The State of Affairs

Podcasting Infidelity: Episode One "I've Had Better"

No story of betrayal is simple.
Today, I take you behind the scenes of Episode #1 of my podcast, Where Should We Begin? The Episode is called "I’ve Had Better". It focuses on the story of Saskia and Amin*. They are a couple, married for 11 years with 3 young children. I met them one year after Saskia discovered Amin’s year-long affair with a co-worker.
If you’d like to listen to the episode, I’ve included a link as well as instructions on how to access it at the bottom.
When I sit with a couple, there are always two types of stories present in the room; the spoken and the unspoken. The first manifests in dialogue and what we can hear, see and feel. The second is what is unspoken — private personal dialogues, hidden assumptions, and covert motivations.
When a couple tells me the story of an affair, there are the facts, the details, the timeline, which make up the part of the iceberg protruding from the sea. But then there is the giant mass underneath the water that may not be as obvious. I have often likened couples therapy to sleuth work. During a session, I do my best to bring all these various narratives to the surface. I look for patterns. Since I am a newcomer to the couple’s unique dynamic, I try to see what they have lost sight of. There are many moments throughout a session when I must decide which issues to dig into and what direction to take the focus.

Affairs always cause pain, but what I’m looking for is where exactly did the knife twist?

For every deceived partner, there is a particular pain point that is unique to them. In the session, Saskia seemed numb and frozen – tears streamed down her face without her even knowing it. My challenge was to understand what was beyond the fortress of her silent pain. At first glance, one would say, “of course she’s been hurt, he cheated”. In one sense that’s true - an affair is a fundamental violation of trust. But the story doesn’t end there.
Saskia had a traumatic history in a politically turbulent country. Where she came from, women were attacked, raped, abused, and labeled “meat” by men because they could be used and discarded so easily.
She chose her husband Amin because he didn’t fit the profile of what she knew men to be. He was a good guy, with good values. She believed that she of all women had found a man who wouldn’t hurt her and could redeem her of her dim view of men. Amin, unknowingly, had been scripted into the role of the “golden apple”. But then Amin had an affair.
You will hear people say, “it’s not that you cheated, it’s that you lied”. For her, this complaint was expressed in sharp relief. By putting another woman ahead of her, Amin made her feel invisible. For Saskia, who viewed Amin as the one potential mate who would not violate this unwritten code, this was devastating. 
Likewise, Amin’s reasons for cheating were no less complicated than his wife’s feelings about betrayal. He talks openly of feeling lonely and abandoned by his wife. He says that a lack of communication and the years-long misunderstandings between them has pushed them apart, so he sought comfort elsewhere.
But he too has a piece of the iceberg that is not visible to me. Alongside his feelings of discontent, Amin had learned in his childhood to keep a part of himself secret. Amin, because of his upbringing, had mastered the art of the double life; compliant at home, and rebellious on the outside. This layer was helpful for me to place his actions in context — another piece of the story.

Having conversations they’ve never had before

Amin’s affair took place at the end of a long period of distancing for the couple, which accelerated after the births of their children. By the time Amin turned to another, the couple’s sex life was, in both of their recollections, “terrible”. More importantly, their communication had deteriorated. Their story was one of loneliness and their communication had become a race to the bottom.
Saskia and Amin had both been sexually unfulfilled for years. But post-affair, they were refreshingly honest about their sex life for the first time.
For many couples, a betrayal is the first time they talk about core issues in a relationship, during what I call the meaning-making phase. After the crisis phase has died down, they begin to try to figure out what went wrong.

Once trust is broken, can it be healed?

For many couples, infidelity isn’t the ultimate deal breaker. And whether or not infidelity ends the relationship, it acts as a powerful alarm system that often jolts a couple out of complacency and makes them realize what they stand to lose, or what they have already lost.
For Saskia and Amin, this session did not have a happy ending with the bow on top to match. However, they did begin to talk about topics and feelings that had laid dormant up to and in the wake of the affair. The road is not always a straight line.
*Names of podcast participants have been changed to preserve anonymity.
You can listen to Episode One of Where Should We Begin on Audible.com. 
Did you know I have a new book coming out about infidelity? The State of Affairs is the result of 8 years of working with couples and interviewing people from all around the world and in all walks of life and types of relationships. If you’ll help support me by pre-ordering this book, I’ll send you the Introduction, Chapter 1, and Writings from the clipping room floor before anyone else has access. Instructions on how to receive these materials can be found at this link.

While many people are living by the moving needle of reopening dates, hoping “to return to normal,” many others are reaching a critical realization: we’re not going back. 
And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. There were issues before, weren’t there? That version of life didn’t always feel great, did it? Many of us were in debt and depleted, if not financially, then spiritually. For the sake of future security, some of us were marching forward on a path that didn’t always align with our truest desires, and at times left us feeling more disconnected than ever. Now, with future security out the door, we’re realizing that the decisions we made were based on plans for a future that no longer exists. 

The New Normal is here and it requires a new mindset—a curiosity about what we want for ourselves, with our partners and families, with our dates and friends, and with our work lives. For individuals and couples who were already experiencing distance and misalignment, this redefinition of normal life can be an opportunity to rebuild, reprioritize, reconnect, fantasize, and even let go of some of the things that were holding us back long before the pandemic. ‍

What decisions does this new landscape require? What fantasies does it inspire? How do we talk about it? And how do we put those plans in action in a time when we’re either living with each other 24/7 like never before or living apart, in isolation, like never before?

Rebuilding Emotional Connections Requires Feeling it All

Nothing feels good about what we’ve lost—loved ones, jobs, human touch, safety, and the rites and rituals of graduations, birthday parties, weddings, and funerals which once served as life’s milestones. Misery is allowed, even encouraged. Feeling the contours of our grief has been paramount to confronting this surreal situation. The ambiguous loss, and other new pandemic-related emotions, run deep but they have a purpose. We’re in mourning for our old lives, our former sense of normalcy.

