Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life

by Emily Nagoski

“What I need is to hear that it’s okay to feel sad that my body will never be what it used to be. I put a lot of effort into learning to love that body, and now I’ve got to start all over again learning to love this one.” So I said, “It’s okay to feel sad that your body has permanently changed.”

it doesn’t matter how hard you hit the accelerator if the brake is on the floor.

you can’t stop criticizing yourself by beating yourself up when you criticize yourself. If you notice yourself thinking, “Ugh, I suck,” and then think, “Darn it all, Emily told me to stop doing that! I suck!” that’s not really helping, right? So when you notice yourself thinking, “Ugh, I suck,” or whatever it is you say to yourself when things don’t go your way, just notice that. Just notice that it’s a weed. You didn’t put it there—it snuck under the fence. And take that opportunity to plant a seed of something positive. For example, when you think, “Ugh, I suck,” plant the thought, “I’m okay.” As in, “I’m safe,” “I’m whole,” or “I’m home.” You’re okay.

There is about a 50 percent overlap between what men’s genitals respond to as “sex-related” and what their brains respond to as “sexually appealing.” And there is about a 10 percent overlap between what women’s genitals respond to as “sex-related” and what their brains respond to as “sexually appealing.” Men’s genitals are relatively specific in what they respond to, and so are their brains. Women’s genitals are relatively general in what they respond to, while their brains are more sensitive to context.

The standard narrative of sexual desire is that it just appears—you’re sitting at lunch or walking down the street, maybe you see a sexy person or think a sexy thought, and pow! you’re saying to yourself, “I would like some sex!” That’s Olivia’s usual style. That’s “spontaneous” desire. But some people find that they begin to want sex only after sexy things are already happening. Rather than eagerly anticipating sex, they might have a pragmatic motivation for showing up at 7 p.m. on Saturday night, because date night is on their calendar. They put their bodies in the bed, let their skin touch their partner’s skin… and their body wakes up and says, “Oh, right! I like this person! I enjoy this!” That’s responsive desire. Where spontaneous desire appears in anticipation of pleasure, responsive desire emerges in response to pleasure. And it’s normal. People with responsive desire don’t have “low” desire, they don’t suffer from any ailment, they don’t even long to initiate but feel like they’re not allowed to. Their bodies just need some more compelling reason than, “Sex is generally fun,” or “That’s an attractive person right there,” to crave sex. They can be sexually satisfied and in healthy relationships, and yet never crave sex out of the blue.

You might feel stuck. You might be exhausted. You feel depressed, anxious, worn out by the demands of taking care of everyone else, and in desperate, dire need of renewal. You might be tired of feeling like you need to defend yourself and tired of wishing your body would do something different. You might wish that for a little while, someone else would defend you so you could lower your guard and just be. Just for a while. Those are circumstances; they’re not you. You are okay. You are whole. There exists inside you a sexuality that protects you by withdrawing until times are propitious. I completely get how terribly frustrating it can be that your partner’s body feels like times are propitious right now, while your body is still wary. And it’s even worse because the more ready your partner’s body seems, the more wary your body becomes. It sucks, for both of you. But it’s in there, your sexuality. It’s part of you, as much as your skin and your heartbeat and your vocabulary. It’s there. It’s waiting. Just because you’ve had no call to use the words “calefacient” or “perfervid” lately doesn’t mean they’re no longer available to you. If the opportunity arises, there they will be, ready, waiting. Like your best friend, your sexual desire is waiting for your life to allow it to come out and play. Let it, whenever it feels safe enough.

When people who have magnificent sex want sex, they don’t just want the sex we see performed in the mainstream media or porn. They want to know themselves and their partners more fully, and they want to be seen and known more fully, felt more deeply, held more closely. This is what I call “magnificent desire.”

And the answer is, of course, “Ugh, patriarchy.”