Abstinence Until Whenever
My girlfriend is sexy, funny, laid back, and we have so much in common she jokes that we’re really twins who were separated at birth. We like each other’s friends, our friends like each other–everyone agrees we’re a great match. But she wants to wait until we’re in love to have sex. I’m fine with this because we get each other off all the other ways. But I can’t tell the difference between love and lust anymore. And if I do decide I love her, how will I convince her I’m sincere and not just horny?
We’re not virgins, and she hasn’t had any majorly bad sexual experiences (that I know of).
Balls of a Certain Color
Does anybody have a list of email addresses for all the religious leaders and moralists out there preaching abstinence in order to avoid confusing lust with love? I’d like to forward your email to them, Balls, if you don’t mind. Meanwhile, as I savor this odd moment of being about to advise a man on how to get a woman into bed, because I’m impressed that you aren’t lying to get her into bed but perhaps also because it’s allergy season and my blood is sixty-percent anti-histamine, don’t mention sex to your girlfriend. Don’t allude to it, don’t watch sexy movies, don’t play Grand Theft Auto…. when fooling around, don’t pause mid-moan to ask her if you should put on a condom. Avoid the topic for a week or so, say the magic word after you’ve had at least one orgasm and she’s had a few, and you won’t sound horny. You will be, of course; the best you can do is believe you’re not. Similarly, the sex-talk moratorium may lead your girlfriend to blur love with the fear of losing you, but if she’s convinced, good enough. You didn’t ask me for a definition.
Hope it works out,
Honor Your Inner Bridezilla
I’m getting married in June and doing my utmost not to be a Bridezilla. My mother, however, is being a Motherzilla-of-the-Bride. We disagree on everything from the food to the flowers, and if I try to say anything her response is to remind me how much money she’s spending on everything. She’s spending so much because she’s inviting everybody she knows (and vice versa. Chicken and egg). My fiance and I would both be happier with a smaller affair, but I’m the youngest and the only girl, so whatever. I think I should be allowed some input because I agreed to let her invite so many guests in the first place, but the notion of me “letting her” do something won’t go over well, obviously. How can I phrase it better?
Daughter of the ‘Zilla
Don’t waste your breath arguing for your right to argue–just argue. By which I mean, if Mom’s a ‘Zilla, don’t fret about misogynist cable executives and their audience mocking you for ‘Zilling back. Basic self-assertion does not automatically equate with over-entitled behavior simply because the conflict pertains to the first day of the rest of your life, as a Disney princess or fashion magazine might put it. Seriously, we’re promised happily ever after a million different blatant and subtle ways beginning when we’re three, then society turns around and hassles us for caring about the bouquet? While a billion-dollar marriage industry grabbing for all our money at once tells us to match the bouquet to the chairs? And you thought my opening statement was confusing.
In reality (as opposed to reality TV) you lost this battle months ago when you didn’t press for the smaller shindig and offer to help pay. Revisiting that now will sound like a boycott threat; fight for your favorite color, though, and you’ll feel better about yourself, regardless of how you wind up feeling about your once-in-a-lifetime event. More importantly, you’ll be training for the future: your mother’s not going away, and if you plan on having kids, the Mommy industry–with its evil eye on repeat business–is closing in.
May the creators of Bridezillas raise true Bridezilla daughters and marry Bridezilla third wives.