But these emotions signal that a change has happened and that we must change with it. Talk to your closest people about what those changes are and what they feel like. Share stories of difficult transitions from your pasts; doing so helps us ground each other in reality and triggers the emotional muscle memory of times when we’ve had to be strong and resilient before.

As psychologist Susan David has explained so well, difficult emotions experienced in an appropriate, healthy amount are a sign that you actually accept reality. Only then can you begin to use your skills in order to become creative about how to respond to a crisis that demands innovation. If you deny this reality—if you keep waiting for life to return to the way it was—you will be at a disadvantage for being able to emotionally and mentally handle this crisis. Those who can come together around the idea that we’re not going back to what once was have the opportunity to get a headstart into what will be. \

It may surprise you, but a great exercise to do with your loved ones, whether you are on top of each other or quarantined apart, is to complain your heart out. It’s a valve release for our feelings of loss and longing. Kvetching gives us a sense of control and camaraderie. Try it.

Staying Connected Now Means Balancing Fear and Hope

When you have complaints out of your system, you're ready to look at what’s on the other side of these collective losses that have piled up—the reorientation and restoration, the accommodation of loss and the hope for the future. Julia Samuel describes the importance of reexamining our grief, what she calls “living losses,” with our hope. “Hope is more than a feeling,” she says. “It’s a plan.” ‍

Take, for instance, the couple who have been dating long distance so they can prioritize their careers which happen to be in different cities. They thought it would be a year apart, tops, but it’s been several years now with no resolution of when and where they will live together again. Now, locked down in different cities, he can’t imagine living apart any longer. She, on the other hand, knows they’ve been avoiding a conversation about her crushing student loan debt and feels that their jobs still have to be the priority. Consider the couple who scheduled IVF treatments for June and now wonders if it’s safe to have the child they’ve always wanted when the world is in the throes of crisis. Or the man who, after a year of torturing himself with the difficult decision of whether to move his mother into a nursing home, signed the papers and began the process only for nursing homes to tragically become a high risk place for infection and death during the pandemic. He wonders now if she could come live with him and his partner, and if their relationship could survive it.

The Covid-19 pandemic, like so many crises, has acted as an accelerator for each of these situations, and there’s no easy solution. This is a moment in which the duality of fear and hope must be held with equanimity, thoughtfulness, and even humor and fantasy. It’s a time for laying the cards out on the table, and asking the following questions: 

• What do we really want? 
• Where do we want to be? 
• What do we want to build? 
• What’s a project we’d love to accomplish in the next year? 3 years? 5 years?
• For whom are we responsible? 
• To whom do we want to live close?
• What do we have going well for us? 
• What are our greatest challenges? 
• What do we have control over? 
• What do we have absolutely no control over? 
• Where do we need to fight? 
• What do we need to surrender? 
• What are our strengths and weaknesses individually and together?
• If we could be anything, go anywhere, and be happy, what would that look like? It might even be just a slightly better, more aligned version of where you already are.

How Erotic Thinking Helps Emotional Connections

Believe it or not, these questions are erotic in their very nature. They are about imagination, fantasy, exploration, curiosity, and navigating the trauma of this moment for the sake of cultivating pleasure. We know that some of the greatest pleasure comes from the deepest pain. How will you take the losses of this moment and transform them into possibilities? Let’s look at the couple quarantining apart again. 

They both need to answer the aforementioned set of questions individually before they can answer them together. Accessing their deepest desires, hopes, and fears in the context of our new normal may reveal new strategies for staying connected. She may present her student loan debt, in the context of our current economic uncertainty, as a reason for keeping her job exactly as it is and where it is. He may present his desire to be in the same place, and his lack of debt, as a reason for why he can be the one to relocate. Avoiding the conversation as a means of keeping the status quo—because the status quo feels like security—keeps them stuck in their pre-pandemic dilemma. But engaging in erotic thinking, submitting to their fantasies and desires, makes the challenging points loosen up. It breeds hope. Remember, hope is a feeling, but it’s also a plan. 

And this isn’t only for couples who are physically quarantined apart. How many of us have felt the internal quarantine—the separateness from our loved ones we feel when we can’t get aligned? If you’ve been struggling with this, the world has made it very clear that now is the time to reexamine your priorities. 

Reprioritize to Rebuild Emotional Connections

As counterintuitive as it may feel, from tragedy there can be opportunity. The loss of stability and security allows room for growth instead of staying put. The loss of plans is a chance to break patterns. It’s hard to see it this way, but doing so will help us navigate the New Normal. Even harder? Getting on the same page when no one—not even our leaders or greatest thinkers—seems to agree on the path ahead. We’ve spent our entire lives trying to control our forward motion only to now face a massive deviation that feels as if it’s forcing us sideways into the unknown. You can look at the unknown as a place of fear and loss. You can look at the unknown as a realm of possibility and progress. The reality is, it’s both.

The most common misconception about male vs. female sexuality is that men are creatures of nature, while women are creatures of meaning. Biology drives him. Emotions drive her.

But while we say women are so complex, we need to remember that men are not so simple. In my practice, I frequently hear stories from patients that indicate these gender myths make us lose sight of what is actually happening. 

Saddled with these narrow ideas of sexuality, we suffer through unfulfilled sexual and emotional needs. And our relationships pay the price. 
So let's explore some ways that this common script can be turned on its head.

Male Sexuality Can Be Relational -- and Emotional

A major unknown of male sexuality is how relationally-driven it really is. Men hold hidden stories that they often don’t share with anyone. Even themselves. This is as true in sex -- where we expect men to be driven -- as it is in men’s emotional lives. Perhaps even more true in the arena of sex because of the age old concept of what it means to be "a real man." 

