A Man in My Support Group Offered Me Something My Husband Never Could. It’s Making Me Think Twice.

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Dear How to Do It,

I’m a 58-year-old gay man, and have been with my partner for 28 years and married since it was legal. We’ve been monogamous for 26. I’m being treated for prostate cancer. I finished radiation and am on a year of Androgen Deprivation Therapy (ADT), which reduces my testosterone to zero. I have seven months to go.

This has caused sexual issues. My libido went from high to low, but if I take Cialis and we have a lot of touching and foreplay, I’m good to go for oral sex, frotting and mutual masturbation, but not hard enough for intercourse. I also have difficulty reaching orgasm sometimes but am told when the treatment is done all these side effects will fade away and that, a year from now, I will be back to normal but may need erectile dysfunction (ED) meds for life.

My husband has been amazing: coming to my medical appointments, holding and comforting me during side effects of radiation, etc. We’ve maintained a sex life but when things aren’t going that great I find myself apologizing for my lack of performance. He always just says, “It’s fine” or “You’re doing great.” I love his masculinity and loved sharing mine with him, but now feel I have nothing to give him in this area since I’m essentially castrated. My body hair has fallen off and I’ve lost a lot of muscle despite maintaining a good workout routine. He tells me I’m still sexy but I know it’s not true.

I was talking about this with a guy in my support group who is going through the same thing. We’ve really hit it off and become good friends. He is also partnered but the last time we had lunch he said, “You know, it would be great to have sex with someone like you who understands exactly how I feel right now.” Part of me thinks he has crossed a line and I wanted to say, “Thanks for the thought but we’re monogamous,” but it tugged on something in my heart and I thought, “You know, he’s right.” It WOULD be nice to have sex with someone who understands how much cancer sucks and to whom I wouldn’t have to explain things or make apologies.

I would never cheat but I’m wondering if this is something I should discuss with my husband. I think he might be hurt, but now that my friend said this I also feel like I’m getting into the territory of “cheating emotionally” (nothing physical has happened except platonic hugs). What do you think? Also, do you have any good resources on sex after cancer? Doctors REALLY don’t want to talk about this stuff.

—A Year to Go

Dear a Year to Go,

I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong at this juncture, but—while your request for resources may seem like a throwaway line at the end of your letter—I do think you and your husband could use some help in understanding each other.

Canadian organization Queering Cancer has some interesting resources, including this literature review on sex after prostate cancer for gay and bi men. The “similar articles” section on that second link has a lot of juicy looking stuff, too. It’s frustrating that doctors don’t want to talk about sex, but it’s worth remembering that their training on sexuality is relatively cursory unless they specialize in it. They simply aren’t prepared to handle this difficult subject. But speaking of specialties, you might seek out a sex therapist or counselor who has experience with clients who are working through cancer recovery. I know that friend of the column and certified sexuality counselor/clinical nurse specialist Dr. Anne Katz is one such practitioner, and you may be able to find others through an online search or support groups. The American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors, and Therapists is a great resource for finding professionals.

Katz, by the way, commented over email that, “For someone on androgen deprivation therapy, [you are] doing really well as most (as in 90%+) men on this medication have ZERO libido… or erections (even not rigid ones!).”

One of the hardest parts of relationships is dealing with the fact that we sometimes can’t truly know what our partners are going through, and, similarly, they sometimes can’t truly know what we’re dealing with. There are a lot of messages out there that promise a sort of mind-meld when we find the right partner, and that isn’t actually the case in a permanent way. If we reframe those moments of deep, immediate grokking of something about our partners as a beautiful and temporary happenstance, we may find relief from the feeling that we’re doing something wrong or our relationship is inadequate when we don’t reach that level of understanding at other times.

I’ll add: I’m wondering whether you’ve considered the fact that your husband might be telling the truth when he says you’re still sexy. Sexy is about a whole lot more than the physical body. While your body may have changed, your mind and essence are still you. It might help to have a conversation with your husband about what he finds attractive about you right now. But you’ll have to believe him when he tells you what he’s feeling.

