Sex at Dawn
by Dan Savage (July 8th, 2010)
My husband of eight years confessed to wanting to watch me with another man. I found a guy, and he agreed to a full STD screening—at my husband's suggestion and our expense—so that we wouldn't have to use condoms. I was worried about how my husband would react to the reality, but he loved every minute—he loved it a little too much. My husband had sex with me after our "guest" left. I still had our guest's semen inside me. Is my husband gay? Is that what cuckolding is all about? He didn't touch the other guy, but what the fuck?
Spouse Expressing Concern Over Newly Disclosed Sexuality
"Far from being an indication of homosexuality, your husband's turn-on goes back to the roots of male heterosexual experience," says Christopher Ryan, coauthor of Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality.
Before Ryan walks us through what's so straight about your husband dipping his dick in another man's spunk, SECONDS, let me get this off my chest: Sex at Dawn is the single most important book about human sexuality since Alfred Kinsey unleashed Sexual Behavior in the Human Male on the American public in 1948. Want to understand why men married to supermodels cheat? Why so many marriages are sexless? Why paternity tests often reveal that the "father" isn't? Read Sex at Dawn.
Back to Ryan:
"Think about it," says Ryan. "Why would women have evolved the capacity for slow-building multiple orgasms while males evolved the orgasmic response of minutemen accompanied by a sudden disappearance of all interest in sex?"
Because—as Ryan and his coauthor Cacilda Jethá lay out in Sex at Dawn—for countless generations, our male and female ancestors, like our closest primate relatives (fuck-mad bonobos), engaged in multipartner sex. Females mated with multiple males, while males—so easily stimulated visually to this day—watched and waited their turn.
"Almost all of us get off on watching other people having sex," says Ryan. "Even if our minds deny it, our bodies respond in many ways, ranging from increased genital blood flow (in both sexes) to stronger male ejaculations."
By inviting another male into your bedroom, SECONDS, your husband—consciously or subconsciously—was inducing what's known as "sperm competition." Watching you have sex with another male made him more excited to have sex with you, not with the other male, and treated him to a more intense orgasm in you, not in the other male.
"So your husband's experience was very heterosexual," says Ryan.
I am a 24-year-old female. I've been in a relationship with a man for six years, on and off. I think I could spend my life with him. But I have a hard time being faithful. I have cheated on him with other men and with women. He and I are not together currently, but we maintain a long-distance sexual relationship. We say that we are going to be together someday, but he has no trust in me. I would love to be content, but I can't seem to go very long before I get distracted. Please give me some insight!
Don't Wanna Be A Heartbreaker
"Toward the end of Sex at Dawn," says Ryan, "there's a brief section called 'Everybody Out of the Closet.' We argue that it's not just gay people who have to go through the sort of brutally honest self-exploration involved in coming out. We all need to go through this process—and the sooner the better."
Here's what you need to come out about, DWBAH: You'll never be content in a monogamous relationship.
"It's time to stop bullshitting yourself," says Ryan. "You're very young, so, with all due respect, a certain amount of bullshit is to be expected. But you sound ready to move beyond this. Before getting into a committed relationship, you owe it to yourself and to the other person to be honest about who you are, and for now at least, you're clearly not sexually monogamous.
"And if you'll pardon just a few words of old-guy wisdom while Dan shares his amazing platform," Ryan continues, "many people your age misunderstand the odds of finding love in life. Few young people really appreciate that by being open about who you really are, you end up wasting much less time on relationships that are doomed from the start. In the long run, it's much more efficient to fess up about who you are and what you're really into from the get-go."
Who are you, DWBAH? You're a slut. (I mean that in the sex-positive sense! I'm a slut, too!). And what are you really into? Variety. And don't feel bad: You didn't fail monogamy, DWBAH, monogamy failed you—as it has failed so many others (Clinton, Edwards, Spitzer, Vitter, Ensign, et al.), and will continue to, because monogamy is unrealistic and—this is not a word I toss around lightly—unnatural.
"Maybe half of the people you're interested in will walk away when you fess up," says Ryan. "Let them walk! Those who don't walk away are a much better investment of your time and energy—both of which are more limited than you can possibly realize at age 24."
I've been with my partner for 10 years. I have lost all interest in sex, while my partner still has a healthy libido. We've agreed on a weekly "sex night." I dread it. We could call it quits, but we have a child and we love each other. I don't want to break up our family, so I put up with "sex night." It sounds depressing, I know, but the alternative seems worse.
