I don't know if you remember the Bobbitt trial. Lorena Bobbitt, June 23, 2008 Today is the day in 1993 where Lorena Bobbitt took a kitchen knife to her sleeping husband after he was supposed to have raped her and slashed off his penis. She then drove away and threw it in a neighboring field. They were later able to sew it back on and he had some limited success in using it afterwords. John Bobbitt even stared in a really bad porn movie afterwords as he cashed in on his 15 minutes. It was quite a news story. The word Bobbitt got added to the english language as a popular culture addition to Websters meaning violent emasculation. What I remember most about it was sitting in the newsroom before my show on CKQB, the Bear in Ottawa and listening to the news guys laugh about it, and struggle to say the word penis. Now newsrooms all over are notoriously irreverent, but those guys have got game, and are able to keep a straight face reading the most outrageous news story. This story however, had them doubled over. You could hear them snickering like kids and kept blowing their practice news reading over the word penis. I guess most people (with sex therapists being the exception) don't say the word penis very often. Rolling my eyes, I had the guys practice saying 'penis, penis, penis, penis" over and over until they could state it without cracking up. It was a lesson to me in the language of sex, and that even hard boiled news guys could be uncomfortable about terminology. It also taught me that if you have something to say that's uncomfortable trying practicing it over and over again until you get it right. Finally, it shows me now quickly the sexual paradigm changes and how much more open the media is about using sexual words than they were even 15 years ago. And finally, it gives you a healthy respect for a woman scorned holding a butcher knife.
I was asked to do a comparison of Canadian and American sex differences by McLean;s for their upcoming Canada Day issue. Here are some of my thoughts (having lost the first edition of this blog, I'll get to the steamy stuff later….
Every time I cross the border into upstate New York (and you can see the border from my parent's house on the St. Lawrence), I am astounded at the differences. It's less than 200 yards from my old bedroom window and you can dingy across the river, but the American's speak differently, have different clothes, different phrases and very different attitudes.
Despite a media frenzy of Calvin Klein ads, they really are much, much more uptight about sex than we are here. In Canada, we are hypocritical (ie sex for money isn't illegal, just talking about it is), but the US is far more puritanical. Everything from how they censor their politicians (and everyone has some sort of sexual quirk), to how they sell sex toys seems to be a duality of sorts. We are headed to a more European approach to sexuality, while the Church has a far greater impact on their state (and subsequent sex policies) than they do here. And the politics are the right, and the far right. So, it still is a "do what I say, not what I do" culture. Remember it's the second most powerful drive, and it only pops up without an outlet. The sex offender numbers there astound me. As for sex ed, I really blame the whole Bush doctrine of abstinence only education. (the only kind of sex ed programs that got funded). Almost every kid (Christian or not) will give into their raging hormones when given an opportunity. If all they can only say "no" it precludes planning for pregnancies, and STI's. There are far more inner city kids proportionally, who grow up in a culture of teen's having babies, and in their world, it is socially condoned. In Canada the same group of marginal young women get pregnant (to get out of home, get someone to love…etc) but it isn't growing at a significant rate comparatively.
I love being a sex therapist, and think sex is one of the last great free pleasures that everyone should do with joy and grace. I know not everyone has the amazing experiences of astounding sex, and I try not to project my interest in exploring every fascinating corner that their sexuality might be on unsuspecting people. Sometimes my enthusiasm gets away from me, and you can forgive me for assuming that sex is all about different ways of rubbing genitals.