Do set that boundary with the fellow in your support group. Whether or not you bring this incident up with your husband is your choice, and you’re better suited to gauge how he’s likely to react to receiving that information. If you think it might damage your relationship, it’s best to leave it in the past. But if you think he’ll empathize with your feelings, or that it might help broach the subject of the gaps between your experiences in a useful way, I say go for it.

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Dear How to Do It, 

My wife and I (both 40) find ourselves in what I know to be a fairly common situation. Married for 15 years and with two kids, our sex life is in the midst of a slow decline. We have read Come as You Are and she strongly identifies with experiencing responsive desire.

I have a decent grasp of what that means, and I accept that’s how she operates, but the place where I get hung up is how I, as the partner who is still actively attracted to and interested in having sex with my wife, should deal with the evident reality of never being desired sexually. It’s really demoralizing! I’m still a fuckable person! For what it’s worth, we have very mutually satisfying sex when it does occur (a couple times a month at this point)…but it would never occur if I did not instigate it. I can live with that, but I’d be lying if I said I was happy with the prospect of not being wanted for the rest of my sexual life. Non-monogamy is not an option for her. How can I be less bummed about this situation?

—Want Her to Want Me

Dear Want Her to Want Me,

I reached out to Emily Nagoski herself, whose latest book Come Together, a sequel of sorts to Come As You Are, recently published. Here’s what she shared:

“The simplest way to explain responsive desire is that it emerges in response to pleasure, whereas spontaneous desire emerges in anticipation of pleasure. The key word is pleasure. If everyone involved enjoys the sex they’re having, you’re doing it right. By the same token, it is not dysfunctional not to want sex you do not like. So it sounds to me like this is a couple that needs to have a conversation about pleasure. Also, I hope they read Come Together because it answers this very question.”

So, it isn’t so much that your wife doesn’t want you, as it is that she needs a certain sort of stimulus to catalyze that want in the current moment—she needs a specific kind of spark to light that fire of desire. Your fire gets lit from thinking about the future. Maybe, I’m guessing here, this difference in response to the present moment versus anticipation is something that each of you exhibits in other areas of your life as well. That’s a conversation you could have with each other, and a place where you could do introspection regarding yourself.

You also might think back on the beginning of your relationship. Were there moments of flirtation, teasing, or a slow approach to initiation that have gotten lost over the years? Is it possible that you were giving your wife things to respond to in the early days that have fallen by the wayside as you went through pregnancies and shifted life priorities to allow for the energy and effort required to raise children? If so, try recognizing those actions for the catalysts they were and incorporate them purposefully into your interactions with your wife moving forward.

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Dear How to Do It,

My wife and I generally have a good sex life.  She especially enjoys digital stimulation, including clitoral and G-spot massage. About six months ago, my wife went in for her annual pap smear. We recently moved, and the check-up was with her new general practitioner (who, overall, is very good). The doctor noticed that she had developed a Bartholin’s cyst. She/we had never noticed the cyst (it was not causing any pain or discomfort), we do not know if it is new or if it had been present for a while. The doctor suggested a biopsy, which was performed, and the results came back as no issue.

Since the biopsy, my wife experiences pain any time I massage her clitoris. Deeper (G-spot) massage, oral, and PIV penetration are fine. But clitoral massage was a huge part of our foreplay—think sitting and watching TV while gently touching and playing. This pain has had a definite negative impact on our sex life and our ability to sexually connect in this manner as now there is always anxiety about pain. If I do accidentally bump the biopsy spot, it’s a pretty quick turn off with a lower chance of her becoming re-aroused. Sitting with my hand in her shorts or leggings and casually massaging her clit is a lot more chill than finding the right angle to get my fingers deep enough to massage and stimulate her G-spot (don’t get me wrong, I can and do gladly provide those services, it’s just more of a “pants off and get in the right position” commitment than the more “mindlessly sitting on the couch” type of foreplay that we had before).

I’m assuming that when the doctor took the biopsy the scar/tissue has exposed more nerves making that area more sensitive. We’ve experimented, but unfortunately I cannot feel the cyst nor specifically identify the scar/tissue that has become so sensitive, so massaging while avoiding the sensitive spot does not seem to be a straight forward option. Do you have any tips or ideas as to how to de-sensitize things? We don’t really want to give up that part of our sex life (but, of course, will if we can’t find a solution). We were hoping that after a few months the tissue would heal and things would get better, but at the six month point it feels like maybe this is not going to naturally return to how things were before.