Fear of rejection, performance anxiety, guilt, shame, insecurity, and depression -- all these are internal states that greatly influence a man’s feeling about himself and his self-esteem. They seep directly into his sexual self, his desires, and fantasies. And they determine his sense of entitlement and deprivation. This makes male sexuality very emotional.

Male sexuality is about how the man feels about himself in view of the other. This explains why so many men would rather not be with a partner. It is easier to be alone than to feel the pain associated with “measuring up” -- or the anxiety of failing to. 

I often hear men say that nothing turns them on more than to see their partner (male or female) turned on. Women who come into my office rarely express the same sentiment. 

In being turned on by seeing their partners "into it", these men reveal some important features of themselves. They reveal their generosity, their care for the pleasure of their partner. 

I've often found that this pleasure is important to men because it confirms that he is not being predatory. In his partner's blissful face, he knows that he is not hurting, he is pleasing. 

As such, men are dependent on their partners for reaffirmation and proof that they are kind and loving men. It is another way of looking at what the reality is of being a "real man". And it is highly relational. 

Female Sexuality Can Be Narcissistic (in a Good Way) 

In contrast to what I hear from my male patients, many women tell me they’re animated by being the turn on. Her flicker comes from inside, not from the other, and if she is not into it, nothing will happen. 

The unspoken truth about women’s sexuality is how narcissistic it can be -- in the best of ways. The female's ability to focus on herself is the pathway to erotic pleasure. 
By channeling an internal focus, women are freed from their social roles, which often revolve around tending to the needs of others. In that freedom from care and attention to the well-being of others, they are able to find space to experience pleasure.

Female sexuality is widely believed to be rooted in commitment, but that is not always true. If it were, sex would thrive in loving, committed relationships. We know the opposite is often the case - desire flags once commitment sets in. We also know that women lose interest first - after a shorter amount of time, and rather precipitously. 

But If That Is The Myth, Then What Is The Reality? 

The reality is that sexual yearnings of partners are often divergent. 

I can’t tell you how many desperate husbands have shown up in my office with a reluctant wife in tow, telling me that they are tired of the nightly rejections. “She’s obsessed with the kids,” they tell me. “She’s tired every night. No matter how much I try to help out around the house or encourage her to take a break, I can’t get lucky. She’s just not interested in sex anymore.” Often the wives agree, telling me they don’t really care if they never have sex again. 

Couples like this one are in a bind that twists deep below the surface. It’s not that the woman is less interested in sex or the man is always up for it. Rather, the woman is less interested in the sex she can have, while the man is seeking connection through sex with an uninterested partner.

What couples need to understand

1. For women, lack of sexual interest should not be unequivocally associated with a weaker sex drive. Instead, it helps to acknowledge that female sexual desire is a drive that needs ongoing engagement. It needs to be stoked intensely and imaginatively throughout the years. 
2. Male desire needs to be looked at through a lens that incorporates relational and emotional factors. Sex is the language through which men have license to ask for love, tenderness, surrender, sensuality, affection and more. Often sex is the only keyhole he has to fulfill these emotional needs. 
3. For both: sex is never just sex. Even if it is a hit and run. It takes a lot of emotion to make sex emotionless. 
   And for therapists, this conversation is just getting started. 

I have just returned from a trip to Cuba with my family. It was partly vacation and partly work. As Cuba reinvents itself after 60 years of socialism and teeters on a precipice about to plunge headlong into capitalism, I noticed some interesting contrasts between their culture and the US. 
I don’t want to sentimentalize the Castro regime and all that has happened in the past but much of what I saw spoke directly to my work with relationships.
Here are a few observations about Cuba that we can learn from:
I

nstant Gratification vs. Emotional Depth
I live in New York City where the corner deli, Amazon Prime Now, Uber Eats, etc. can deliver every desire, at any hour of the day. The consumer culture of the West is intensely focused on immediate gratification, on achieving, on owning things.
In our atomized and digitalized society, when we want something (or someone) it appears before us in an instant – often for purchase on a screen.
But Cuban society has existed for over half a century without advertisements, internet connectivity, and without instant gratification, which has created an environment in which people develop sophisticated social and emotional intelligence.
‍

Cultivating Inner Joy
When you watch Cubans move down the street, you can see they have cultivated what Chen Lizra eloquently describes as “sabrosura” – an inner joy. In the US we are constantly bombarded with ads while Cubans, on the other hand, were bombarded with indoctrination. No signs of Apple, Gap, or Pepsi, instead, endless slogans about the revolution, and pictures of Che and Fidel.
It’s interesting to note that we think of the messages Cubans received as propaganda and our blinking billboards as the glorious free market. This lack of advertising in Cuba has changed the way people move and interact. Women in particular, in Cuba, have not had to measure themselves by exacting standards of beauty – so when they sashay down the street, it’s not the size of their backside that matters but their inner radiance.
‍

Human Connection is Powerful and Unavoidable
I went to a party with over 300 people in Cuba – as we moved through the energetic crowd, the people around us were looking at each other, talking to each other, dancing with each other.
My son and his friend who are in their 20s immediately turned to me and commented that – unlike their friends at a party – no one was tethered to their phones. It struck me that even though we live in a digitalized world where our screens are glued to our hands, human connection is all-powerful: at some essential level, we still need to meet someone, to talk to them, to interact, especially in order to seduce them. And the fact that dating is not a second job, but a game of intrigue, surprise, and playfulness – swiping has turned the intrigue of meeting people into bored shopping for humans.
In Cuba, they are doing this the way we were 15 years ago – as they gather in the streets and stroll the malecón – and because of that, they have more finely tuned social skills.
If we see Cuba as a representation of our essential human need for connection, it’s clear that loving and leaving someone still happens in person.
‍

Sexuality is Self-Expression
In a totalitarian regime like Cuba, where historically the state controlled people’s lives, partners, sex, and marriage have become major areas of individual expression and autonomy.
That is why I found that discussions around sexual infidelity were far less taboo on the latin island. Infidelity is one of the few areas of individual freedom; transgressing in this way is not controversial.
Notably, Cuba also has one of the highest divorce rates in Latin America. Why is that so? It’s simple to get married, and equally simple to divorce. In a society where no one accrues wealth or owns property or things, it’s much easier to separate – there is no division of belongings.
In a similar system, in the Soviet Union, women initiated 97% of divorces.
In Cuba, marital relationships emphasize emotional fulfillment and there is barely any economic reliance. “If one is not met emotionally, why be married?” explained one of the local female psychologist. Without the need for another’s economic support, why stay and continue doing their dirty laundry?
Have you traveled to Cuba? Or do you have thoughts about what relationships were like before social media and smartphones? Let me know your thoughts via social media by tagging me with your thoughts on Twitter or Facebook. 

