Adulterers relax. This isn't about you. It's uglier than that. A couple of months ago, just before he turned 8, my boy and I attended something called a Father/Son Getaway. Any sane parent will tell you this is an oxymoron, that "weekend getaway" and offspring are conceits that automatically cancel each other out.
I did have a few breakups I would qualify with, "I don't mean 'I can't be bothered to figure out where things went wrong, I mean that she was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder," but for the most part, "crazy" meant "acting in a way I didn't like." I didn't realize just how damaging this attitude was in the way I related to women.
I am a queer woman. I flip-flop between identities. I have been "straight," then "bisexual," then "pansexual," then a weeping puddle in the middle of the floor (which has occurred frequently enough to be considered an identity, in my opinion). But I have figured out a few things (probably).
I am not the healer. But I can see the need for that masculine energy in their lives. Even in my own son's life. I see that he misses me.
As a sexual addiction and intimacy disorders specialist, I am often asked about the frequency of sex. Couples want to know what is "healthy." Usually, they're afraid they're either having way too much sex or not nearly enough.
All those open letters telling you how to talk to women better? Maybe we could take some time learning how to listen to your quiet, how to learn from being with you instead of throwing words at every problem.
For some blacks, admitting and confronting the fact that he or she suffers from mental illness makes them appear vulnerable. Denial is commonplace.
As I mature I'm finding manhood becomes more about having the presence of mind to express appreciation. Nothing deserves appreciation more than those you love. Sometimes, I'm even lucky enough to catch it on paper.
So far so good. He makes you smile. He turns you on. The banter is flirty, playful and just enough to make you bite your lip in anticipation. Then he probes: "What do you like?" or "How do you like it?"
Not everyone is destined to divorce, breakup and heartache. There are many who survive the ups and downs and continue to be happy where they are. Here are my tips on how to keep it fresh, exciting and without drama.
I'm a woman, so I can't pretend to know how men feel when their sex is disparaged, but I know if the talk from many NGOs and social businesses about males was said about females, I'd be annoyed.
If clients stopped requesting and otherwise seeking out destructive lawyers who are making a tremendous amount of money doing nothing but wreaking havoc and destroying families among other things, the supply of such lawyers would decrease.
It was the second time in a matter of weeks that I'd heard a woman open up about her relationship with her father.
Do me a favor. Will you? Take your stack of worn-out, tear-stained, dating advice books and throw them out. All they'll do is twist your thoughts, your judgments and your actions around like a tangled computer chord, leaving you acting like some kind of robotic monster who says and does things completely out of character.
Can we just do away with the dreaded 'friends with benefits' term altogether? I don't like what it implies: 1) That unless you're having sex with me, my friendship is benefit-free. 2) That a Justin Timberlake film bears some relevance to my dating life.
For all men out here, let's be clear -- yoga does not make you dainty or feminine. It makes you strong and durable. It provides you with a constant challenge to become a better form of yourself, day in and day out. It teaches you how to find comfort and contentment in some of the most uncomfortable situations.