part0010

Your answers to fifteen simple questions can help me to predict what types of things are likely to turn you on—and what types of things are likely to turn you off. All I need is a little information about your demographic background, your personality, and your sexual history. Below, we’ll explore each of these fifteen questions in turn and explain why they’re important for understanding Americans’ sexual desires. I’ll draw upon insights gleaned from my survey, but I’ll also bring in the science that can help you to better understand what your fantasies say about who you are and where you are in life. Note that your gender, of course, also says a lot about your desires; however, because gender was considered extensively in the previous chapter, we won’t really be talking about it much here.

Before we begin exploring the origins of our fantasies, let me first caution you that there isn’t a singular cause for any of the fantasies mentioned in this book. What this means is that, although Americans share a lot of fantasies in common, they don’t necessarily develop those fantasies for the same reasons. Thus, as we start exploring where our fantasies come from, please keep in mind that there are multiple routes to any given fantasy. Remember, too, that a fantasy can be constructed in many different ways depending on the person. So, while two people might have fantasies that reflect the same general theme—like BDSM—odds are that those fantasies will have very distinct scripts.

I should also say that if we discuss a particular trait you have that’s linked to greater odds of having a certain fantasy, but you don’t happen to have that fantasy, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the data are wrong or that there’s something wrong with you. Remember that our fantasies have complex origins. Your personality and life experiences don’t make you destined to have certain fantasies—at most, they simply increase the likelihood that you’ll fantasize about some things more than others. Whether we actually come to fantasize about a given person, place, or thing depends upon the convergence of several factors. Therefore, we really need to look at a person’s entire constellation of traits to understand that individual’s fantasies, as opposed to looking at just one trait in isolation.

It’s worth mentioning that there are some personality traits and characteristics that are linked to fantasizing more about almost everything. I’m not going to dwell on those traits here because they really don’t discriminate between people who have different kinds of fantasies—these are traits that, for the most part, simply predispose us to having more fantasies in general about a wide range of content. These include having an overactive imagination, possessing a strong sex drive, having very favorable attitudes toward sex, having a preference for thrilling and risky sexual experiences, having an easy time separating sex from emotion, and being open to trying new things in general. All of these traits are linked to more fantasies about the seven major themes we identified earlier in this book, with few exceptions.

One final point before we get to our fifteen-question countdown: when it comes to the factors that predict our sex fantasies, we don’t always know for sure which came first, the trait or the fantasy. Because we’re dealing with correlational data here, we cannot make definitive cause-and-effect statements. As a result, while I’ve framed this chapter from the perspective of how your personal traits may predispose you to having certain fantasies, I’m mindful of the limitations of the data, which is why you’ll see me make frequent mention of this chicken-and-egg problem.

Age is one of the most common and superficial things we ask each other about in casual conversation—but it turns out that the answer may reveal something much deeper. In fact, our age says a lot about our sexual desires, but not necessarily in the way you might expect. For example, you might be tempted to think that the younger someone is, the more interested that person would be in threesomes. I mean, if anyone wants a three-way, it’s college-age adults, right? Not so fast. The results of my survey suggest that the college crowd is the least likely to be interested in threesomes, and there’s actually a very good reason for this.

As you’ll see throughout this chapter, our sexual fantasies appear to be carefully designed to meet our psychological needs—and because those needs change and evolve over our life span, it seems that our sexual fantasies naturally adjust in order to accommodate them. Rather than being static, our sexual fantasies should therefore be thought of as undergoing a developmental process that unfolds as we enter new stages of life.

To better understand this idea, let’s do a little perspective-taking exercise. I’m going to generalize a bit here, but please bear with me. First, put yourself in the shoes of a horny college student for a moment. At this age, sex itself is still a novelty because you haven’t been doing it very long (after all, the average age of first intercourse is sixteen to seventeen). You also haven’t yet had a very wide range of sexual partners or experiences. At the same time, you’re at the peak of sexual insecurity—you’re worried about what other people think regarding both your appearance and sexual performance. And on top of all that, you’re embedded in a hookup culture that pushes short-term sexual flings over dating.

Now, let’s swap shoes with someone at middle age. You sowed your wild oats in your twenties, experiencing several partners, activities, and sensations along the way. Sex is no longer new—you’ve been doing it for decades, perhaps over and over again with the same partner because you’ve settled down. You’ve also reached the glorious “zero fucks” stage of life, meaning you’ve realized that life is too short to spend it in a perpetual state of anxiety about what other people think.