“Ticks all the boxes” 
“Perfect on paper” 
“That’s a dealbreaker”
“They’re a ten but…” 
“Not a good fit”
“If they’re not X, Y, and Z, why would I change my life to incorporate them?”

‍If you haven’t said one of these phrases yourself, you’ve probably heard one from a friend. Over dinner or drinks, you’ve likely dissected a recent first date or new relationship, contemplating whether this one will move “to the next level.” Having a checklist can help make those determinations, but it can also become a misguided map. 

Loosely followed, relationship checklists can create clarity and foundation for transparent communication. All too often, however, relationship checklists have a flavor of “performance review.” When we’re going down the list, it’s usually to figure out if we want to “promote” the person to a more serious position in our lives.

Will you see them for a second date? Do they fit into your world? Your career? Your family? Your dreams? Do they seem trustworthy? Are they worth exclusivity? These checklists ooze with pragmatism. Don’t you want a little poetry?

Beneath the Surface of Relationship Checklists

Relationship checklists usually start at the surface (think: tall, dark, and handsome), but underneath the superficiality, there’s a deeper layer that hopes to avoid disappointment and dysfunction. 

The young careerist wants a partner who values independence so that she can keep her own. The recently divorced person now knows what they will and will not tolerate. The person whose last relationship was a sexless desert now seeks sexual compatibility. Relationship checklists run the gamut from “I want a partner who makes me laugh” to “I want someone who knows how to be tough and tender in the bedroom” to “I can’t be with someone who wants kids.”‍

‍It’s fantastic to know what you want. It’s important to communicate your desires and values. But there are major downsides to being overly reliant on your relationship checklist. By the time you get to the bottom of it, you may have put yourself in a box and boxed the other person out. 

In this box, there is no room for another person to reveal themselves to you with their own needs and wants. There is no room for surprise or playful tension. We miss opportunities for learning how to tolerate differences or disagreements, key features of any mature relationship. 

Let Your Relationship Checklists Evolve

It’s bad enough to have a series of dates with an endless parade of people who “don’t fit.” But what’s worse is convincing yourself that your rigid expectations are an appropriate guide to future happiness. They’re not. And they leave us unprepared to handle conflict and challenges.‍

‍Anyone who has been in a long term relationship can tell you that relationship checklists evolve over time. Sometimes the very things we wanted in the beginning are the things that drive us nuts later on. Sometimes what once gave us the ick becomes endearing. We must give each other the benefit of the doubt enough to be able to enjoy how we will grow over time. 

‍A hyper-organized person may love how their spontaneous partner made them feel more daring when they were dating but can’t stand how their partner still struggles to make concrete plans. ‍

‍An extrovert who charmed an introvert at a party has found, after a few months of dating, they actually enjoy a quiet night at home. ‍

‍The twenty-something who looked down on a date for living with their parents later on feels immensely grateful that the money saved went toward a down payment on a house together. ‍

‍Knowing what we want isn’t the same as living it. ‍

Forget a Perfect Fit. Find Complementarity Instead.

‍In relationships, there is no such thing as a perfect fit. Instead, look for how you fit together, where you fill each other's gaps. Find complementarity. Partnership is about navigating inevitably contrasting desires, wants, needs, and rhythms. Aligning on values is essential, but from there, find joy in the friction of growing together.‍

‍It can be scary to let go, to loosen our grip on our relationship checklist. But holding tight to dos, don’ts, and dealbreakers only guarantees pain between partners. We hope that we won’t get hurt again like in the last relationship. We hope our partner will help soothe our pain from childhood. We hope to experience validation that we do not feel at work. But none of this is promised. An ideal relationship is not something our partner owes us; it’s something we build together.

Shall We Begin?

Most Sunday afternoons, my parents would play cards with their friends. They’d catch up, reminisce, and ask whatever happened to so and so? Shuffling the deck and picking their teeth, they’d go down the list of which people they had lost in what concentration camps. It was so normal, they may as well have been talking about the weather. Death was implicit in these casual conversations, but it was never the focus. They were so busy re-learning how to be alive and how to forge ahead that talking about the end of life felt taboo. Death cast a long shadow but the very fact that they were living meant that they could outrun it. 

My parents were determined to enjoy life as more than survivors. For them, there was a difference between “not being dead” and “being alive.” Today, it is clear to me that my interest in eroticism—that quality of vibrancy and vitality that beats back deadness—came from that distinction. But it is also clear to me that our avoidance of explicitly talking about death left us utterly unprepared for the event itself. Even now, as I think about grief in the context of this year’s insurmountable losses, I wish I would have asked my parents how they wanted to go and what they thought about how they had lived. Back then, I thought that talking about death was intrusive and, superstitiously, I feared that it would make it come sooner. 

When I gave my TED Talk, in 2015, I met fellow presenter Dr. BJ Miller, a palliative care physician whose near-death experience radically changed his view of death. In his talk, BJ articulated how staring at our own mortality or that of our loved one can feel unbearable and yet we must confront it. Doing so, he explained, means placing a greater emphasis on treating people rather than treating illness. It also requires directness. He spoke of a patient at the end of life named Frank who, rather than avoiding the tough conversations, actively engaged in them to “keep up with his losses as they rolled in so that he [was] ready to take in the next moment.”