—Massage Envy

Dear Massage Envy,

You can look into lidocaine cream, but you’ll have to be able to find the cyst-scar in order to apply it to the appropriate place. Rather than numbing the symptom, though, I think your best bet is to encourage your wife to follow up with her GP or even better her gynecologist, to see whether the actual problem can be solved. If they brush her off, she can always get a second opinion.

Dear How to Do It,

My wife and I are 53 and have been married for 12 years. We have three boys in their 20s (two are hers, one is mine) that are out of the house now. I’m retiring from a high stress job of 25 years. She stepped away from a medical profession about a year ago. We’ve been avid RVers for the last few years and decided to sell the house, downsize significantly, and travel the country for an extended period of time. We’re already about 4 months in. We’ve both been longing for an adventure for a long time, and now our dream is coming true! We’re loving it!

During all this unloading of stress and responsibility, we’re rediscovering our sex life. We’ve had many conversations about how the constraints of work, family, and taking care of a home put a damper on it. So we’ve been making time to discuss what each of us likes and doesn’t like, fantasies, and rekindling new intimacy—new toys, new positions, a little role playing, light bondage, flirting with each other, etc.

In one of our conversations, my wife brought up having a threesome or foursome. This is something that I’ve fantasized about for years but have treaded lightly on it. We had a threesome once early on and it was OK but a little weird—the situation was off, and the third was not a good choice. It just wasn’t as fun as we had hoped. I revisited this with her now a couple of times and she really is actually interested—it’s not just a passing fantasy. We want to take it slow. We’re rekindling our desire for each other so we know there is some effort we need to put in first before we add another. At some point though, we need to set something up with another person or couple.

So my question is how do we do that? The number of dating sites is overwhelming and when we browse them it’s difficult to decide who to “like” or “flirt” with. I’m sober (seven years) and bars make me uncomfortable. We’re not afraid of letting our “freak flag fly” but we don’t want to go around asking random people, “Hey, want a threesome?” There’s a lot of weirdos out there and we don’t want to get into a bad situation. We’re not interested in polyamory, we just want to find another person or couple that is respectful to have a play date (or two, whatever happens). We’re both heterosexual but bi-curious too. Do you have any advice?

—50 and Fabulous

Dear 50 and Fabulous,

Apps, swingers’ lifestyle events, and sex parties are indeed the main places couples meet new people for threesomes and foursomes. Sex parties almost always have liquor, and tend to result in a large amount of people being drunk—which, I’m guessing, is at least part of what makes you uneasy at bars. Broadly speaking, it’s uncomfortable, as I’m sure you know, to be the one sober person in a room full of others who are somewhere between tipsy and trashed.

One of the upsides of your RV living situation is mobility. Since you’re on the move, you might consider taking a turn toward a major city with a decently sized swinger community. These groups often have daytime events where you can meet people without the booze (and without the pressure of the sex room being right there). Do some digging online to search for them. That said, you might need to stay in town for more than a few days to arrange a meet-up for sex.

As far as the apps go, Feeld was quite intentionally made for this—it started out as 3nder, for couples seeking a third partner for sex—and you’ll still find couples who are looking to meet other couples, singles who are looking to meet couples, and, of course, lots of other people whose desires don’t line up with yours. Be upfront about the fact that you come as a pair, and link your individual profiles so people can see who both of you are. Be liberal with your swiping and liking—apps are a volume game—and quick to chat, but take your time and listen to your gut when you’re deciding whether to meet up, or to move to a private location. I hear that you want to avoid weirdos, but they’re part and parcel of people in general. You both may not be able to fully avoid finding yourselves in a bad situation and trying to figure out how to best extricate yourselves from it. You can mitigate the risks of this by keeping your logical brain engaged while you’re flirting, and by paying attention to how people respond to vulnerability and to boundaries during your conversations.

Lastly, if you go to their place or somewhere neutral like a hotel, keep your important belongings (shoes, pants, wallet, purse) in one place so you can quickly grab them if things get out of control.

—Jessica

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