There’s a world of difference when it comes to what turns someone on at these life stages. My survey results revealed that, compared to older adults, younger adults were less likely to fantasize about group sex, nonmonogamy, novelty, and taboo acts. This pattern makes perfect sense because for young adults, sex—any opportunity for sex—is novel and exciting, even if it’s just with one partner and doesn’t involve any, ahem, adventuresome activities. In other words, young adults largely appear to be content with basic sex, no need for bells and whistles. By contrast, older adults—especially those in long-term, monogamous relationships—are more likely to crave something fresh and new, something that’s going to put the Coolidge Effect in check, like an orgy or an open relationship.

At the same time, younger adults were more likely to report fantasies about BDSM and passion/romance than those who were older. This also makes sense, but for a different reason—it’s due to that difference in insecurity. Younger people were more likely to say their sexual fantasies were designed to help them escape reality, to reduce anxiety, and to help them feel more sexually confident. Fantasies of BDSM and passion can be helpful in accomplishing these goals. For example, fantasizing about being dominant or in control could help to bolster one’s feelings of confidence, whereas fantasies about passion could blunt feelings of sexual insecurity or inadequacy.

One other interesting way that sexual fantasies are related to age is that sexual flexibility fantasies are more common among older than younger men. Most notably, the older heterosexual guys in my sample were increasingly likely to report same-sex fantasies. By contrast, women’s sexual flexibility fantasies were unrelated to their age. This pattern fits in well with the idea that women have more sexual flexibility than men to begin with—but it also suggests the provocative possibility that some men might grow into their flexibility with age. Or maybe it’s just a sign that, as men age and have more opportunities to fantasize, the content of their fantasies simply becomes more and more diverse.

For years, psychologists have told us that, aside from the gender of the people in our fantasies, our sexual orientation has little—and perhaps nothing—to do with the content of our fantasies. My survey results suggest that this conclusion is wrong—very, very wrong. Our sexual orientation actually speaks volumes about our desires.

Broadly speaking, what I found was that people who identified as anything other than heterosexual were more likely to fantasize about sexual freedom in numerous forms. Specifically, nonheterosexuals were more likely to fantasize about BDSM, nonmonogamy, taboo acts, and gender-bending. If you think about it, the common denominator for all of these interests is that they involve breaking free of cultural rules or constraints for how we should act or behave. Therefore, one potential explanation is simply that having a nonheterosexual orientation predisposes one to developing these other interests because breaking one sexual taboo makes it less costly to violate others. Think about it this way: if you already know that other people aren’t going to accept your relationship because of your partner’s gender, shucking monogamy or other sexual conventions doesn’t really incur any extra costs. However, we have the classic chicken-and-egg problem here—we don’t know which sexual interest came first. In other words, does having same-sex attraction increase the odds of having taboo fantasies? Or does having taboo fantasies in general increase the likelihood of acknowledging same-sex attractions, leading to the adoption of alternative sexual identity labels? I’d wager that both explanations are true to an extent.

I should also clarify that the link between nonheterosexuality and taboo desires reflects, to some degree, the fact that persons who are strongly attracted to a specific taboo often find that traditional sexual orientation labels don’t accurately capture their interests. Therefore, they sometimes choose alternative labels that have nothing to do with the gender of their partners but rather reflect the nature of their taboo interests, such as the handful of survey participants who, when asked for their sexual orientation, wrote in “pedophile” or “zoophile,” labels that denote attraction to children and animals, respectively.

Most major religions places constraints on their followers’ sexual behaviors, specifying not just who they’re allowed to have sex with—usually, a spouse and no one else—but also what they’re allowed to do—namely, utilitarian penile-vaginal intercourse with the goal of making babies. Interestingly, what I found in my survey was that people who were religiously affiliated and who, presumably, had the most sexual constraints placed upon them, tended to fantasize more about breaking free of them. Specifically, they were more likely to fantasize about a range of novel and taboo sex acts. They seemed to be demonstrating what psychologists call reactance, the idea that when our perceived freedoms are threatened or when we’re pressured to adopt a certain view or attitude, we respond in a way that’s opposite of what the authority or requestor wants. 1 In other words, rather than getting in line, we rebel. Incidentally, this is why so-called reverse psychology works so well—instead of working against reactance, you can use it in your favor by asking someone to do the opposite of what you really want them to do.