Wishes She Was Horny
"Lots of wonderful marriages aren't particularly sexual or exclusive," says Ryan, hinting at another alternative. "Sexual novelty was an important part of our evolution as a species. But, as you and your partner demonstrate, we don't all respond the same way to the absence of novelty.
"You don't say if your loss of libido pertains only to sex with your partner or to anyone at all," Ryan continues, "but it's a good idea to eliminate possible medical and psychological causes before concluding that it's a purely sexual issue. Assuming it's just about libido, I'd encourage you to find a middle ground that preserves your family and the love you share but incorporates a more comfortable sexual arrangement that doesn't leave your partner frustrated and you dreading 'sex night.'"
In other words, WSWH, ask yourself what's more important: staying married or staying monogamous?
"If you can find a way to take the pressure off both of you, you might find a deeper intimacy with each other and a return of your libido," says Ryan.
I usually end with a plug for my podcast. Not this week: Anyone who's ever struggled with monogamy—and any honest person who ever attempted it admits to struggling—needs to read Sex at Dawn.
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This is from the following week’s column (July 15th, 2010):
Dan,
I wanted to thank you for drawing so much attention to Sex at Dawn. I am going to get it as soon as possible so I can better understand myself. I have always felt a certain amount of shame because I've never had a monogamous relationship. Having been married 14 years (married at 19, which I know is a no-no in your book), I've had plenty of temptation and only given in a few times. Those events felt like they were saving my sanity; they never had anything to do with me loving my husband any less. It wasn't until I started listening to your advice that I realized that maybe I wasn't the problem. For all these years, I felt like shit because I couldn't be monogamous. Thanks for clueing me in to evolution, reptile brains, etc.
M
Thanks for the nice note, M. Now go forth and cheat no more, i.e., don't be a CPOS (cheating piece of shit). If you're incapable of being monogamous, don't make monogamous commitments that you're damn well going to break.
And to all the outraged folks writing in to ask if I'm seriously suggesting that no one should ever be monogamous: That's not what I'm saying—and it's not what the authors of Sex at Dawn are arguing either. The point of Sex at Dawn—and my point in drawing my readers' and listeners' attention to it—isn't that no one should attempt to be monogamous or that people who've made monogamous commitments have a license to cheat on their partners. For the record: I'm happy to acknowledge that there are lots of good reasons to be monogamous and/or very nearly monogamous, e.g., children and other sexually transmitted infections.
What the authors of Sex at Dawn believe—and what I think they prove—is that we are a naturally nonmonogamous species, despite what we've been told for millennia by preachers and for centuries by scientists, and that is why so many people have such a hard time remaining monogamous over the long haul. I'm not saying that everyone everywhere has to be nonmonogamous; the authors of Sex at Dawn don't make that argument either. (Lots of monogamists, however, do run around insisting that everyone everywhere should be monogamous—and proscriptive monogamists get a pass because, hey, they mean so well and wouldn't it be nice if everyone were?)
The point is this: People—particularly those who value monogamy—need to understand why being monogamous is so much harder than they've been led to believe it will be. In some cases, this understanding may help people find the courage to seek out nonmonogamous relationships and/or arrangements and/or allowances that make them—gasp!—happier and make their relationships more stable, not less, as a routine infidelity won't doom their marriage/civilunion/commitment/slavecontract/whatever. But understanding that monogamy is a struggle for most people—and being able to be honest with our partners about experiencing it as a struggle—may actually help some people remain monogamous.
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From Dan Savage’s Letters of the Day series:
So What You're Saying Is That No One Should Be Monogamous?
Posted by Dan Savage on Wed, Jul 7, 2010 at 2:51 PM
No, that's not what I'm saying—and it's not what the authors of Sex At Dawn are arguing either.
The point of Sex At Dawn—and my point in drawing your attention to it—isn't that monogamy is unnatural and therefore no one should attempt it and that people have license to break the monogamous commitments they made to their partners. And for the record: I'm happy to acknowledge that there are lots of good reasons to be monogamous or very nearly monogamous.
What the authors of Sex At Dawn believe—what they prove—is that we are a naturally non-monogamous species, despite what we've been told for millennia by preachers and for centuries by scientists, and that is why so many people have such a hard time being and remaining monogamous. I'm not saying that everyone everywhere has to be non-monogamous; the authors of Sex At Dawn don't make that argument either. (Lots of monogamists, however, run around insisting that everyone everywhere should be monogamous—and the monogamists get a pass because, hey, they mean so well and wouldn't it be nice if everyone were?)
