Newni sexs

18-Aug-2015 07:29

Few places are less conducive to erotic optimism than the packed waiting room of a public health clinic in Brooklyn. Though she had spent the ensuing months hooking up with various acquaintances, her hopes were set on long-term monogamy.Sitting on a hard plastic chair under a fluorescent buzz as an employee lectures on proper condom use—a catechism you know by heart yet sometimes fail to heed—you may conclude, as Emily Witt did, that the time has come to change your life. Just before Valentine’s Day, Witt had slept with a friend. A few weeks later, he called to report that he might have chlamydia. “I still envisioned my sexual experience eventually reaching a terminus, like a monorail gliding to a stop at Epcot Center,” Witt writes in “Future Sex” (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), her gutsy first book.She was raised by liberal boomer parents who came of age in the sixties.

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Marriage, for many, signals the start of a new life stage.

She was thirty, and depressed after a recent breakup.

Instead, she found herself enmeshed in “sexual relationships that I could not describe in language and that failed my moral ideals.” She didn’t have chlamydia, it turned out.

Monogamy, she felt, would be all the more satisfying for being obviously traditional, a path she could see as a “destiny rather than a choice.” She was tired of choosing. Without the pressure of emotional commitment, Witt was free to do what she liked sexually, but she had little use for a freedom she had already decided to give up.

Better, she thought, to fall in love with one person and have sex with him for the foreseeable future. Maybe the problem had to do with a failure of imagination.

Marriage, for many, signals the start of a new life stage.

She was thirty, and depressed after a recent breakup.

Instead, she found herself enmeshed in “sexual relationships that I could not describe in language and that failed my moral ideals.” She didn’t have chlamydia, it turned out.

Monogamy, she felt, would be all the more satisfying for being obviously traditional, a path she could see as a “destiny rather than a choice.” She was tired of choosing. Without the pressure of emotional commitment, Witt was free to do what she liked sexually, but she had little use for a freedom she had already decided to give up.

Better, she thought, to fall in love with one person and have sex with him for the foreseeable future. Maybe the problem had to do with a failure of imagination.

She began to see that she was living in a time of unprecedented erotic possibility, a sort of sexual future.