In contrast to novelty and taboo fantasies, reactance was not evident in gender-bending: religiously affiliated persons were actually less likely to fantasize about breaking free of culturally imposed gender roles. This suggests that religiously affiliated folks tend to buy into traditional ideas of what men and women are supposed to be and that this carries over into the content of their sexual fantasies. Interestingly, though, while the religiously affiliated were less likely to fantasize about gender-bending, they were more likely to fantasize about sexual flexibility—at least the men were. Specifically, heterosexual guys who were religiously affiliated were more likely to have gay fantasies than men who lacked a religious affiliation. To me, this suggests that reactance isn’t the whole story here. Perhaps people who have fantasies they want to change or fantasies they feel are wrong sometimes seek out religion in order to cope. So maybe the link between heterosexual men’s same-sex fantasies and having a religious affiliation is more a function of some of these guys hoping to “pray the gay away.” (Which, as it turns out, doesn’t really work, according to science. 2 )

One other type of fantasy linked to religiosity involved meeting emotional needs: religiously affiliated persons were more likely to fantasize about intimacy and social bonding. This suggests that religious people tend to see sex and emotional fulfillment as intertwined—a concept embedded in many religious teachings—with two people coming together body and soul. In sum, the fantasies of religious folks adhere to traditional notions of gender and the idea that sex and love go together, but they also stand in defiance to mandates that sex should only comprise a narrow range of acts.

Our political affiliations tell a story that’s fairly similar to the one told by our religious affiliations.

Despite being the party that claims to offer the staunchest support of individual liberty and freedom, the Republican Party espouses a pretty limited view of what is acceptable when it comes to sex: sex should be reserved for the context of a lifelong monogamous marriage, because its primary purpose is making a family. Activities that prioritize pleasure over procreation, like nonmonogamy and kinky sexual practices, are frowned upon. Nowhere are these views more evident than in Republican politicians’ insistence on pushing for abstinence-until-marriage sex education. Perhaps not surprisingly, research has found that Republicans tend to have a more limited sexual repertoire than do Democrats. Specifically, Republicans are more likely to report engaging in traditional sexual behaviors like missionary-style penile-vaginal intercourse, whereas Democrats are more likely to say they have experimented with riskier and more adventuresome sexual activities. 3

Interestingly, however, what the Republican Party stands for when it comes to sex and what Republicans say they’re doing in the bedroom isn’t reflected in their fantasies. I found that Republicans fantasized more about most of the things they aren’t supposed to want than did Democrats. Specifically, Republicans were more likely to fantasize about both nonmonogamous sex—in particular, orgies, infidelity, swinging, and cuckolding—as well as taboo activities like exhibitionism, voyeurism, and fetishism. Like religion, politics seems to be another case where there’s a bit of reactance taking place: we come to want what the political authorities tell us we can’t have.

That said, there were a few things Democrats fantasized about more than Republicans. For instance, Democrats were more likely to fantasize about BDSM, as well as intimacy and social bonding. This pattern of results suggests that sexual fantasies could potentially take on a different meaning for people depending on their political affiliations: whereas Republicans’ fantasies are more likely to focus on novel sex acts seemingly because they have more restrictions placed on what they can do in real life, Democrats—who don’t face the same restrictions—are more likely to fantasize about meeting specific psychological needs, such as escaping self-awareness (in the case of BDSM fantasies) or feeling validated and loved (in the case of intimacy fantasies).

One other fantasy related to party affiliation was gender-bending: Democrats were more likely to have gender-bending fantasies than Republicans. This is another chicken-and-egg case: Do people with gender-bending interests gravitate toward political parties that are likely to be more accepting of them, or does being part of a political party that espouses ideals of gender equality allow people the freedom to acknowledge gender-variant interests? This is another case where I suspect there’s a bit of both going on.

Some research suggests that our first sexual experience is the most important in the sense that it sets the tone for our future sex lives. For example, people who look back on the loss of their virginity favorably tend to find their current sex lives to be more satisfying. 4 Findings like this made me wonder whether and how the specific activities that took place during one’s first sexual experience are related to the kinds of things that one currently fantasizes about. My survey results revealed that if a specific sex act took place during one’s very first sexual experience—be it kissing, oral sex, penile-vaginal intercourse, or something else—people fantasized about it more frequently as adults. In addition, people who said that their first sexual experience was unusual in some way tended to report more unusual sexual fantasies throughout their lives, meaning their fantasies were less likely to follow the cultural script for how sex is “supposed” to happen. Specifically, I found that an unusual first experience was linked to more fantasies about BDSM, taboo sex acts, gender-bending, and emotionless sex. Why is that? Well, if your first experience is unusual—but still a positive experience overall—that might give you a broader outlook on what’s acceptable when it comes to sex while simultaneously reinforcing the idea that kinky sex is pleasurable. When we’re young and inexperienced, we don’t have as much of an idea about what “normal” sexual behavior is, so our lived experiences have the potential to profoundly shape our sense of normalcy going forward.

