My boyfriend sees sex as a competition he is losing. He feels like he doesn’t perform enough (he does) and worries he isn’t big enough (he is!).
He grew up without a father – the father’s fault – and I wonder if this has something to do with it. How can I assist him to see sex as non-competitive? I love him, and I find this self-loathing distressing.
Eleanor says: I assume he doesn’t think he’s losing the competition with you, somehow, but with imagined manly foes, comparisons, symbols of everything he (imagines he) isn’t?
Masculine adequacy, what a curse. It means every time you go to bed together it isn’t a moment between just you two. Also joining you: the fictional ideal of “male performance”, the version of himself he imagines he needs to be, and a fleet of imagined competitors. It can get so crowded in there, it’s hard to even see each other.
I want to wonder about something. Does reassuring him that he lives up to these standards ultimately leave him trapped within them? That is, does telling him he is man enough leave that as the standard to use?
In an ideal sexual utopia I feel like we’d get away from the notion of “man enough” altogether. You know and I know that it’s stupid propaganda from equally stupid porn and pop culture that good sex has to involve out-manning others with size and muscles and a grimly determined march to an orgasm.
It would be so much nicer if in place of sexual standards, like “big enough” or “performing enough”, we cared about things like “do I really know what my partner likes”, “do I make them feel totally free and irresistible”, “are we building something together, or am just I enacting a script”.
I wonder whether reassuring him that he meets his expectations for male sexuality nonetheless leaves him in a world where those are the most important things. After all, reassurance that you comply with standards doesn’t get you out from under them. You’re not a servant to a system any less when you’re in its good graces.
Admittedly, it’s tough to shepherd people away from these standards. Saying “it doesn’t matter whether you’re big enough” is a bit like saying “it doesn’t matter whether you’re beautiful”. Can’t expect your audience to be thrilled. The trick might be to communicate “you live up to these standards, but that other things matter more”, then help him see those other things.
For instance, does he know what you like? You, particularly, outside of his expectations of how sex in general should look? Could you get nitty gritty with the language, more than you’re comfortable with at first?
If you’re able to find and share a novel experience with him, something genuinely really exciting and pleasurable for you – and he’s got his head screwed on right – that could be much more exciting than fulfilling the docket of Abstract Ideal of Man Sex.
And as always, therapy works. Nobody would expect to be able to fix their stove on their own from first principles; we call an expert. But when it comes to problems like these – the ones that are hardest to identify, with the worst collateral for the people we love – we think, “I bet I can figure that one out on my own”. That’s no disrespect to your boyfriend; we all do it. But he doesn’t have to live like this; he can call an expert. Short of sex therapy, which can be expensive, there are plenty of books and other resources out there that can help debunk this kind of thinking.
Sex can be a moment to really see each other. We can’t do that so well when we’re looking through the thick lenses of false ideals about manhood. I wonder whether the best reassurance could be helping him take off those goggles.
This letter has been edited for clarity.
