made love to. Not controlled. Soft, tender, sweet, as if I were a d-e-l-i-c-a-t-e creature.” She spelled the word out for emphasis.

Hank looked surprised. He reached over to touch her arm, but she gently pushed his hand away.

“I honestly thought you liked me being aggressive. I don’t want to hurt you, but, I mean, you’re often combative. You’ve told me more than once that I was the only one who ever stood up to you.”

“Yes, that’s true. It’s why I married you. But there’s a difference in being strong and being controlling and selfish. Especially in bed. You asked me my fantasy and that’s what it is.”

There was silence.

“I’m relieved,” Hank finally said. “I’d love to drop my guard and relax with you even for a minute. Just be together with no pressure. I’ve always felt like I had to perform—to be strong. I wouldn’t mind some tenderness myself. When I did the homework, what I imagined was very sweet and gentle. I was the romantic hero, the prince, shining knight. You know.”

By the end of that session, the hostility between them had palpably changed. The sword hand been dropped and they actually were communicating what they felt. I suggested that they not attempt to have sex while we were exploring the issues, but for homework that week I asked them to think about childhood experiences in which they had similar experiences to what they felt in the marriage. I said to Marion, “Think about those times when you needed to protect and defend yourself.” Marion laughed.

“When didn’t I have to protect myself?” she said.

When I asked what she meant, she said, “I grew up in a really hostile household. Lots of fighting. Believe me, I never rested.”

The next, week when they returned, the atmosphere between them was decidedly warmer. Marion said that she did her homework and could remember having a lot of daydreams as a child and teenager about being saved from the hostilities at home by a kindly stranger. When we talked about how she might have eroticized those feelings, she remembered that her earliest sexual fantasies were of being rescued by a handsome stranger, “I know it’s a cliché, but a kind of knight-in-shining-armor who took me away.” These fantasies continued through her adult years until, overwhelmed with ambition and responsibility, she stopped thinking about sex altogether. For the first time, she revealed the vulnerable child hidden behind her guardedness and the secret fantasy of being rescued from the war zone that was her parental home.

Hank, on the other hand, had grown up with two “kind, but ineffectual parents” who spent long days at underpaid jobs at the same manufacturing company where they had worked for thirty years. “Never the type to complain,” though their sacrifice was obvious, they raised four children on a very tight budget, rarely earning enough money to enjoy even the simplest pleasures of life. A devoted son, Hank remembers making a vow as a teenager to find a way to make his parents’ lives easier—to eventually rescue them from their economic hardships.

“I became a lawyer mostly for them. I knew I’d make great money and be able to help them.” When we talked about these feelings in connection to sex, he remembered that during his childhood he was preoccupied with “superheroes who rescued victims from villains.” As he put the pieces of the sexual puzzle together, he recognized that during his teens, he had eroticized those feelings in fantasies in which he also played the hero, sometimes even wearing tights and a cape.

Through our discussions over the next few sessions, Hank began to understand that Marion needed a hero too, and it wasn’t the tough guy he assumed it would be. He felt excited, even aroused by the idea that he could be her hero by acting more like a gentle lover.

In our last sessions both were more lighthearted. They seemed to appreciate their discovery—how sexually compatible they actually were. “I always knew we were meant for each other,” he said. “I just had the wrong approach.”

Finally, I coached them on how to enact their fantasies, including capes, tights, and more.

CREATING AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP: JAMES AND ROBERT

As a same-sex couple, James and Robert were left to negotiate the division of roles in their relationship without any visible role models or maps to follow. Over time, they chose responsibilities that were best suited for them rather than ones decided by gender as often happens in heterosexual relationships. James paid the bills and did most of the cooking. Robert acted as handyman and did more of the household chores.

Together for five years, they celebrated their commitment in a ceremony two years before they came to see me for therapy. Like many gay men, sex had been in their consciousness from the time when they first had a sense of their “differentness.” By the time they met when James was thirty-eight and Robert, thirty-four, both had many sexual experiences and a few short relationships through which they refined their sexual tastes and preferences. James enjoyed sex most as a “dominant top,” with “straight-acting” though sexually passive men. Robert also liked topping, though he preferred sex with men who were aggressive bottoms who would ultimately surrender to him.