It’s also interesting to note that, among my participants who said a taboo act was their favorite fantasy of all time, one in eight said this fantasy stemmed from an actual childhood sexual experience. This provides an interesting contrast to participants whose favorite fantasies were, say, group sex and novelty because these folks were far more likely to say that their fantasies stemmed from sexual experiences they had as adults. All of this is simply to say that when we have an unusual first sexual experience, it has the potential to imprint on us in a way that we carry forward for the rest of our lives. Again, though, it’s also possible that our current desires influence what we remember from our sexual histories and/or the significance we attach to those early experiences.

Of course, your first sexual experience isn’t the only one that matters in understanding what you fantasize about and why. My survey results suggest that people’s experiences with sexual victimization matter a lot, too—a conclusion that I suspect will prove quite controversial. I asked my participants if they had ever been the victim of any kind of sex crime, and it turned out that approximately one in ten men and two in five women had. These disturbing figures may strike some readers as unusually high, generating concern that victims are disproportionately overrepresented in my data. However, the question I asked was very broad, meaning “sex crime” could indicate any number of things, including but not limited to harassment, sexual assault, and indecent exposure. When you consider that national US surveys and polls have found that as many as one in ten men and one in four women have been sexually harassed in the workplace and that harassment is just one of many possible sex crimes, it appears that the rate at which my participants reported experiencing sex crimes is, sadly, quite typical. 5

Those who had been sexually victimized fantasized more often about a whole host of things, but before we get into them, let me be abundantly clear: the fantasies we’re going to talk about here are not inherently pathological, nor are they necessarily signs that someone has psychological problems. To the contrary, as you’ll see below, I argue that these fantasies are adaptive coping mechanisms for dealing with previous sexual trauma and, if anything, should be viewed as a sign of psychological resilience.

First, the BDSM finding was truly surprising to me because other published studies have found no link between previous experiences with sexual victimization and BDSM. 6 However, I think this discrepancy is attributable to the fact that most prior studies examined how victimization is related to the actual practice of BDSM, not BDSM fantasies. In other words, victimization may play a role in whether people are likely to fantasize about BDSM but not necessarily in whether they try it in real life. That said, the associations here were small, and most people who reported BDSM fantasies had not been victims of sex crimes—so whatever role victimization might play here is a very small one. However, it makes sense from the standpoint that BDSM offers distraction and an escape from self-awareness—a way of losing oneself in the moment. It’s important to note that those who identified as victims reported lower self-esteem, more anxiety, and more sexual problems, which tells us that we’re talking about a group of people who may be especially in need of distraction—they need to redirect attention away from negative thoughts and feelings that might diminish their arousal. To be clear, this is not about people wanting to relive past abuse; rather, it’s far more plausible that this is a psychological coping mechanism through which some people may learn to temporarily alleviate anxiety stemming from prior victimization.

Second, the fact that victims were more likely to fantasize about both emotional and emotionless sex might seem paradoxical at first; however, I believe it reflects the fact that different people cope with sexual victimization in different ways. As mentioned above, victims of sex crimes often experience a lingering psychological impact that is very negative, including low self-esteem, anxiety, and depression. In order to cope with this, some victims may fantasize about sexual encounters that affirm and validate their self-worth. By contrast, however, other victims may try to buffer their feelings of self-worth by checking their emotions at the door entirely and focusing only on the sex act itself in their fantasies.

Finally, the links between sexual victimization and fantasies about gender-bending and sexual flexibility could be explained in at least two ways. One possibility is simply that people who are more willing to disclose stigmatized sexual interests are more likely to disclose other potentially stigmatizing aspects of their sex lives, including experiences with sexual violence. This explanation suggests that there’s no deeper meaning to these associations and that self-disclosure is the common denominator. However, we might also be talking about coping mechanisms here. For example, research has found that experiences with rape and sexual abuse sometimes lead to self-hatred and/or disgust with one’s own body, and this, in turn, may stimulate attempts to psychologically escape or dissociate from one’s own body. One example would be fantasizing about becoming the other sex. 7 To be clear, this is not to suggest that transsexualism is inherently rooted in sexual abuse. Let me be emphatic about this: it’s not. Rather, the point is simply that gender-bending fantasies are one potential means by which a small number of people might learn to cope with a reality of past abuse.