Except that yesterday I was reminded why sex is such a strong basic urge and why we really actually do it. I saw my much anticipated, overwhelmingly loved, newborn niece, and was taken aback with the magic of reproduction, and flat out miracle of life. She was close to three weeks early, and despite a rough arrival is absolutely perfect. Tiny little ears, eyelashes, toes and the whole five pounds of her would fit easily in two palms. With my own babies as excited as I was (and how amazing they each were) I was too busy recovering from delivering them, (and then manage serious sleep deprivation) to really sit back and revel in how fantastic the whole process of sexual reproduction is. Despite all the problems we have as human beings we still continue to cook up these perfect little packages in less time than it takes to write a thesis outline (at least mine). You can forget so easily that our jobs as sexual beings is to win the genetic lottery of having life beyond our own, and passing on our DNA material a little further and improving on the current model. Evolution means we are outdated by our kids, and their jobs are to grow up healthy, survive and reproduce to have kids of their own.
Maybe I'm waxing a bit poetic here, but if that's why we are all here on this planet, maybe the world isn't such a mixed up place after all. Welcome baby Hannah, we celebrate your arrival, and know that your wayward aunt will love you and will always have gum. Smile.
There is a quote this morning from 51 year old Kim Cattrall. Now I think Kim is cool. She's a Canadian girl who did a book about sex, she played the maneater Samatha on Sex in the City (complete with an amazing wardrobe), and says that sex is getting better as she ages.
She tells Britain's Cosmopolitanmagazine, "Everyone expects great-looking guys and beautiful women to be having great sex. That's not true. I always had a sexy image on camera, but I wasn't having a fabulous sex life.
"Why? Because you can't be intimate with an image. Similarly, I remember going to bed with a really good-looking ladies' man, in the hope he'd teach me what I'd been missing. He didn't."
I thought about that a bit, and know for sure that great sexual abilities are not bestowed on the beautiful. Thank God, or we would have to hate them more. What is sexy is confidence, and individuals who are in love and hot for each other. I say in my Quivering Jello book, that when interviewing women about orgasms, the best sex is messy. Not being afraid to screw up your face, bodily fluids, strange noises, hair-in-your-mouth, arched back and belly jiggling, that- in my opinion- constitutes good sex.
So you want to pick out who would be hottest in bed? Watch women dancing. The one who looks good shuffling around isn't who you are looking for. You want the crazy dancer, flailing around, who is not afraid to express herself on the dance floor. Chances are, she won't be afraid to "jump inthe saddle" and try the somewhat kinky things, or not worry about messing up her hair. Those are the women you want to sleep with.
It’s summer in the city, and I have been doing my cardio along the Ottawa River parkway instead of a sweaty gym in the mornings. The river is beautiful as the sun comes up and I walk/jog and make friends with the wildlife. Actually it’s more walk, pant, gasp and do penace for the chocolate kryptonite stuff, and the river is the only place private enough for me to find a bush to pee behind every half hour. How do the marathoners handle bladder control?
Anyway, I usually see herons, a whole bunch of noisy, obnoxious geese, and some very cool ducks. I often remind my patients to be gentle with themselves about their sexual desires, and this mornings animal matings were a good example of why. We really are animals. Only 2% different from chimps, we certainly should be mating, eating and living like them in my opinion. If every living cell has two primary functions – to survive and reproduce, then once your tummies were full, the thought is on sex. So if you are thinking about it every four seconds, then it’s perfectly normal.
So I’m walking at the shoreline and the ducks are moving radidly out of the way as I’m no longer a source of breadcrumbs. All except for a mating pair, very close to the shore. The coloured male looks at me mid-stroke in some ways pleading with me not to interrupt. Communing with a very focused mallard. The Robin Williams skit about daffy duck reaching orgasm went through my head. I voyeristically watched until he had done what he set out to do, and then he paddled away. Sex, a powerful, and very natural motivator. I hope it was good for them.
And speaking of sexy Ducks, I run a social group called The Ducklings. It’s currently in five cities in North America (and expanding) and is the place for sexy but safe date nights. If you want to find out more and get a list of sexy date night ideas check out the coolest community on the continent.
It’s freezing cold here. I mean minus 35 with the wind chill, huddle under the covers, get frostbite in seconds kind of cold. For you non-Canadian readers, and hey I might have a few people that have actually read this blog from the warmer climates, its the kind of day perfect for sharing body heat and a foaming, mint hot chocolate.