Their courtship was slow. They met playing rugby on opposing teams in a national gay league. They took time getting to know each other, each alternately organizing weekly dates planned around cultural life in New York. They were physically attracted to each other but took sex slowly too. When they finally had sex after a few months of dating, they had already developed serious feelings for each other. Sex was more than recreational.

Robert was more flexible sexually and, at first, willing to bottom for James, though he also preferred being the top. Since everything else in the relationship “seemed great,” Robert continued to go along with sex as it was, occasionally complaining about the lack of James’s sexual versatility. At those times, James would try to bottom, but “it never really worked” and they would quickly return to old habits. Over time, sex between them became less frequent.

Otherwise, they created a warm, supportive family of friends whom they enjoyed entertaining. Both became excellent cooks and they competed to outshine the other’s talent in the kitchen, but always with a sense of humor and goodwill.

Secretly though, Robert had slowly been building resentment. Then one evening, according to James, “he went ballistic about sex,” shocking James and himself, particularly because they rarely had a cross word.

“I had a tantrum about how rigid James is sexually,” Robert said. Afterward, they had several calmer, though serious, conversations in which they discussed the problem and possible solutions. That’s when they requested a consultation with me.

“We’re not very sexually compatible,” they both agreed. When I asked them how they were so certain, James offered, “It’s just not working with sex. We don’t enjoy the same things or more accurately, we both enjoy doing the same thing. I know what I’m into and what works for me. I don’t enjoy getting fucked and neither does Bobby. We love each other and have a lot in common. We have a great life together, but sex is a big problem.”

“We don’t want to break up,” added Robert, “but neither of us is about to give up having sex for the rest of our lives. So what we decided was to open up the relationship to sex with other men.”

“We need your help figuring out the rules,” James said.

Since they seemed so certain of their sexual desires, having gone through the equivalent steps of intelligent lust independently, I agreed to help them negotiate a plan for how they could open their relationship to other sexual partners with honesty and respect. I started by asking what they each imagined as their ideal situation.

“Occasionally, I’d like to hook up with men I meet at the gym or online,” Robert answered.

“How often is occasionally?” I asked.

“That’s hard to say. Maybe every few weeks. I don’t know; whenever it happens.”

“That sounds like more than occasionally,” James said.

“I guess you’re right,” he laughed. “How about regularly then?”

They both laughed now. “Don’t get me wrong. I like sex a lot, but I don’t want either of us to be spending all our free time on the Internet fishing for men,” James added.

“Neither do I,” Robert said sweetly. “I love the time we spend together. This isn’t about that.”

“What about starting with three-ways?” James asked.

“Nope. I don’t think that would work. I don’t mind your having sex with other men, but I’m not ready yet to watch you. Maybe down the road, but not now. How about we limit it to once a month unless someone great turns up?”

James nodded.

“Do you want each other to know when you’re planning on having sex, or after you’ve had sex? Do you want to know who it’s going to be with, or should it be a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy?” I asked.

“I want to know,” said James. “I would rather we are up front and deal with the truth.”

“Agreed,” said Robert. “Sneaking around won’t work. But this is going to take a lot of trust. I would actually like it if we ask each other for permission before we hook up.”

“Hmmm. What? Call you and ask if it’s okay? That might be a little weird. ‘Excuse me, Frank, while I call my boyfriend and see if it’s okay to fuck you.’”

They both laughed.

“Here’s what I think,” James said. “We can change it later if we want, but I don’t think we should have to ask for permission so long as it doesn’t interfere with being together. No breaking plans to have sex. Giving each other permission feels too parental.” He turned to me. “Any suggestions?”

I thought a moment, and then answered. “Yes. Most people who succeed at open relationships care deeply about their primary partner, which seems to be the situation between the two of you. I understand your concern about asking permission each time, but I think since you’re doing this out of deep respect for each other’s needs, the most challenging part of this will be to preserve those feelings of respect. Some people ask how their partner feels about them having sex with someone else each time. That’s not the same as asking permission, but it does give each of you the opportunity to say, ‘That’s not cool right now,’ if there is some reason you can’t handle it at that moment. There are a lot of surprises when you open up a relationship, and I think it’s best when partners navigate one event at a time.”

They both nodded their heads in agreement.

“It’s a subtle distinction you’re making. Asking about how Robert feels versus asking for his permission,” James said. “I get your point.”

“I like the idea,” Robert added.

“What else do we need to think about?” James asked.