As for sexual-flexibility fantasies, I found that women who identified as exclusively lesbian were more likely to report fantasies involving men to the extent that they had been sexually victimized. To me, this suggests the possibility that sexual victimization could potentially influence the sexual identity labels that women with same-sex attractions adopt. For instance, a bisexual woman who is victimized by a man might subsequently adopt a lesbian identity, perhaps because disidentifying with her attraction to men provides a psychological sense of safety or relief. Thus, both sexual identity and sexual fantasy content have the potential to serve as coping mechanisms for sexual abuse in some cases.

Let me reiterate that the links between sexual victimization and sexual fantasies were small, owing to the fact that victimization can take many different forms and not everyone copes in the same way. Also, let me repeat that these associations should not be taken to mean that any of these fantasies are inherently pathological or that everyone who has them has been sexually abused. The key takeaway here is that some of the most common sexual fantasies have the potential to help people cope with previous sexual traumas, which speaks to the powerful role that our fantasies can play in shaping our sexual well-being.

Beyond serving as potential coping mechanisms for survivors of sexual abuse, sexual fantasies can be seen as coping mechanisms for sexual difficulties more broadly. For example, my survey results revealed that people who had problems with sexual desire, arousal, and orgasm were more likely to fantasize about BDSM acts. Just as we discussed above in the context of previous victimization, BDSM may be appealing fantasy content to anyone looking to block out feelings of anxiety and insecurity that might otherwise interfere with their ability to relax and enjoy sex. Likewise, having sexual problems was linked to more fantasies about emotional sex—specifically, seeking intimacy and approval. These feelings of validation might be useful not just for bolstering self-esteem but also for putting one’s mind at ease more generally.

Interestingly, persons with more sex problems reported fewer fantasies about novelty, group sex, and nonmonogamy. However, this makes sense when you consider that the goal for persons with sexual difficulties is usually just having sex—novelty isn’t necessarily what they need and might even be counterproductive. After all, novelty introduces an element of the unexpected and can potentially be stressful, which might exacerbate any problems one might be experiencing.

Lastly, I also found that persons with sexual problems were more likely to fantasize about taboo acts. On the one hand, like BDSM, this might reflect a search for distraction and escape. On the other hand, however, it might also reflect the fact that people with sexual difficulties tend to be drawn to the taboo because when people have problems establishing the kinds of sexual relationships they want, they’re more likely to gravitate toward unusual sexual activities in order to seek fulfillment.

There’s a big difference between having a high sex drive and having compulsive sexual urges. A high sex drive simply means that you find yourself wanting sex frequently; however, it’s all under your control and it’s not affecting you or your relationship(s) negatively. By contrast, compulsive sexual urges are desires that you find yourself struggling to control—they are distressing urges that get in the way of your everyday life and/or your ability to establish the kind of relationship(s) you want.

My survey results revealed that people with high sex drives fantasized more about almost everything. Interestingly, though, that wasn’t the case for those with compulsive urges. People who said they have compulsive desires were really only more likely to fantasize about emotionless sex, taboo sex acts, and gender-bending. As we discussed earlier, labeling one’s desires as “compulsive” or “out of control” often signifies underlying moral conflicts. (Incidentally, saying one’s sexual desires are “out of control” is also a strategy frequently used by rich and powerful men who want to absolve themselves of personal responsibility when they’re caught behaving badly—but that’s a whole other story.) So part of what we’re seeing here may just be that a lot of people who fantasize about emotionless sex, taboo activities, and gender-bending simply feel guilty about desiring these things. Consistent with this idea, I found that fantasies about these three acts were linked to reporting more feelings of sexual shame. That said, I want to be clear that compulsive desires aren’t always about moral conflicts or deflecting blame. Some folks legitimately have issues regulating and controlling their sexual urges irrespective of the perceived morality of their sexual desires, and they may benefit from professional help in managing them.

I should also mention that the link between compulsive sexual tendencies and fantasies about taboo acts in particular might partially reflect the fact that persons with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) sometimes present with obsessions and compulsions about unusual sex acts. 8 Specifically, what we’re talking about here are cases in which a taboo desire takes on a ritualistic nature in which there’s a certain trigger of fear or anxiety that can only be relieved by a very specific (and often taboo) sexual practice. For example, a compulsive male exhibitionist might engage in ritualized flashing of unsuspecting female strangers as a way of coping with his feelings of sexual inadequacy. Every time he experiences these feelings, he may feel compelled to start flashing because it’s the only way he has learned to relieve those feelings. To be clear, not all taboo sexual interests are variants of OCD; however, they sometimes are, and it’s important to recognize this because it has significant implications for treatment.