It is this marriage of sex and chocolate that has me reading (from cover to cover in one sitting) this FANTASTIC book by Joan Sewell called, I’d rather eat chocolate.
She says in her opening " If I had a choice between reading a good book and having sex, the book wins. I notice I put in the adjective "good" – and that leaves me wondering if I’m not trying to put a better face on things. But my boyfriend-the man I would eventually marry- would take even bad sex over a good book."
It’s the best book I’ve ever read ( and I think I’ve read them all published in the last five years) on female sexual dysfunction or the phenomenon known as low libido. Sewell tries everything, therapy, chocolate frosting, leather and fishnets, tantric, and sensate focused experiences to get her in the mood, and writes about all of them with wit and candor. She finally comes up with a sex contract with her husband where she can control the time, type and duration of sex, and it seems to work for them.
Funny, my type of therapy would be to endorse hormonal creams, a blood test and look at more physical options, but her results seem to work for her relationship. I’m really glad I read it. One of the things I found interesting was her husband’s desire for visual stimulation. If he can’t have sex, it’s enough for him to see her sexily dressed around the house, when only he could see her. I asked my partner if that was a turn on for him (all decked out in my sweat pants and no bra), and said that as long as I was clean, he could get turned on by me in a burlap sack. A good illustration of male sexual desires as summed up on page 114 of Sewell"s book:
"Might not hormonal differences between men and women answer a heap of questions about why men are the way they are? Like why men will sleep with just about anyone who offers; like why mn approach sex like a Hometown Buffet- they want endless variety and big heaping helpings; like why men can use any object asa a fetish onject; like why a man’s dream come true is sleeping with all of the Dallas cowboys cheerleaders at once, while a women’s dream bacchanal is to shop, eat, and not gain weight."
Had an interesting sex problem to deal with today. A full blown case of sexual anorexia. For my purposes here, sexual anorexia is one form of sexual addiction, where one partner would rather masturbate and view porn on the internet than have sex with a willing partner.
I met this lovely couple for the first time -who loved each other and are in a committed relationship. And who, both like sex and masturbate a few times a week, but don’t have sex with each other. They haven’t had sex for many years, and he doesn’t have any urge beyond the masturbation a few times a week. So they don’t and now she’s ready to explode. It’s a testament to their relationship that she’s been able to go this long.
In the few cases of sexual anorexia I’ve ever seen, anti-depressants have been a contributing factor, primarily paxil or Elixor. They call porn the crack cocaine of the 21st Century, and I wonder how many other people are living with this sexual addiction? Just musing out loud. I’ll keep you posted.
It must be a case of raging-almost 40 year old hormones that I find myself checking out men at Starbucks. I watch the blind and first dates being played out over grande moch latte’s. I also watch the body language of what I think our married couples doing the "third rate romance thing". A secret lover, or a Mistress for Christmas – sound interesting? The problem is that for so many women it’s way, way past the "zipless Fuck" that Erica Jong so aptly summed up. It’s the connection, the squoogies, the intimacy, the je ne sais quoi, the romance that makes us damp…
So it’s finding the partner that fulfills a bunch of secret desires can be illusive. Women whether they’ll admit it themselves want that feeling of pooling lust, and romance in low places intheir bodies. It’s a bit about both the ying and the yang. Larry Brooks says: "initially it’s all about compatible assests. Chemistry. Before long the game changes, it becomes about compatible liabilities. A killer one-eighty. To make it really work, to make the turn, you have to have compatible flaws, compatible vulnerabilities, compaticle tolerances." So the relationship is about havign insecurities together. I ponder this over my tea as I watch the age old mating dance played out in front of me. Maybe it’s only about compatible frappachinos.
