How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Stoya and Rich here. It’s anonymous!
Dear How to Do It,
I’ve been married to my (28F) husband (31M) for two years now. We have a wonderful, fun relationship and have always had an exciting sex life. We’ve explored tons of fantasies together, have always matched each other’s libido, and rarely have problems getting off. He’s been less interested in sex recently (think going from three to four times per week to one), but it wasn’t enough that I found it concerning.
Then, the other day I went into my husband’s photo app to pull up a screenshot of a recipe, and it was already opened to the “deleted items” folder. There were dozens of deleted screenshots of women, ranging from pornographic to totally innocent, but that I assume he was using as porn. Not the best thing to find on your partner’s phone, but I was just going to shrug it off. Until I saw that quite a few of the pictures were of his cousin. They were all zoomed-in pictures of Instagram posts (I follow her and recognized all of them), focused on different parts of her body or her face. I should probably note that his cousin is 31 and married, but some of the pictures went back to when she was in college and even high school.
I confronted him about it as gently as I could, and he was mortified but said very little about it. While he didn’t outright admit it, it’s obvious that he was jerking off to the pictures. I asked whether this had just started happening for him, or if it was an ongoing fascination, and he just shut down and wouldn’t talk. Everyone can masturbate to whatever porn they like, but to your actual cousin? I honestly don’t know how “normal” this is, and if I should be concerned, or if it’s something to let slide as an attraction that he has not, and will not ever, act on. We haven’t had sex since this happened and things are still generally awkward. In my head, I’m worried that he’s going to be picturing her while he’s having sex with me. And I’m pretty turned off after learning this about him. He hasn’t made any move to initiate sex, either. Any suggestions on how to get over this mentally?
—Hot for Cousin
Dear Hot for Cousin,
I don’t think you get over this without a conversation that, at minimum, answers the outstanding questions in your letter. I’d hold out for a bit longer if I were you, and see if he finds the awkwardness of your distance and sexual estrangement so unbearable that it prompts him to begin a more direct conversation about your discovery. Jerking off to pictures of one’s cousin probably isn’t super common, but it’s not impossible to imagine happening, and it doesn’t necessarily indicate anything other than fantasizing is occurring. Given the cousin’s age and Instagram’s launch date (2010), he may not have any underage pictures of her on his phone, even if what is in his archives qualify as “barely” legal age. So at least there’s that.
Regardless of the details, you’re not going to get over this by yourself. If you go for more than a month with no sex or conversation and he doesn’t take the bait, go ahead and bring it up. Be hopeful but realistic. Maybe you don’t come back from this—it could simply be the nail in the coffin. Knowing too much about someone can be hazardous to your sex life. It’s important to regard your partner as a human, and allow that humans fantasize, while recognizing that not all fantasies square with our cultural mores. You seem to be aware of this, but turn-offs are turn-offs. If a conversation (or conversations) doesn’t get you anywhere, you’ll probably want to consider counseling before cutting things off for good.
Dear How to Do It,
I (cis woman) was dropping my kids off at preschool almost a year ago and heard a male voice say my name. It took me a few moments to place who it was and then I realized it was someone I had briefly dated about 18 years ago. I was young and naive and he, “Josh,” was kind of a dick (we only slept together one to two times and he cheated on me. Ran into him several years later and we were friendly and parted ways on good terms.).
I thought it was wild and I called my husband on the way home and told him, half mortified and half laughing. I assumed Josh had done the same and told his wife, “Rebecca.” A month or so later, I see Josh at a kid’s birthday party and meet Rebecca, who I assume is totally nonplussed about the situation like my husband. Then another parent friend started a book group and invited both Rebecca and me to join. Our mutual connection has never been mentioned by Rebecca and I started to wonder if she knew that Josh and I had dated and had sex in the past.
Fast forward a few months, and I was out walking with my daughter when I ran into Josh. I asked him if had told Rebecca we had dated and he said, “No, I told her we used to hang out, but I didn’t tell her we like, dated.” I was shocked! He then said “I mean I can tell her” in a tone that indicated I was making a big deal about nothing. I didn’t really get to say much more since my kiddo was there and we went off in a different direction.
So here’s my dilemma: I have been in the situation a couple of times while dating someone and then talking to a female friend of theirs only to be informed later by someone else that they had slept together in the past. This always made me feel like an idiot and foolish. Especially when I was maybe sharing information that I might have chosen to keep private had I known the history of their relationship. I feel like Rebecca should know the history between Josh and me because I would want to know. But several of my close friends and my husband have said not to tell her and it’s not my place to tell her. I can see their point and it’s probably my own issue I’m projecting onto the situation. I just see Rebecca finding out at some point and being upset with me even though Josh should have told her! And what if she finally asks about how Josh and I met or how I knew him? I should mention Josh knows we are in the same book club and our kids will likely continue being in the same classes for the next 10-plus years. I also worry that the other book club gals will be upset with me and I will lose this group of parent friends that I feel so fortunate to have. I haven’t told anyone in the book club because I don’t think it would be right to do that when Rebecca doesn’t even know. So, should I do what my friends and husband say and not tell her? What do you think?