“There’s always a risk of becoming involved or attached to a sexual partner,” I said. “I suppose that will be the true test of your feelings for each other. Some people make rules to try and to avoid that.”

“What kind of rules?” James asked.

“Like never seeing the same person more than once.”

“I like that idea,” James said.

“I do too.”

“What about bringing someone home?” I asked.

“I’m against that. I don’t want strangers coming into the house.”

James agreed.

“And what about overnights?” I asked.

“I definitely don’t think we should stay overnight with anyone else either,” Robert answered.

“One last thing then,” I said. “Where do you stand with safe sex?”

“We always have safe sex with each other—condoms only. I don’t think that’s an issue,” Robert said. “Do you?”

“Of course not. We’re both thankfully HIV negative and that’s not going to change. We’re not self-destructive.”

We ended the session with a symbolic gentlemen’s handshake, affirming the boundaries set forth.

When we met again three months later, Robert and James talked openly about their experiences. Both had honored the rules, and except for a few instances of rivalry in which Robert felt competitive with James because he was “getting hit on more frequently,” things seemed to have gone well. We talked about feelings of jealousy, but neither experienced anything strong enough to have raised it as an issue. In fact, they both agreed there was less resentment and tension in the relationship, and they were better off for having opened it.

“What have you learned about yourselves during these months?” I asked.

“It’s more what I learned about Robert,” James answered. “He’s really enjoying himself. I want that for him. I don’t feel threatened in any way. What he does has nothing to do with how he feels about me. In fact, what we’re doing really speaks to the strength of our relationship. It doesn’t feel fake. I mean, you have to really love someone to work through this stuff. We have nothing holding us together, no marriage license, nothing but how we feel about each other every day.”

Robert smiled genuinely.

CROSSING CONVENTIONAL BOUNDARIES TOGETHER: MARGOT AND BILLY

Like most couples, Margot and Billy had married without much discussion of sex. For the two years since, both imagined the other enjoyed their lovemaking, though privately each felt detached and unsatisfied. They cared about each other deeply, got along well in most ways, and shared similar values about life. But without honest communication about sex, which each withheld for fear of upsetting the other, they had grown quietly more distant.

When Margot, with my encouragement, finally asked Billy if they could talk about their sex lives, he actually felt relieved. Since then, they’ve had regular conversations in which they followed the steps of intelligent lust. Each had come to recognize what he or she had eroticized earlier in their lives as well as the meaning behind those desires.

Margot’s mother was a ballet dancer who retired after a knee injury. She had pinned her hopes on her only daughter, pushing her into ballet class and local performances at an early age. She called on Margot, who was by nature shy and reluctant, at every social occasion to dance for friends and family. “Frankly,” Margot told me, “I had no talent and no interest, but that never stopped my mother. She was determined for me to be the star she never was.”

By the time Margot reached adolescence, she resented both dance and her mother’s control. Despite these feelings, she began daydreaming about performing for school friends and boys from the neighborhood. She had read the story of Salome for a school project and imagined herself as the beautiful seductress, dancing with her seven veils. Gradually, her daydreams became sexual fantasies in which she imagined herself dancing naked in front of men. Without knowing it, she had eroticized the painful feelings that surrounded her mother’s demands, bringing instead deep pleasure to the very thing she feared and hated. As she grew into adulthood, the majority of her masturbatory fantasies focused on having sex while being watched. Yet, because these fantasies also felt as if she were surrendering to her mother, she made a decision to avoid sex altogether and, therefore, rarely engaged in it.

“No one would know it,” Margot said to me early in our therapy. “If I would let myself go, I would be a full-blown exhibitionist.”

Billy, on the other hand, felt invisible as a child. He was the middle of five siblings, and while he wasn’t neglected, he did feel overlooked. A shy boy, Billy was small for his age and didn’t mature as rapidly as his brother or peers at school. One day when he was fourteen, he walked in on his older brother having sex with his girlfriend. From that time on, Billy couldn’t get the images out of his thoughts. Soon he began masturbating, imagining other people having sex, never picturing himself engaging in it. He was always the observer—the voyeur. In his unconscious mind, he had merged the episode with his brother with childhood feelings of invisibility and, from that crucible, created an erotic fantasy that brought pleasure to what had caused unhappiness and confusion. Now, as an adult, his sexuality was dependent on not being seen or actually participating in sex, a secret that kept him emotionally and sexually distant from Margot. That was, until they began speaking about it with my encouragement.