I watch less than an hour a week of television, and instead I usually have my nose in a book for my mindless entertainment. But I have a fascination with human relationship drama, and got caught up watching the first episode of that Beauty and the Geek show. This is the show where they have a bunch of MIT and Harvard top science grads, who, are more than a little socially awkward and a bunch of beautiful women undergoing challenges. For the guys, think pocket protectors and clashing plaid shirts. Then there is the guy in the star Trek uniform….But earnest, sweet, and genuinely looking for self improvement. They are then matched with a bunch of airhead Hooters waitresses, Playboy bunnies, and WWF ringside girls, who prove to be more than a little brainless. It’s every stereotype you’ve ever thought about these two groups.
As offended as I was by the whole thing, I couldn’t seem to stop watching it. These guys just want to be Bill Gates (and then the girls will come in droves), and the girls seem to just want to have fun. They also want the $250,000 for winning. My money is on the guys. You can teach social skills, but how to you teach intellectual smarts? What I found particularly interesting is how the age old dance of boy/girl happens even if the women are totally, totally, not interested in the guys. If these girls were smart, they might just take a second look at their geeks. I know I would if I were in the same position.
So another story this week from a new premature ejaculator. I was asking if he was circumcised, and he mentioned that he was, along with baby smooth all over. I asked in passing is he waxed or lasered (all the rage for cleaning up the shaft), and he said, "no, I duct tape myself." oh?!, tell me more….
Apparently, he felt he couldn’t get someone else to clean up all that hair, so decided to take it on himself. He uses duct tape (one of it’s million uses, not outlined on the Red Green show), to pull the hair out of the shaft a la waxing. He said you get used to the pain, and now he only has to do it once a month, but is incredibly smooth. He offered to show it to me, and I must admit to being tempted. in the name of scientific, sexuality education of course. So, if you try this at home folks, please let me know.
I know I’ve been missing in action. Busy getting ready for the holidays, organizing choas, blah,blah blah, but most significantly has been an interesting crop of new patients.
I’m gettting more and more patients in their senior years. They still have the urge, when asked, most of them felt that they would like sex at least daily if they could find a willing partner. In their 70’s and 80’s. yeah It turns out that we all want to have sex until they take us away in a box.
I had an interesting experience this week, when one of my 80 year old erectile dysfunction patients (hey, they’re not all impotent, it’s just way more prevelant than say, premature ejaculation) decided to flash me in my office. Uncircumcised, and without the “shaving private Ryan” experience, I realized that despite his aging issues, he still thought of himself as virile and attractive. Okay, it looked a bit like a small sausage, but he was obviously still proud of his equipment. Needed to show it off. I consider it an occupational hazard.
When I’m 80, I want to be interested in flashing someone half my age and making it count. As long as you use it as often as possible, watch the cholesteral, and do those keegal exercise (clench your bum and internal muscles while you are sitting there), you should still have both the desire and equipment to keep up that boffing into old age. Here’s to aging while still getting it on.
I’m talking to my gaggle of girlfriends, or out with the cool group of spinmamas the new "red hat society" for women in their 30’s and 40’s, and of course, the conversation turns to sex. Women approaching 40 seem to go one of two ways. Either their sex drive increases (guess which way mine is going…), or decreases and sex becomes a chore on the list of things to do.
I’ve spoken to a number of men in the last week, whose wives hate sex. They lie back, look at the ceiling (or over their shoulder at the TV), zone out, or avoid it at all costs. These men are feeling rejected, frustrated, and are looking for solutions. The option of continuing the same way has become intolerable. These men love their wives, but have basic needs that aren’t getting met.
So if they don’t want to break up families, what are they to do? Mistress? There is the difficulty in finding one. Escorts? Ewww, rushed, legal issues, one of many, cleanliness and disease, ethics, ect. Bars on business trips? Same problem -complications, disease, time in finding an outlet. So, I’m trying to ponder a solution. Mistress for rent? Sex while you wait? Toys?
I don’t know, all I hear is that thie is cruel and unusual punishment for kind and loving guys. There’s got to be a solution and I’m going to look for it. Think of the stories that will come out of that service…