Interestingly, some studies have also found a link between OCD and gender dysphoria—that is, the feeling that one is trapped in the body of the wrong sex. 9 In these cases, people may have intrusive thoughts that they are transgender, despite the fact that they aren’t actually transgender. This creates anxiety that one may try to resolve by engaging in any number of compulsive activities, such as repeatedly checking one’s genitals or frequently seeking reassurance from others about one’s gender identity. To be perfectly clear, this is not to suggest that transgenderism and OCD are one and the same—they aren’t, not by a long shot. It’s important to clearly distinguish them in the interest of ensuring appropriate treatment and assistance, such as determining who is and is not a candidate for gender-affirmation surgery. I simply mention the OCD–gender dysphoria association because it may be a small part of the reason why gender-bending fantasies were specifically linked to compulsive sexual urges among my participants, whereas most other fantasies were not.

The way people feel about their current relationship—including how happy they are and how much power they hold relative to their partner—seems to be reflected in many different kinds of sexual fantasies. First, I found that the less happy people were with their relationships, the more likely they were to fantasize about having an open or polyamorous relationship and committing infidelity, as well as both emotional (passion, romance, and intimacy) and emotionless sex.

Of course, it shouldn’t be surprising that unhappy people were more likely to fantasize about having sex with someone other than their current partner—but in these fantasies, they seemed content to do it regardless of whether they had their partner’s consent or not. Interestingly, however, being unhappy with one’s relationship was unrelated to swinging and cuckolding fantasies, which tells us that low satisfaction doesn’t necessarily mean someone is interested in nonmonogamy across the board—instead, they’re primarily interested in the forms of nonmonogamy that don’t involve their partner’s direct sexual participation. They really just want to be with someone else for a change.

The emotional and emotionless sex findings might seem paradoxical at first, but—as we discussed above in the section on sexual victimization—these dual associations might reflect differences in coping strategies. For example, some people might be fantasizing about passion and romance because it reflects the kind of relationship they yearn to have with their partner. Perhaps this even provides some feeling of reassurance that things might eventually change. It’s also possible that these emotional fantasies are signs that people are mentally working through their relationship problems and searching for solutions. By contrast, others might keep their emotions at bay in their fantasies as a form of self-protection. Think about it this way: if there’s no emotion present, then their already-hurt feelings cannot be hurt any further.

In sum, when people aren’t happy with their relationship, they may use their fantasies as a way of escaping problems, correcting problems, or protecting their own feelings. Of course, there’s also a bit of the chicken-and-egg issue here: Does being in an unhappy relationship lead people to have these fantasies, or does having these fantasies potentially harm people’s relationships? We can’t rule out the possibility that there’s a bit of both going on here. For instance, if someone already has doubts about whether their partner is right for them, it’s possible that certain kinds of fantasies—like infidelity—could exacerbate those doubts.

Relationship power was also related to fantasy content, but really only to BDSM fantasies. However, the association I found probably isn’t the one that you might expect. Specifically, those who reported having more power tended to have more fantasies about dominance and sadism, whereas those with less power fantasized more about submission and masochism. Thus, although you may have previously heard that people with power use their fantasies to escape its burden, that doesn’t seem to be the case. While that may be true for a small number of individuals, generally speaking, people’s sexual fantasies tend to reflect the amount of power they currently have in their relationship.

The degree to which you feel insecure in your relationship says a lot about the kinds of things you are—and aren’t—likely to fantasize about. By “insecure,” I mean feeling like you need a lot of reassurance that your partner loves you and worrying that your partner might abandon you. I found that the more insecure people said they were, the less likely they were to fantasize about group sex and nonmonogamy and the more likely they were to fantasize about BDSM, sexual novelty, and romance.

The fact that insecure people had fewer fantasies about multiple partners and nonmonogamy is perfectly logical. Insecure people are likely to find these scenarios threatening because there’s the potential for jealousy to set in if, say, you see your partner giving attention to someone other than you, or if someone else appears to be taken with your partner. To the extent that insecure people do fantasize about group sex or nonmonogamy (and some of them certainly do), they tend to place themselves at the center of attention, perhaps so as to minimize feelings of threat. An insecure person might very much enjoy a scenario in which multiple people are vying for their attention because that blunts any potential feelings of rejection. As this example illustrates, with a little creative thinking, people can tailor virtually any fantasy scenario to meet their needs.