—Book Club Drama
Dear Book Club Drama,
Your sign-off is a misnomer; there is no book club drama yet, but you’re fixin’ to whip some up. Please stop. No one wants this. The people around you are telling you not to do anything about it. I would have even less patience if I knew you. I come from a world where many platonic friends have at one point had their dicks in each other’s mouths. I’m stating this to acknowledge my bias, but it’s also to say I have firsthand knowledge that none of this needs to be a big deal. Consequently, I’m not at all inclined to sympathize with the disruption that a former lover’s reentry into your life has caused. Who cares? You fucked a lifetime ago. That was then.
But the main reason I don’t think you should speak up is a practical one. You have no idea what Rebecca’s sensitivities are; what if she explicitly asked Josh not to talk about former partners with her because she’d simply rather not know? Then you’d be violating their agreement regarding this issue and needlessly upsetting her. Just because your tendency to share is diarrhetic doesn’t mean that receiving your, uh, output is going to be useful.
You have a very particular worldview—associating with your partner’s past partners makes you feel foolish, so you would want to know this information ahead of time to feel prepared and thus…less foolish? We live in a small world. People pair up and separate. That’s always how it’s going to be. Acceptance of this will help you to relax about it.
I regularly advise people to steer clear of drama. Don’t get involved, that’s what I say. What you have on your person is not need-to-know information and you telling Rebecca about Josh’s ancient history, which likely has no bearing on their relationship or current lives individually, has way more potential to disrupt than it does to produce anything prosocial. If those people in the book club get mad at you later because you avoided shit-stirring, they’re not worth being friends with. I doubt they would—I’m just saying. You should be surrounding yourself with people who are generous with the benefit of the doubt and peace-loving. If they prove themselves not to be, they’ve done you the favor of marking themselves as not worth your time.
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Dear How to Do It,
I’m having trouble knowing if I’m actually good in bed or if my partners are just being kind. I feel they’re too nice to be critical and I want to know where to make improvements. How do I go about doing that?
—How to Be Their Best
Dear How to Be Their Best,
If you’re having sex with people repeatedly and they’re giving you positive feedback, you can rest assured that nothing is amiss, especially if you’re generous and attentive to their desires. You can always check in to see if there’s anything you aren’t doing that they would like to try. But your short letter, which cites no evidence to counter your partners’ kind words other than your own paranoia, suggests your problem is your insecurity. That’s something you can work on right now. You’re better off taking their word for it because confidence is sexy. Good lovers carry themselves like good lovers, so even if your technique is lacking, at least you’ll have the right attitude to build from.
Dear How to Do It,
My husband (37m) and I (32f) have been together for nine years, married for five. COVID really impacted our sex life. Before we would do it four to six times a week; any time of day; and try fun things like sexy massage, more oral, pegging, lingerie, those candles where it’s safe to drop the wax on your lover, etc. During the first year of COVID, we both got pretty depressed, lost our jobs, and gained weight. Sex really dipped during that time to about twice a month although we became closer emotionally.
These days we both have jobs and are getting back in shape. We definitely still have sex—we do it two or three times a week. We just do missionary, cowgirl, or mutual masturbation and some occasional oral, and only at night before bed. I know this doesn’t sound so bad but it’s not like it used to be. Part of it is my husband is uncomfortable with his weight gain and unconfident to engage in some of the things we used to do where the focus is more on his body. I think he looks great, and I tell him so, but that doesn’t seem to help much. I suggested doing an interests matching test and he was nervous about that too because he doesn’t want me to be disappointed if he’s not into a lot of stuff. I always try to be positive about sex and don’t guilt him or act disappointed if he’s not in the mood.
What’s also difficult is I got COVID pretty severely and have developed arthritis and asthma as a result. Arthritis makes it difficult to do some of the positions we used to like and bad asthma days can make sex unappealing. I confided some of these issues to a friend and she said that’s just what sex is like as you get older and get health issues and I should be happy with what I have. But man, we’re not even 40 and we don’t plan to have kids. Is she right?
—Missing How We Used to Be
Dear Missing How We Used to Be,
To a certain extent, sure, your friend is right. As your body ages, the limber days of youth get smaller in the rearview, and you might not be able to do what you used to. There’s a saying I’ve heard people in the disability community use frequently: Everyone will be disabled if they live long enough. The point is not that life gets worse; it’s that it’s our duty to adapt. Personally, I take this inevitable physical slowing down as something of a challenge—can I slow down the slow down? One of the many tools in my box is yoga, and I suggest you and your husband try it as well—it could help your arthritis and it’s just a great way of getting in touch with your body.
It seems like in certain ways, COVID sped up the aging process, and now your challenge is to deal with it. You’re having sex two to three times a week that’s full of variety and with a single partner—you’re killing it. Keep doing what you’re doing. Maybe instead of an interests-matching test, you should just flat-out suggest things you want to try. Ask your husband to do the same. Stay engaged and remain patient. You might have to work harder to maintain the status quo, but that’s life and it’s worth it. If I were you, I’d suggest—without a trace of pressure—some kind of fitness regimen (including the aforementioned yoga, and beyond). It’s something you can do together, there’s some good data on the anti-aging benefits of exercise (including HIIT), and it could at least give you the illusion that you have some power over the aging process. Believe me, that illusion can provide quite the inspiration.
—Rich
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