This was an unfamiliar concept to me. I was raised to compartmentalize and schedule grief into annual religious and spiritual rituals. We complained to blow off steam, but any suffering too heavy to hold on a daily basis was reserved for high holidays. BJ’s words made me wonder about grieving in real time. And ever since then, death has seemed to follow me. ‍

Key people, such Sierra Campbell at Nuture.co, Dr. Jordana Jacobs, and Frank Ostaseski, the founding director of the Zen Hospice Project, came into my life in moments when I was ready to go deeper into the subject of death. In 2017 and 2018, the temple at Burning Man provided me with an immersive, secular ritual of remembrance I’d never known was possible. By day seven, the once empty temple formed a living memorial. In pictures, poems, objects, artwork, and other shreds of lives gone, thousands of people responded to their individual loss and our collective impermanence. I saw the entire drama of human experience laid bare and then burned away. 

At End Well, a symposium that unites design, technology, health, policy, and activism to transform thinking around the end of life, I saw another new communal approach to dealing with death. Seeing openness and innovation around such a taboo topic reminded me of how I had felt at my first sexual therapy conference. It was permission to bring the conversation into my professional and personal life. And so I did. A few months later, at a dinner party in Los Angeles, I asked my companions about their experiences with death. The answers were remarkable and I left that evening thinking of all of the future dinner parties I would have where we might talk about death again. I got on a plane home to New York and, within two days, the city went into Covid-19 lockdown. We hadn’t realized at dinner that night how real and immediate the topic would soon become. And I didn’t realize when I came home that night, that I wouldn't be leaving for a very long time. 

In March, as New York became the epicenter of the pandemic in the U.S., I realized that the topic I had once avoided—only to become somewhat obsessed with it later in life—was now the most important conversation I needed to have with my family. We needed to talk about death. Over the last few months, we’ve been working with Sierra Campbell to turn the anxiety of “what will we do if” into a plan. Via video call, my husband and I meet with our sons and Sierra. Instead of the usual check in, we talk about checking out. Organization can be a balm in the midst of a chaotic time, and as I hear my family responding to Sierra’s questions, I realize that I am discovering a new tangent in the erotic equation. Talking about death is talking about life—hopes, fears, uncertainty, imagination, legacy, connection, responsibility, love.‍

I wish I could have had the conversations my sons are having with me now with my own parents. But I am thankful for the conversations we did have, which were emblematic of the way people often confront taboos—through humor. I remember the day my parents came home beaming with joy and said “this is a great day. We bought our plots.” I wondered how anyone could be happy about buying their own burial ground. And then I realized: their families perished in smoke. But they would have a final resting place to call their own, where we could visit them whenever we wanted. That was something to celebrate. Plus, as my mother proudly exclaimed, they had nabbed two of the best plots in the whole cemetery. And you just can’t beat good real estate.

Let’s Turn the Lens on You

Sierra Campbell includes these questions in her crucial conversations about death. They can be asked at any stage of life.

• What are the best and worst case end of life scenarios for myself?
• What am I doing today, in my life, to support best case scenarios?
• What are my views of caregiving? 
• Have I ever been a caregiver? 
• Has anyone ever really taken care of me? 
• How does caregiving impact me, my family, and loved ones? 

Let's continue the conversation.

Watch the replay of the Letters From Esther Workshop: What Death Can Teach Us About Life.

More From Esther

Forbidden Conversations / A multidisciplinary training event
Join Esther this November for a three-part digital multidisciplinary training event. Together we’ll explore the concept of taboo and key topics rife with taboos - death, sex, and money - in order to help our communities ask the questions they wouldn't dare to ask, but which are often the most important questions. ‍

Arguing About Money Again? Understanding Financial Tension in Relationships / a recent blog 
Talking about money is no easy feat. But, it is an opportunity to understand the deeper beliefs and vulnerabilities it represents in your relationships and to grow your partnerships. Read more about why tensions in your relationship arise around finances and the money questions you can ask to start an open conversation.‍

Why Do Sexual Taboos Make Up Our Sexual Fantasies? / a recent blog 
Our sexual fantasies, and the taboos they contain, are symbolic maps of our deepest needs and wishes. Accessing that vulnerability can turn our sex lives from a ledger into something so much greater, but getting there is a taboo in and of itself. It means talking about it. Read more about sexual fantasies and how they're more normal than you may think.

Conversation Starters

A compendium of highly recommended sources of inspiration and information       ‍

On Death:

• Dr. BJ Miller’s TED Talk “What Really Matters at the End of Life”
• Sierra Campbell’s Nurture.Co resources
• “"Til Death do us Part: An Exploration of the Relationship Between Love and Death" by Dr. Jordana Jacobs
• “Tomorrow is Promised to No One: What Death Can Teach Us About Love,” a talk by Dr. Jordana Jacobs
• “The Five Invitations,” a book by Frank Ostaseski
• “The Beauty of What Remains: How Our Greatest Fear Becomes Our Greatest Gift” by Steve Leder, out this January
• Maria Popova’s article “How to Live with Death” (BrainPickings.com)‍

I’m Reading/Watching:

• “No Shame: Real Talk with Your Kids About Sex, Self-Confidence and Healthy Relationships,” a new book by Dr. Lea Lis
• “The Vow,” a new documentary series that takes an inside look at the sex cult NXIVM
• “7 Deaths of Maria Callas,” an opera project by Marina Abramovic 
• “The Social Dilemma,” a new film about the hidden machinations behind social media and search platforms

Shall We Begin?