The link between insecurity and fantasies about BDSM and novelty can be explained as a form of psychological escapism. As previously mentioned, BDSM fantasies in particular offer a break from self-awareness—but novelty fantasies do as well. I found that having frequent novelty fantasies was linked to saying that one uses fantasies in general as a means of reducing anxiety and escaping reality during sex. In other words, both BDSM and novelty are potent ways of taking your mind off of relationship insecurities.

Finally, the link between insecurity and romance may stem from the fact that people who are insecure find it difficult to enjoy sex—including the very thought of it—unless they feel desired and validated. Therefore, anxious folks might actively include calming emotional content in their fantasies as a way of helping them to relax and get in the mood. Consistent with this idea, the participants who reported having more of these emotion-based fantasies were also the most likely to say that the reason they fantasize in the first place is to relieve anxiety.

People who are high in the personality trait of conscientiousness tend to be pretty detail-oriented and organized in their everyday life—and this appears to transfer over into their sexual fantasies. Being conscientious was linked to having more novelty fantasies, especially fantasies that featured novel settings. It appears that their attention to detail may lead conscientious persons to construct elaborate fantasies that are planned down to the location where the activity takes place.

At the same time, conscientious folks were less likely to fantasize about BDSM, taboo acts, and gender-bending. This pattern makes sense when you consider that conscientious persons like to follow the rules—they tend to be conformists. As such, they’re probably less aroused by the idea of engaging in activities that are seen as culturally forbidden or, in the case of gender-bending, that might make the world seem like a less orderly and predictable place.

Extraversion is a personality trait that reflects an outgoing nature, a desire to interact with the world. Extraverts like to meet new people in real life—and in their sexual fantasies, too. I found that extraversion was linked to more fantasies about group sex, as well as more fantasies about both consensual nonmonogamy and infidelity. This isn’t at all surprising, because being socially confident probably makes it a lot easier to imagine meeting and seducing new partners. Extraverts also tend to have more novelty fantasies, which can be seen as another symptom of their greater tendency to engage with the world around them.

By the same token, extraverts were less likely to have taboo sexual fantasies. This fits with the finding that people who have difficulty establishing the kinds of relationships they want tend to generate more unusual interests. Extraverts usually don’t have a problem establishing relationships, so it makes sense that the taboo would hold less appeal to them.

Extraversion was also linked to the emotional content in one’s fantasies. Specifically, extraverts had fewer fantasies about intimacy and social bonding and more fantasies about feeling validated. In particular, extraverts had more fantasies about being praised for their sexual skills and performance, meaning their fantasies were more likely to center around boosting their egos than they were around developing deep emotional connections with others. I guess the way to think about this is that extraverts don’t just want to be seen as the life of the party—they also want to be seen as the life of the sex party.

The personality trait of agreeableness is characterized by a high degree of care and concern for others. Agreeable people are kind, considerate, and willing to sacrifice their own self-interest when necessary. Perhaps not surprisingly, their sexual fantasies reflect their inherently prosocial nature. For example, I found that the more agreeable people were, the less likely they were to have fantasies about infidelity, BDSM, emotionless sex, and taboo sex acts, especially taboo acts that were nonconsensual (like sex with children and animals). In other words, agreeable people don’t seem to find it arousing to fantasize about sex acts in which someone would get hurt or—in the case of BDSM—where there might be pain involved, even if that pain is desired. In the case of emotionless sex, agreeable people probably aren’t into it because in the absence of intimacy, it might not be clear to them whether the other person is enjoying sex.

By contrast, agreeable persons were more likely to fantasize about novel sex acts, as well as one specific form of consensual nonmonogamy: swinging. I interpret this as meaning that agreeable persons tend to fantasize about things they think will make others happy, such as trying a new sex toy that their partner might like or, with respect to swinging, watching one’s partner have their sexual needs fulfilled by someone else. In other words, agreeable persons tend to fantasize only about new activities that they think will be mutually enjoyable.

Neuroticism is a personality trait characterized by emotional instability. Neurotics don’t cope with stress very well and tend to have very negative reactions toward it. In light of this, it shouldn’t be surprising that neurotic people tend to play it safe when it comes to their sexual fantasies, reporting fewer fantasies about group sex, nonmonogamy, and novelty. They don’t express much desire for new activities or new partners because they don’t necessarily know what they’re getting. That uncertainty can be stressful, especially when coupled with the prospect of a partner potentially expressing interest in someone else, such as in the case of a threesome. Instead, they seem to prefer more predictable sexual interactions that follow an established script.