Instead of feeling threatened, Margot and Billy found the honesty of these conversations had sparked a sense of discovery and excitement. When Margot finally shared with Billy her fantasies of performing sexually for an audience of men, he laughed, rather than expressing outrage as she expected. He immediately confessed that he shared her fantasy and had been secretly imagining her with other men as a way of climaxing on the rare occasions they had sex. The conversations brought them emotionally closer, and soon they started discussing how they could act out their mutual fantasies safely. When Margot finally suggested they visit a sex club, Billy jumped at the idea, and together they searched the Internet. They decided on a club in another city because there would be less chance of running into anyone they knew. They planned a weekend away and agreed to a series of ground rules for how they would conduct themselves at the club, even creating a discreet “stop signal,” a tug to the earlobe, to signal their discomfort with anything that happened.

Going to the sex club was enormously exciting, though not without anxiety. They were, after all, betraying the social conventions with which they were raised.

Checking their clothing at the door, they entered a room full of other couples engaged in various forms of sex. The freedom to be sexual in a public place, or in Billy’s case to watch people being sexual, was immediately liberating and thrilling for both of them. With Billy’s consent, Margot eventually joined in and, like Salome, teased and seduced a group of men and women. Amazingly, Billy felt no jealousy. In fact, he experienced Margot’s behavior as an act of love and generosity, which turned him on sexually even more. No one had ever placed his needs first. In fact, his parents hadn’t bothered to find out what he needed. For the first time in his life, he felt taken care of. Not only could he fulfill his voyeuristic longings while still partnered to Margot, but Margot also offered him the respect and generosity that had been missing in his life. He truly felt “seen.” And he delighted in the knowledge that he could help her satisfy her own desires.

For weeks after, they discussed their feelings about the experience. The act of expressing their erotic fantasies by transgressing sexual conventions opened up conversations about trust, jealousy, rivalry, boundaries, and limits, further deepening the intimacy and bond between them. Where Margot had always felt controlled and disrespected by her mother, she now felt profoundly appreciated and respected by the person who mattered most in her life.

They dared to invent a life, regardless of the family and social rules with which they were raised, in which they acknowledged powerful longings and desires, giving pleasure to themselves and each other as well as depth and substance to the relationship.

• • •

Sometimes a couple may choose to refrain from acting out their fantasies if it is too far out of the comfort zone of one member, such as when one partner’s fantasies involve the physical pain or humiliation of another, which is in conflict with that partner’s erotic desires. In such cases boundaries can be drawn and a middle ground can be reached that both partners find exciting. Other times, the intimacy gained by openly discussing sexual differences can lead to surprising new sexual possibilities, as in the case of Sue and Tina.

ALYSSA’S CASE: LEAVING FANTASIES ALONE: SUE AND TINA

Sue and Tina came into therapy primarily to determine whether their sex life could be improved and, if not, how much it mattered. Sue, who had just turned twenty-eight, and Tina, thirty-two, met two years earlier through mutual friends and immediately hit it off. Tina had already built a successful business as an interior designer, and Sue worked part-time in retail and was attending school for graphic design. They quickly became close and within six months were living together. Like many couples, sex was hot for the first six to nine months of their relationship, but as the novelty wore off, sex had rapidly decreased in frequency and intensity. When they entered therapy, they had not been intimate in four months.

“Sue is just not that into sex anymore,” Tina said with an edge of frustration in her voice. “She says that she just has a low sex drive. I don’t really know what’s changed. Things used to be really good in the bedroom. I love her and I want to make this work. But I am totally not okay with having a non-sexual relationship. I don’t know what to do. We have talked about an open relationship, but as much as I want sex, I’ve tried that before and it really didn’t work for me.”

When I asked Sue about what had changed for her, she, too, was unsure. “I don’t really know. I have never been that into sex. I want to make Tina happy. I understand her wanting to have sexual relationships with other people. She’s not like me. But I am not totally cool with it. I think it would just push us further apart. So I do want us to start having sex again. But right now, I feel like it’s more for her than for me. Honestly, I care more about the other stuff. Family and companionship. That stuff.”

When I inquired about how Tina felt about this, she said that she was feeling deeply rejected. She thought that Sue’s lack of interest in sex was because Sue just didn’t feel attracted to her. Her attempts to initiate sex with Sue were regularly rejected, which had left her feeling sad and alone.