We’re crawling to the finish line of a long election season while simultaneously reaching a record peak of Covid-19 cases in America. It’s a moment of deep division—of red and blue, black and white, rich and poor, mask and no mask. The pandemic has further laid bare how deeply social, racial, cultural, and economic differences impact how we live as well as how we die. There was a time, not long ago, when we said “we’re all in this together,” evidently, the stark reality is that “together” did not mean “equally.” It also didn’t mean “in agreement.” 

There is one topic, however, on which everyone can find some common ground: we are all very, deeply stressed out. In July, The American Psychological Association’s monthly pulse check* of American’s stress levels found that “most adults from both parties say the current amount of uncertainty in our nation causes them stress (76% Democrats, 67% Republicans).” Furthermore, widespread Covid-19 specific stress is so prevalent, a team of researchers has already developed and validated “the COVID Stress Scales, comprising 36 items on 5 scales” to better understand and assess pandemic-related distress.**

Stress, it seems, is the United States’ uniting factor at present—and it’s compounded by trauma, as the ACE Study demonstrates.* Stress is a byproduct of change, and change challenges our illusion of control. Months of prolonged uncertainty, death, grief, revolution, dislocation, job loss, homeschooling, and loneliness would have been enough to make that so, but the political climate has upped American’s stress levels regardless of party affiliation.** The APA’s study found that 77% of Democrats and 62% of Republicans cite the current political climate as a significant source of stress in their life. 

*The goal around stress now is twofold: regulation and maintenance. We must regulate our stress for the sake of our health (and that of our loved ones who feel its effects). But we also must maintain our stress. These are difficult times. It’s rational and justified to be stressed in response to the events of this year, and we will continue to be in situations that incite stress for the foreseeable future. Regulation of stress is about radical self-care. Maintenance of stress is about putting that stress to good use for the causes that matter most to us without burning out. *‍

One major complicating factor is that healthy regulation and maintenance of our stress requires boundary-setting. And that’s difficult to do when calcification around party lines has entered our homes. It can feel near-impossible to reconcile our joy for how dad plays with the kids with our dread over the guns he has in his basement. We know our in-laws love us just as much as we know they would never forgive us if they found out we terminated our pregnancy. We want to congratulate our friend on the birth of her child, but we can’t get over the social media post she made about the pandemic being a hoax. 

A part of us wants to engage, to try to have peaceful, low-stress dialogue instead of a conversation characterized by mistrust, judgement, incredulity, even rage. But we wonder: How can they hold such views and be so unbending, especially when they threaten everything we value most? Don’t they know better? What’s wrong with them? Don’t be mistaken; they feel exactly the same way about us. ‍

I know this scenario well. Growing up, I spent many nights in political screaming matches with my parents and they rarely led to a less stressful evening. And this is a common dynamic I see when families come to my office struggling with affective polarization. When we are polarized, we tend to see ourselves and our views as a rainbow of colors while we see the other and their views in black and white. We attribute complexity to our own arguments while simplifying theirs. We are quick to load up the other with all kinds of negative attributions. And they are quick to reciprocate. 

Right now, we’re not likely to change each other's minds. All we can do is manage ourselves. We will all need a lot of mental agility, greater than what’s already been necessary, to regulate and maintain our stress levels in the coming days, weeks, and months. 

Let’s Turn the Lens on You

Help Regulate Your Stress‍

• ‍Check your perception. According to “The Perception Gap” study, “Americans have a deeply distorted understanding of each other… Overall, Democrats and Republicans imagine almost twice as many of their political opponents as reality hold views they consider “extreme.” When you see an opening, keep the dialogue and counter the dehumanization of the other. 
• ‍Take a social media break. “More in Common,” the collective behind “The Perception Gap” study, credits social media as part of the reason we have difficulty connecting with people outside of our bubbles.
• ‍Get Grounded. Close your eyes and tune in to where your body touches the ground. Acknowledge the solid, stable earth beneath you. Allow yourself to feel supported. Breathe.
• Beyond breathing practices; do deep body exercises. Try self-soothing with self-touch.
• ‍Do a walk and talk. Calling a friend while on a long walk allows two people to be in their own worlds and together. In our socially distanced times, this movement is good for our bodies and our friendships.
• ‍Set Boundaries. There is no need to compromise our psychological or physical health and safety for people who will not respect our boundaries, especially now. Lay out your rules and stick to them. You are allowed to step away from a relationship. If they’re a real friend, they’ll understand.
• ‍Cultivate Hope. As Kathleen M. Pike, PhD notes, “Hope impacts virtually all dimensions of life, including academic outcomes, athletic performance, health prognosis, and resilience.”

More From Esther

What Death Can Teach Us About Life / a recent newsletter and workshop
In October’s newsletter and workshop, we explored how talking about death is really talking about life—hopes, fears, uncertainty, imagination, legacy, connection, responsibility, love. ‍

What Is This Feeling? Anticipatory Grief and Other Pandemic-Related Emotions / a recent blog 
The pandemic has left us with a set of unfamiliar emotions. Read more to learn about the new emotions you may be experiencing and what to do about them.

Conversation Starters

A compendium of highly recommended sources of inspiration and information  

I'm Reading: 

• *The American Psychological Association’s “Stress in America 2020” study. 
• ‍“Development and initial validation of the COVID Stress Scales” (Journal of Anxiety Disorders)-⠀*The ACE Study
• “Crowds and Power” by Elias Canetti, among my formative books in college 
• 22 Questions that ‘Complicate the Narrative’ (Solutions Journalism)
• “We Are Not As Polarized As We Think” by Daniel Stid (The Art of Association)
• The Perception Gap Study ‍

I’m Watching:

• Bill Doherty on Becoming a "Citizen Therapist" (Psychotherapy Networker)
• Psychologist Jonathan Haidt’s TED Talk “The Moral Roots of Liberals and Conservatives”
• “Totally Under Control,” a documentary by Alex Gibney
• “On the Rocks,” a film by Sofia Coppola
• “The Wonders,” a film by Alice Rohrwacher
• “Move,” a documentary about the lives of dancers

Shall We Begin?