Lastly, I found that self-esteem, the degree to which one holds a positive or negative self-view, was related to fantasy content in numerous ways. Specifically, the lower someone’s self-esteem, the more likely they were to fantasize about passion/romance and taboo sex acts. This pattern suggests that, just like neurotic and insecure people, those with low self-esteem often fantasize about receiving reassurance and validation. This can be seen as a self-protective strategy of sorts that buffers one’s self-image against further hits. It also suggests that, like introverts and people suffering from sexual problems, those who are lacking in self-confidence may gravitate to more unusual sexual desires due to difficulties starting the kinds of sexual relationships they want.

Low self-esteem was also linked to more fantasies about BDSM, a finding that was initially surprising to me in light of previous research suggesting that people who practice BDSM are just as psychologically healthy as the rest of the population, if not more so. 10 However, I think there’s a logical explanation for these seemingly discrepant findings. Before I get into that, though, let’s be clear about one thing: it is emphatically not the case that everyone who is into BDSM is “fifty shades of fucked up,” as author E. L. James’s books might lead you to believe. The association here, though statistically significant, was small, which tells us that most of the people who have BDSM fantasies are perfectly well-adjusted. So why were my findings a little different? The studies linking BDSM to positive psychological adjustment recruited participants from BDSM clubs or interest groups. These were individuals who were therefore already acting on their fantasies, had a social network of like-minded people, and had made BDSM a part of their personal identity. By contrast, I didn’t specifically recruit people who were living in the BDSM scene. Instead, I looked at anyone who reported having BDSM fantasies, regardless of whether they had acted on them—and most of my participants had not done so.

Interestingly, I found that my participants who had acted on their BDSM fantasies reported higher self-esteem, fewer feelings of guilt and shame, and better psychological adjustment than those who hadn’t. What this tells us is that the discrepancy between my findings and the other studies out there would appear to be, at least in part, a function of the fact that I’m studying the fantasy whereas others are studying the reality. I think there’s an interesting parallel one could draw here to homosexuality and mental health: gay and lesbian persons who aren’t out about their sexual orientation often have a high degree of internalized homophobia or self-hatred. The more of this self-hatred one has, the more one’s mental health tends to suffer. 11 By contrast, those who learn to love themselves, who become actively involved in the gay community, and who find social acceptance—they thrive. Therefore, feeling ashamed of a sexual desire—whether it involves same-sex attraction, BDSM, or something else—can be harmful, whereas coming to terms with and accepting one’s desires can enhance well-being. Remember this point because we’ll return to it a little later in the book when we consider the steps necessary for acceptance of one’s fantasies.

One final linkage I found between self-esteem and fantasy content was that persons with higher self-esteem were more likely to fantasize about consensual nonmonogamy. Thus, people who feel positive about themselves are more likely to imagine being in sexually open relationships, whereas those who hold negative self-views are more likely to fantasize about monogamy. This—combined with the insecurity findings mentioned above—suggests that you need a certain amount of self-confidence to feel comfortable envisioning yourself in an open relationship. Those with a poor self-image may find the prospect of nonmonogamy to be either too unrealistic (because they simply can’t envision more than one person being attracted to them) or threatening (because they fear their partner might decide to leave them for someone else). Of course, it’s probably also true that having multiple partners who desire you enhances self-esteem.

In this chapter, we explored fifteen questions whose answers say something about our sexual desires. The survey findings that we discussed suggest that our demographic backgrounds, sexual histories, and personality traits all come together to create a unique set of psychological needs—needs that are reflected in our sexual fantasies. Remember that these needs and the fantasies that mirror them are not necessarily static over the course of our lives. Life circumstances, such as new relationships and new sexual experiences, can reshape our needs time and again, which means that our fantasies have the potential to “reset” periodically. As a result, you’re in good company if you’ve found that the things you fantasize about now aren’t the same things you were fantasizing about, say, in high school.

Let me reiterate that it’s shortsighted to try to understand someone’s sexual fantasies by looking at single traits in isolation; instead, we must consider a combination of multiple traits and what the overall pattern reveals. For example, if you only knew someone’s age, you probably wouldn’t have a very accurate picture of what that person’s fantasies are likely to be. However, if you also knew this person’s level of self-esteem, attachment style, and personality profile, you could probably generate a much clearer picture, especially if several of those traits point in the direction of the same fantasy. For instance, being younger, having low self-esteem, and being high in neuroticism and insecurity are all linked to more fantasies about BDSM and fewer fantasies about nonmonogamy.