I talked in detail with them about the ideas behind intelligent lust and urged Sue and Tina to attempt the first steps on their own. Initially, I explained the work would be mostly personal, in which they could privately explore their individual desires and their origin. “But that ultimately the goal,” I said, “would be to share what they had learned.”

Tina wasted no time. She bought a journal and in it started to record her fantasies, things she thought about when masturbating, experiences she wanted to try, things she had done in the past that she found highly exciting. She described several short-term and two longer relationships, the more recent of which lasted five years and was with a woman whom she described as very “sex positive” but ultimately unavailable. She considered herself very sexually experienced, preferring the role of “butch top” with a more “fem” woman, but what became clearer through the “homework” was that she had a strong desire to dominate, even punish, her partner. She suspected having such desires for as long as she had been sexual, though she hadn’t really allowed herself to fully acknowledge them, much less express them with a partner. “It’s kind of threatening to think of myself that way,” she said. “The only way I can imagine it is if I were in a relationship in which we both felt safe and it was playful.”

When I inquired about her family life, she told me that she was the youngest of four and described her parents as “wealthy hippies.” She realized she was attracted to girls at the age of twelve and started to sexually experiment with friends when she was thirteen. Her disclosure to her parents, at sixteen, was met with support, even celebration. Tina speculated that her desire to dominate might be a reaction to having had very few boundaries or structure in her childhood. “I never really felt anyone was in control. There was something free about that, but it didn’t always feel safe,” she said. “Sometimes I acted out just to see if there was some sort of consequence, but there never was. In my fantasies, I’m definitely in charge. I even enjoy tying my partner up and punishing her.” She laughed. “Maybe I want to punish my parents.”

Sue was obviously uncomfortable during my discussion with Tina and also had a much harder time with the assignment. She came to the session reporting that she had not yet had the time to start the work. Respecting her discomfort, I asked her if she thought that it might be helpful to come for an individual session in which we could explore the steps together. I offered the same to Tina, clarifying that they as a couple were my client and thus I would not keep secrets from either one of them, so the individual session was merely an opportunity to discuss aspects of each woman’s sexuality that they might struggle to address while together at this time. These sessions might also, I explained, help us address any barriers either one of them might be encountering to doing this work.

While my meeting with Tina went smoothly and we more deeply explored her desires and their origin, Sue, when alone, struggled again to find the words to describe both her sexual history and her feelings about sex now. Over the course of the hour, however, she began to settle in to it and even seemed to find relief in talking. Sue described her household as restrictive in communication and affection and her parents as not afraid to slap or spank to reprimand their children. Her father was a drinker, and despite the family’s Christian values, both she and her brother knew that their father was engaging in an affair. Their mother, when they tried to discuss this with her, immediately shut the conversation down in an accusatory fashion, and it was never brought up again. It was an unhappy and threatening childhood.

Sue described a much different experience than Tina had when she came to understand that she was interested romantically, not in men, as her parents dictated, but in women. Sue left home at sixteen and did not speak to her parents for three years. At nineteen, urged on by a therapist, Sue attempted to reengage with her parents and at this time told them that she was gay. Their outright rejection of her resulted in her continued detachment from her family. Her brother, with whom she had been close, also rejected her.

When I asked Sue about the details of her sexual history, she told me she often dated straight women or women who were already involved with a partner, thus making them ultimately unavailable and rejecting. I pointed out how these relationships seemed to echo her relationship with her parents.

Tina was Sue’s first long-term partner and as such was her first opportunity to explore a sexual relationship beyond the usual “honeymoon phase” when the newness of a partner or the uncertainty of their attention was enough to sustain excitement. Tina was not rejecting Sue as others had. To the contrary, Tina was “hot” for her, which was a new experience and completely confused her. It soon became apparent to both of us that while rejection had seeped into every aspect of her life—she had even sought rejection out—her true desire, what she had eroticized in her earliest sexual and romantic fantasies, was being treasured in a way that she had never been. “Hot” for Sue was not being dominated, tied up, or punished; it was being cherished, adored, and loved.

In our next session together, we frankly discussed the differences in their sexual desires and the challenges it presented. Sue told Tina that Tina’s fantasies frightened her because they were too much like her parents’ treatment of her. “I get now that was the reason why I turned off to you. It’s not because I’m not attracted to you. It’s just too far out of my comfort zone.”

