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 was inspired to write in because of a recent letter writer, who seems to have the opposite problem as me (“I Want Ice Cream, Anxiety Gave Me Oatmeal”). I’m a 28-year-old woman in a two-and-a-half-year relationship with a man. We moved in together about three months ago, and things have been good. My problem is that before him, I really enjoyed turning men on with lingerie—dressing up and teasing them.
I spent thousands of dollars on my collection. I know I look good, and it used to make me feel powerful. But my boyfriend doesn’t show an ounce of interest. When I’ve brought attention to it, he will compliment it and seems to understand on an intellectual level that I look nice, but it doesn’t turn him on even an iota. However, when we’ve come back from riding bikes or hiking, after I’ve worked out, or even after I’ve just been busy all day and look disheveled, he’ll be incredibly into me. These are the times when I feel the least sexy! And the idea of having sex then is still alien to me, bordering on gross.
This has given me a double hit of anxiety. I feel as if I’m losing the ability to dress up and attract his attention, which is affecting my self-worth. I also feel as if I’m not able to predict when I’m going to get his attention and often find myself turning it down when it’s offered because I just don’t feel up to it. I’ve talked about this a little with my boyfriend, but I’m not sure what a good resolution here is. He supports me dressing how I want and he never says anything negative about it, but he’s just not interested in it sexually and I don’t want him to fake interest. At the same time, I don’t want him not to express an interest in me when he is attracted to me (even when I feel gross, it still feels good to know he’s into me)—he’s more restrained in his comments, but that also makes me feel as if I’m being mean to him. (Which, to be clear, is just my anxiety and nothing based on what he’s said.) Any advice?
—Serving Up Ice Cream but Being Asked for Oatmeal
Dear Serving Up Ice Cream,
I’m hearing that dressing up and being appreciated for that effort is a big part of your sexuality. That’s OK—lots of people get turned on by presenting themselves in specific ways, whether that’s in lingerie, latex, or horse harnesses. I am wondering, though, whether you can give yourself the validation you crave around this particular subject, and uncover some details in the process. The next time you get gussied up, take some time in the mirror with yourself to appreciate your own taste, your own body, and the aesthetic appeal you have crafted in that moment. Try to understand what exactly you get out of wearing lingerie. Do you like the way it feels? The way it looks? Do you imagine your boyfriend seeing you in some specific way—as luxurious, as a goddess, as a beautiful package to be taken apart? Or can the power you used to feel come from your own esteem?
As for predicting when you’re going to receive attention from your boyfriend, I think you can make some solid guesses. He likes it when you’re dressed down and disheveled. He might be turned on by sweat, the way your face flushes, or the general undoneness of it all. Take the details you’ve learned from the exercise in the first paragraph, and start a conversation. You’re seeking to understand and to be understood. Hopefully, you’ll both be able to find a way into each other’s desires and you’ll be better able to take turns catering to what the other prefers. But to see whether that’s possible, you have to know more and be better understood.
You might hear from your boyfriend that he’s turned on by you after a hike, then decide to shower together as a way of maintaining his erotic energy while you get to a place where you can feel it yourself. You might find that something he shares about what he likes when you’re sweaty gives you that sense of power you used to get from lingerie. He might hear that you want to be looked at and unwrapped slowly (if that’s the case) and be able to understand that better than a statement of wanting your sartorial choices appreciated. And, lastly, consider how important the things you’re missing are to you before you commit any further.
—Jessica Stoya
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My husband and I have an amazing relationship, and I love him deeply. A few months ago, at my suggestion, we started trying threesomes (with another woman) and have really enjoyed it so far. It’s brought us even closer—it’s given me a chance to explore that side of my sexuality—and it’s been a really fun and positive experience. One of our boundaries concerns his orgasm, which we decided from the beginning should always be with me.