The point is that people—particularly those who value monogamy—need to understand why being monogamous is so much harder than they've been led to believe. In some cases this understanding may help people find the courage to seek out non-monogamous relationships and/or arrangements and/or allowances that make them—gasp!—happier and make their relationships more stable, not less, as a routine infidelity won't doom their marriage/domesticpartnership/commitment/slavecontract/whatever. But understanding that monogamy is a struggle for most people, and being able to be honest with our partners about it, may actually help some people remain monogamous.
Buy and read the book.
UPDATE: This letter arrived in the "Savage Love" mailbox as I was writing this post:
I just wanted to thank you for drawing so much attention to the Sex At Dawn book. I am going to get it as soon as possible so I can better understand myself. I have always felt a certain amount of shame because I've never had a monogamous relationship. Having been married 14 years (and having married at 19, which I know is a no-no in your book), I've had plenty of temptation and only given in a few times. Those events felt like they were saving my sanity, they never had anything to do with me loving my husband any less, or making up for his insufficiencies.
Even if I had waited to get married I still would've had these side relationships. It wasn't until I started listening to your advice that I realized that maybe I wasn't the problem. Now there's this book and it gives me hope that our culture might one day be more open about this subject and perhaps more people will come to see the inability to be monogamous as less of a character flaw and more of a fact of life.
For all these years I didn't even know that's what it was, or what was wrong with me, all I knew was that I felt like shit because I couldn't do it. Thanks for cluing me into evolution, reptile brains, etc. This is all very pertinent now, as I am at a serious crossroads and I need all the help I can get.—M
I'm not giving M here a pass on the cheating. I think people should be honest with their partners, etc. What I'd like to see—and what I think a book like Sex At Dawn brings us closer to—is more realism and more honesty. People should have open, honest conversations with prospective partners about their needs, their expectations, what they're capable of, and what happens if they fall short, before they make what may be, for them, an unrealistic promise that they are not just likely to break, but hard-wired to break.
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SL Letter of the Day: More Advice From Sex At Dawn Coauthor Christopher Ryan
Posted by Dan Savage on Wed, Jul 7, 2010 at 1:30 PM
I'm a 29-year-old straight male. My girlfriend and I have been together for four years, officially as boyfriend and girlfriend for two. We are very much in love. However, since the beginning of our relationship, my girlfriend has told me that she is not interested in being monogamous for her entire life. She has talked to me about this intermittently since our relationship began. Before we were officially together, she dated and slept with a couple of people, and I was ok with it (I didn't like it, but didn't make a fuss either), because that was what she wanted. Over the course of our relationship, she has made it very clear that I am her man, her #1 priority, BUT she knows that in the future she's going to want to sleep with other guys. She also has said that I would be free to sleep with other girls.
My question is, how do I get over this terrible feeling that I get whenever I think about my girlfriend having sex with another man? I try to be open-minded, but every time the idea is presented, I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I want to make her happy, and I want to be able to go along with what she would like, but the same feelings and problems come up when she mentions this. I'll admit that I'm afraid some or all of our own intimacy will be taken away. But I think, what it comes down to, is that I don't like the idea of someone else getting to have sex with MY girlfriend. Am I wrong to think this way? I don't think of her as my property, but we plan on getting married and I'm worried that this will be a huge problem. She says that variety is the spice of life and that I should get over this because i put too much importance on sex, when I should separate sex and love.
I just don't know, Dan. Am I making too big a deal out of this? I am very happy with our relationship, and our sex life. And she has told me on numerous occasions that sex with me is the best she's ever had, but also that variety is the spice of life. Which then makes me think, "Why would she want anyone else if I'm the best?" And honestly, it makes me feel as if I'm not enough. Any advice you can offer would be fantastic.
When The Best Isn't Enough
Christopher Ryan, coauthor of Sex At Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality, was this week's guest expert in this "Savage Love." You can read his wise, kind, and helpful answers to people struggling with monogamy—and anyone who's made a monogamous commitment is struggling with monogamy there. Christopher was also kind enough to answer a few bonus questions for Slog. His response to WTBIE is after the jump. You should click through and read it right after you buy Christopher's book.