‍

When I am busy, the thing I miss most is reading. Over the last few years, there have been times when I’ve had to stop myself and realize: I’ve been reading scores of headlines, hundreds of posts, but I have a backlog of unfinished articles and books. 

Taking in snippets of current events this way has a corrosive effect on the mind. The inundation of clipped information without context is overwhelming. The avalanche of epithets leaves you emotionally spinning. You think you’re in the loop; you know what’s going on; you’re up-to-date. But you begin to realize: you’re not actually processing the information. And that information—particularly the kind that is shocking and soul-crushing—doesn’t leave your system as quickly as it entered in the form of headlines, tweets, and memes. 

The information sits in your body: a rock on your heart, a pit in your stomach. It scratches at your insides. We are living through an era in which we’ve been convinced that the way to metabolize such dizzying informational and emotional overload is to take a position and make a post online. We don’t know how much it’s helping those most in need. We do know it’s not helping us process the confounding pain of our world and it seems to be further alienating us from each other. 

So many people are using their platforms, however big or small, to comment on the war in Israel and Gaza in the best way they know how. I am trying to do my best, too, alongside other efforts. I’m not sure I’m succeeding. I have to remind myself that social media wasn’t built for navigating intractable conflicts. It wasn’t built for long conversations of compassion and nuance. 

It feels virtually impossible to hold more than one truth, but it’s what I feel compelled to do. I’ve received many positive responses that confirm I am helping. But I have also received condemnation from people on all sides (and, yes, there are far more than two sides). Last week, I got two nearly identical messages, from people with opposing views: “Shame on you. I’m sure your holocaust survivor parents are ashamed.” It seems they found one thing they could agree on: to “unfollow” me. Honestly, I felt where each of them were coming from and the pain that was screaming behind the rage. 

This conflict is close to home for me in many ways as I know it is for many of you. We are all trying to process this on a multiplicity of vectors. There’s the visceral: the grief, the loss, the rage, the violence, the deaths, the parents, the children, the horror, the videos. There’s the global proliferation of both Antisemitism and Islamophobia. And there’s the relational: the how could yous and the how could you nots. 

Sure, there are acquaintances and strangers unfollowing each other on social media, but there are also decades-long friendships falling apart. Families who will be grieving at the holidays may also find themselves fighting for their point of view. Is there a single person who doesn’t feel misunderstood at this moment? 

We are not meant to process conflict and trauma this way: in short bursts, in echo chambers, in the black holes of collapsed nuance. And so I must return to what I know will help me…and what will help me help others: Reading. 

Yes, I am reading the long articles of people who can help me orient myself. But more so, I am reading letters. with friends, family members, and strangers of all backgrounds. I’ve been reaching out to Israeli and Jewish friends from around the globe, Palestinian and Arab friends, and more. Their responses and our continued correspondence has been the most important reading I’ve done all year. In writing, on the phone, and during long walks, we are processing this together. But it’s the letters, in particular—just like this one—that give us space to hear and be heard. Despite all that is splitting us, we are trying to really see each other and connect through our humanity. We are trying to root ourselves in our relationships.

The reality of our situations is very different. Nonetheless, we talk about grief and how our feelings and opinions aren’t binary. We talk about trauma, crimes against humanity, the right to safety and dignity, and the urgent need for bilateral peace efforts. We talk about our loved ones, friends of friends, and strangers who are experiencing the hell of war on the ground—and how we are trying to help them. We are not turning away from this conflict, we are turning toward each other. As Peter Levine says, “Trauma is what we hold inside in the absence of an empathic witness.”

Let’s Turn the Lens on You 

• Try reaching out to someone in your life whom you know is close to this conflict, and not just those in your own tribe.
• You don’t need to make a point. Make a difference.
• Keep it general but heartfelt.
• “My friend, I have been thinking about you and wanted to affirm our connection. I’m checking in with you because this is close to you. There is so much to say about this war but, right now, I just want you to know that our friendship is important to me. If you ever want to correspond more about what is happening or how it is affecting your life, I am here.” 
• Release yourself of the expectation to get anything in return. This is a difficult time for so many and we are all processing it in our own way. 
• What matters is that you show you care.

More From Esther

• “Conflict Among Friends” / last month's newsletter

I often hear about situations in which one person, unable to air their grievances, has let a minor crack in a relationship metastasize into a web of fractures. The other person, inevitably, seems to be unaware of the impact of their behavior. Both are left flummoxed at how a misunderstanding or disagreement became a full-blown breakup or breakdown. Have you ever experienced this? Read on.

• “Fighting with your Partner about Values?” / a past newsletter

‍Modern romance doesn’t pay much attention to “values clarification” until there is a “values crisis.” But it doesn’t mean we have to stay in crisis mode. My advice to couples at a crossroads over issues rooted in values is this: step away from the content of the argument for a moment and consider the form. 

• “Six Essential Practices to Improve Listening Skills in Relationships”/ an article

Whether we are sharing a story, a grievance, a need, a want, or even a desire, nothing makes us feel more deeply connected than when we are engaged in a healthy balance of thoughtful speaking and hardcore listening. 