Tina thanked her. “I didn’t really understand that. It helps to know that.”

Tina then took the opportunity to share with Sue more about herself—her history and the complexity of her desires. She explained that while she found the idea of dominating Sue hot, it wasn’t all that she desired.

“There’s a lot about you I love,” Tina said. “I would love at some point to be able to experience some of my fantasies with you. And to not feel ashamed of my desires. I don’t feel like there is anything wrong with them. But I get where you’re coming from. And I care a lot more right now about being close with you than I do about just acting out my fantasies. It means a lot to me that you’re even willing to talk about this stuff at all with me, and I’m willing to go slow with it.”

Both women had relaxed by the end of this session. They agreed that it was the most intimate conversation they had ever had together and that they felt closer than they had in a long time.

At the next session, they said they had tried something completely different. It started with Tina giving Sue a massage, which allowed her to feel in charge and Sue to feel treasured. Other physical but mostly nonsexual touches followed. “For the first time,” Tina said, “we really paid attention to each other’s bodies. It was so relaxed and pleasurable.”

Sue nodded her head in agreement.

Tina went on. “I don’t know what will happen in the future, and it’s not the hottest sex I’ve ever had, to be honest, but it’s definitely pretty cool.”

ALYSSA’S THOUGHTS

Monogamy

I think that most people, gay and straight alike, feel that having a lifelong partner is preferable to going through life alone or with a series of affairs or even serious shorter-term relationships. What many tell me is that that life would feel too self-involved without a partner, even in light of the pain and conflict that might occur over the course of a long-term relationship. In fact, they say, working through these struggles contributes to life’s meaning and purpose. For this group, monogamy is not only a desire, but also considered a necessary condition of the relationship—a means of protecting its stability and sustainability.

I also see in my practice other men and women who are openly exploring alternatives to monogamy. Some younger clients are even trying out polyamory. These folks are asking questions such as “Is long-term commitment a desirable goal?” and “Is it preferable to go through life coupled to the same person, or is it equally enriching to have multiple partners whatever the duration of the relationships?” Many of these young people have been raised in families in which their parents’ marriages have failed or in which they experienced their parents as hopelessly entrapped. They fear duplicating what they perceive as rigid models of relationships and are instead experimenting with alternatives. Many have participated in or witnessed how the gay community is reinventing ideas about sexuality and partnership outside of marriage, including the creation of families of choice. The result is a more fluid view of what a significant relationship can be.

What is different, perhaps revolutionary, about intelligent lust is that it encourages people to understand and explore their sexuality honestly, openly, and responsibly without presuppositions. Out of this process, monogamy becomes a choice based on what is right for the individuals involved, a choice to be seriously discussed and evaluated rather than followed as a prescription of religious and social norms or some assumed or unspoken rule.

My opinion is that a restorative relationship, as described in this book, has many advantages. It provides the opportunity for partners to fully explore their sexuality over time. Certainly these relationships have their challenges, even when they are founded on generosity and respect. I think the trick to their long-term success is in maintaining an ongoing conversation about sex even when it’s difficult, such as when we feel sexually interested in people other than our partners. When these feelings do occur, we must acknowledge them to each other and make an intelligent decision about what to do rather than keeping them secret or sweeping the issue under the carpet. It’s secrecy that usually threatens relationships. I think monogamy does not necessarily improve the chances of a relationship’s survival; it’s the ongoing conversation about our feelings and the freedom to reexamine choices that makes the difference. Keeping the truth hidden can be subversive.

The steps of intelligent lust help us cultivate the self-esteem and confidence to acknowledge such truths. Guiding my clients through the steps gives them the information they need to make relevant and meaningful choices about their lives. Knowledge is power. Rather than dividing a couple, discovering and sharing knowledge will lead to greater intimacy and understanding.

In my work, I do my best not to impose my beliefs or preference on clients. As individuals, I think we should consider all the possibilities open to us, weigh the consequences, and make the choices that promote the greatest growth and health for all concerned. Nothing should be assumed or taken for granted. You read earlier in the book about some of the choices that couples made when they encountered differences in their sexual preferences that could ultimately have divided them. You can follow their solutions or invent your own. Freud said that marriage was both a “prison and a refuge.” I think the constant element of choice helps keep marriage from imprisoning us.