Christopher writes:
Whether or not you’re making “too big a deal out of this” depends on several things. First, assuming you could overcome this sick feeling you get when the issue comes up, would you want a long term (possibly life-long) relationship with this woman, on these terms? In other words, is your reaction something you see as a weakness in yourself that you’d like to overcome, or does it represent a fundamental difference in how the two of you understand and experience sex and intimacy?
You sound like a sincere, thoughtful, self-reflective guy, so I’m going to assume the woman you love is similarly evolved, psychologically. She’s not going to change, and even if you could find a way to make her, that would only lead to resentment and disaster. Our greatest ambition for Sex at Dawn is that it will encourage young people like you to clarify their sexual nature before signing on to long term commitments they can’t get out of later without making a huge mess. It sounds like she’s very clear on who she is and what kind of relationship can/cannot work for her long term, so it’s up to you to try to take it or leave it.
As to your insecurities, since she’s already risked losing you by being up-front about her unwillingness to sign on to long-term sexual monogamy, I see no reason to doubt her when she says she loves you and that her intimacy with you is far more than she has with anyone else. One of the advantages of sexual experience (which she seems to have) is that you realize that sex isn’t magical. She’s never going to leave you because another guy has a bigger Johnson or screws her better. She already knows what’s out there, and she’s found what she likes best with you. It sounds like she’s offering you emotional, but not sexual monogamy. So now you’ve got to decide whether you want to try to disentangle those two issues in your own experience.
If you do, I’d suggest seeing this as a way to deepen your connection with her. Explain that you want to really understand her experience and share yours. Ask her to tell you about her experiences with other men and notice your feelings. Are you disgusted? Turned on? Afraid? All of the above? Tell her about some of your experiences with other women and explore her reactions. Watch porn together and see what she particularly likes or doesn’t. Maybe you want to go to a swinger’s club or party together and see how it feels to be in a room with people having sex. You might find that doing these sorts of things together helps transform this issue from something that creates distance to something that binds you together even more.
If this goes well, you might work out some ground-rules for dealing with other lovers. How much do you want to know? Do you want to know when she’s with someone, or just hear about it later—or neither? Do you want to try being with another couple together? (This might help you overcome the fear of the unknown, as you’ll be right there the whole time, with a safe-word that you’ve agreed to use if you want to stop at any time.)
If you can develop a relationship in which sex becomes something the two of you share—even when it involves other people—you might end up with something very special. But if this sounds like more trouble than it’s worth, you might want to seriously consider looking for someone whose views on monogamy are less challenging for you.
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If Your Dad's Getting Handjobs From His Masseuse and Your Mom Doesn't Mind—Or Even Approves—She Probably Isn't Going to Tell You About It
Posted by Dan Savage on July 13, 2010
Whenever anyone questions the moral and cultural biases that favor monogamy—and Slog ain't the only blog that's been writing about Sex at Dawn—folks with tales of non-monogamous woe rush in to share their sad stories of marriages and relationships destroyed.
Here's the first thing to keep in mind during this discussion: non-monogamy runs the gamut from couples who allow for some outside sexual contact under very limited circumstances to full-swap swingers with sex swings in their rec rooms to couples who are free to do whatever, whenever, wherever to whoever to the masseuse who lightens your mom's load by relieving your dad of his.
And here's the second thing to keep in mind: most people in successful non-monogamous relationships keep their mouths shut. Almost all non-monogamous couples—particularly the straight ones—are invested in being perceived as monogamous because... well, just look at the way people freak out and start jumping up and down when anyone suggests that monogamy isn't for everyone. With so many terrified, insecure people running around questioning the commitment—even the sanity—of non-monogmaous couples, it's understandable that so few are out.
So as you read the sad stories about failed open relationships that are being offered in (over)reaction to Sex at Dawn—the authors don't actually advocate open relationships—please bear in mind that the voices of happy, content, and successful non-monogamous couples are almost entirely absent from this debate. Your parents or your married siblings or your coworkers or your best friends—some couples you know—could be in open relationships. And if they are, dear reader, odds are good that you won't find out unless 1. the relationship falls apart and 2. the relationship's failure can be pinned on openness, i.e. dad leaves mom for his masseuse.
While the successfully non-monogamous keep their mouths screwed shut—the tribute a presumed vice is bullied into paying an overblown virtue—survivors of failed non-monogamous relationships 1. never shut up and 2. see their stories highlighted by moralizers as proof that non-monogamous relationships never work out. Because, hey, if non-monogamy ever worked, well, where are all the successful non-monogamous couples then?
I don't know—go ask your mother.