Conversation Starters

A compendium of highly recommended sources of inspiration and information

I’m Supporting: 

• “Sulha Peace Project was established in the year 2000 in the midst of the Second Intifada with the goal of creating eye-to-eye, heart-to-heart encounters between Palestinians and Israelis. We, at “Sulha Peace Project,” believe in the importance of authentic face-to-face meetings as both a condition and a basis for open dialogue and mutual partnership. Conflicts engender erasure of the human faces of the Other. We seek to strengthen humanity and restore the faces of the human beings that live on both sides of the conflict. Our Sulha gatherings focus on training people to listen and feel with our hearts – an ability that is necessary for any future solution to this conflict. We operate in Israel and the West Bank, on both sides of the separation barrier. “Sulha Peace Project” invites all people from all segments of the population to come and participate in our activities.
• “Standing Together is a grassroots movement mobilizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel in pursuit of peace, equality, and social and climate justice. While the minority who benefit from the status quo of occupation and economic inequality seek to keep us divided, we know that we — the majority — have far more in common than that which sets us apart. When we stand together, we are strong enough to fundamentally alter the existing socio-political reality. The future that we want — peace and independence for Israelis and Palestinians, full equality for all citizens, and true social, economic, and environmental justice — is possible. Because where there is struggle, there is hope.”

I’m Reading: 

• “A Therapist Who Puts Community at the Center of Healing Reflects on the Conflict in Israel and Gaza – and the Real Lessons of 9/11” by Rob Waters (MindSite News)
• “Complicating the Narratives” by Amanda Ripley (Solutions Journalism Network)
• “A Conflict Resolution Expert on Peace and the Israel-Hamas War” by Madison Minges (American University)

‍I’m Listening To: 

• "The Fragile Hope for Peace in Israel-Palestine"  (Plain English with Derek Thompson)
• "Why Does Social Media Weaponize our Reactions?" ‎(This Jungian Life Podcast with Aaron Balick)
• “Why Palestinians Feel They’ve Been ‘Duped’” (The Ezra Klein Show)
• “What Israelis Fear the World Does Not Understand” (The Ezra Klein Show)

My monthly newsletter and workshop is meant to inspire you to reflect, act, and develop greater confidence and relational intelligence in all of your relationships. This month's theme is: Risk.

Shall We Begin?

Hitchhiking may be the perfect opposite of pandemic behavior. I spent years on the roadside with my little sign asking to be driven across the world. In the 70s, it was a popular way to travel if you were young and broke. It’s how I first saw the United States at seventeen-years-old. My boyfriend and I flew to California from Brussels for a greyhound trip along the west coast, but by the end of the trip, we had barely used our passes, opting instead to stick out our thumbs and see where life would take us. 
We stayed with missionaries in Utah, hippies in a Colorado commune, and a single father in a trailer in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. We saw Los Angeles and New York City, and a suburb—for the first time—in West Orange, New Jersey. We lived by the kindness of strangers who would pick us up and sometimes invite us into their homes, showing us glimpses of lives we never knew existed. We were curious and open—and we took risks that my parents would prefer not to know. There were times it went south. But there were far more times when our tribulations yielded wonderful surprises. We took risks on strangers and they took risks on us foreigners.

I’ve been thinking about my hitchhiking adventures as I confront my re-entry anxieties. After a year of learning how to keep a constant six-foot radius around me, it’s hard to believe how much of my youth was spent sitting with strangers in small cars. I also used to walk on the streets of New York, looking attentively at strangers’ faces. Now, I put my head down and turn away if they get too close. I know I’m not the only one struggling with how to open back up to others even though it’s what I so desperately want. Restrictions are starting to loosen up here in the states. But after we’ve lived so long in a state of prolonged uncertainty, how are we meant to reconnect safely with the unknown in a way that invites excitement rather than fear? And how can we even feel excited when so much of the world is still grappling with the worst phases of this? 

Our collective trauma has left us with a deep mistrust—of the world, our institutions, our bodies, each other, and ourselves. Survivors' guilt can make it hard to allow ourselves to experience pleasure. Just like in relationships, when we’ve been hurt, blindsided, scared, or compromised, we might feel like we never want to love again. When we’ve experienced illness and death, we might feel like connection isn’t worth the eventual grief. When the world has become unsafe, we might struggle with the impulse to just stay inside of ourselves forever. How can we take calculated risks when we can’t trust anything? Or is it the act of risk-taking that allows us to develop trust? Trust researcher Rachel Botsman defines trust as a confident engagement with the unknown. Taking leaps of faith is how we open back up to the possibility that we can love again, be with people again, have fun again, be safe, and be healthy. 

Ultimately, taking calculated risks is about rebalancing our fundamental need for both security and freedom. It’s not the same as being reckless; we still have to follow protocol and keep each other safe. But after a year of prioritizing safety and security, it’s starting to pay off. We’re beginning to make out a vision of a near future of family gatherings, parties with friends, kissing on first dates, and being able to once again experience the kindness of strangers. Maybe one day, we’ll even be able to hitchhike again. Whether you find yourself desperate to be around people, wanting to keep the solitude you found this year, or somewhere in between, this new liminal phase is an opportunity. We find ourselves entering a period of risk assessment that, I hope, will help teach us how to build back trust in the world and with each other.

More From Esther

Rethinking Foreplay / a blog article
Foreplay is so much more than a quick warm up for the main event. Foreplay is the energy that runs through an entire relationship.‍

Security & Freedom / a newsletter
Because we desire the security of belonging—whether to a person, a job, or a community—and the freedom to explore other options, we often find ourselves acting out of our internal contradictions. In this newsletter, we explore how to find the balance.‍

How Erotic Thinking Helps Emotional Connection / a blog article
No matter how effective our routines have been in helping us through the last year, if they’re not filled with creativity, they inevitably leave us numb. 

Let's continue the conversation.

Watch the replay of the Letters From Esther Workshop: Risk-Taking and Trust.

Conversation Starters

A compendium of highly recommended sources of inspiration and information.  ‍

On My To Read List

• Justin Baldoni’s new book Man Enough: Undefining My Masculinity
• Jon Levy’s new book You're Invited: The Art and Science of Cultivating Influence
• Judith Ruskay Rabinor’s new book The Girl in the Red Boots: Making Peace with My Mother

I’m Watching 

• Berkun Oya and Ali Farkhonde’s series Ethos, streaming in the U.S. on Netflix.