Here I describe the average-case life trajectory of a very average young professional female in Manhattan.
September 21, 2009: Sarah’s 28. She double-majored in biology and history at Brown University, and now has a high five-figure job in advertising. Sex and the City inspired her to come to New York. She came to the city after graduating from college, and has lived here since. She’s attractive, intelligent, and sociable. She has a large number of friends, and she’s never alone on a Friday night. Finding men poses no challenge for her, but the right man seems out of reach. He has to (1) make more money than she does, (2) have a prestigious educational pedigree, (3) have important friends, (4) not be full of himself, (5) not be religious, but not too atheist either, and (6) be exceptional in the sack. Plenty of men are available to Sarah who meet criteria 1-3, but they tend to fail #4. Finance guys are usually boring douchebags. Consultants are never around. Doctors want to get married too soon. Men in real estate? Sarah’s sown a few wild oats, but she’s not that slutty.
Enter Aaron Wright. Mr. Wright is a 32-year-old (Michigan B.A. ’99, Harvard M.B.A. ’04) whose career in quantitative finance ended last year with the market crash. Laid off in March 2008, he spent the summer backpacking in Asia, returning in July 2008 to join a venture capital firm where a few of his friends went after B-school. He works only fifty hours per week, and loves his job. Six-foot-two, handsome, and outgoing, he can easily “work a room”. He projects social dominance when he needs it. Yet he never comes off as overbearing or arrogant, as years of traveling have lent him a genuine humility and sensitivity to the needs of others. His politics? Mostly libertarian, but politely liberal, he voted for Bush in 2000, Kerry in 2004, and Obama in 2008. (Although Sarah pretends to hate his decision to vote for Bush in 2000, there’s something about Republican heartlessness that she considers masculine– sexy, even.) Religion? With a Jewish mother and Episcopalian father, he was raised in two religious traditions. He now attends an upscale Episcopalian Church irregularly, but is mostly agnostic. Perfect, Sarah decides.
Sarah and Mr. Wright met through mutual friends, early in May. They became “exclusive” in July. It’s now September 21, and Sarah is pretty sure this man is “the one”. He has the ideal combination of “alpha” social presence and “beta” sensitivity. Only one thing is odd: they’ve grown very close, and Sarah slept in Mr. Wright’s apartment once, but they haven’t had sex yet. This fateful Monday, Sarah decides that it’s time. In the evening, she invites Aaron to her apartment, they drink some wine, and he opens up.
Mr. Wright: “I’d love to sleep with you, Sarah, but I have something to confess.”
Sarah: “What?”
Mr. Wright: “Well, I’ve been working very hard for most of my life, and haven’t always had time for relationships, so I’m not as experienced as you might think.”
Sarah: “You’re a virgin?”
Mr. Wright: “No, but I don’t believe in sex outside of a committed relationship, and I’ve only had two of those. So I haven’t had sex in three years, and I’ve only slept with two women.”
Sarah: “Oh…”
Sarah doesn’t know what to make of this. A 32-year-old with a “number” of two is practically a virgin, from her perspective. This sort of man would have been ideal, in her eyes, when she was 16. But she’s not 16 anymore and, having had casual sex a few times, she’s had to tell herself all the ridiculous lies that casual sexers tell themselves to feel better about their behavior– that chaste women are frigid prudes and that chaste men are socially inept and horrible in bed. Mr. Wright, noticing Sarah’s sudden discomfort, becomes slightly worried.
Mr. Wright: “How many men have you been with?”
Sarah is well-versed in how a woman “should” discuss her past if a potential husband asks. She subtracts all the one-night stands and regretted relationships from her actual number.
Sarah: “Oh, three or four.”
Mr. Wright: “Four, then? So only in relationships, I assume.”
She’s caught in a lie, and she knows it. (Author’s note: In real life, she might be able to hold the lie for months, or even years. I know that women aren’t actually this dumb.)
Sarah: “Well… okay, more than four.”
Mr. Wright: “How many? I won’t judge you.” (Author’s note: Riiight…)
Sarah’s full sexual history: 3 boyfriends from relationships lasting more than 6 months. Normal. No problem. She’s had flings, one of which was an earnest attempt at a relationship that nevertheless failed early and explosively, and two of which were rebound relationships with no intention of permanence. She broke off all of those flings, each in an extremely rude way. Then there are three one-night stands– her first sexual encounter, at 16, was with an unemployed man then twice her age; one was in college (sophomore year, early winter) with a frat boy; and the third was at age 26 during a grinding dry spell, when she was “too busy for relationships”. She’s never cheated, technically speaking, although her college one-nighter occurred two days after breaking up with a long-term boyfriend, and everyone found out about it. Her total number is 9.
Sarah does not consider herself a slut. Sluts, in her mind, are those actively seek casual sex, those who have it a lot more often than she does, and those who are proud and vocal about having casual sex. Sarah has a clear definition of a slut and, by her definition, she’s not one. (Author’s note: I tend to agree with Sarah: she’s not a slut. She’s a worse-than-average modern woman, but I wouldn’t describe her as a slut. She’s just badly behaved.)
Confronted with the revelation of Sarah’s past, Mr. Wright is taken aback. He has spent 32 years doing the right thing– studying hard, getting good grades, working late, refraining from excessive drug use– in order to achieve his ideal future. Believing his future wife would be displeased by a string of casual encounters, he also abstained from casual sex. At this moment, he remembers the darkest and most trying point of his life. It was in the small hours of January 21, 2000– his twenty-third birthday– when he nearly surrendered his goal of becoming a venture capitalist. He hated New York– a city with frigid winters, where he had no friends. He was less than a year out of college, and he loathed his job– he was an analyst at an investment bank; the work was boring and the hours were brutal. A virgin to this point, he questioned his decision to pursue academic excellence in lieu of college “fun”, i.e. binge drinking and the pursuit of women. This is what I worked my ass off for? THIS? Taking a 3:00 am cab ride out to Brooklyn after a 19-hour work day, he was pretty sure that in five hours, he’d be resigning from Wall Street forever. No more rat-race, no more half-dead cab rides through the black, polluted Manhattan air. The stark, lonely aura of the Financial District at night would become a distant, nostalgic memory. His parents would let him live at home and regain his bearings, so long as he did his share of the housework.
When Aaron arrived at his tiny Brooklyn loft, he felt queasy and weak, as if he had lost a fight. His muscles ached and he could feel his heartbeat, throbbing, on the inside of his left knee. As soon as he sat down on his couch, he crashed. He hadn’t set an alarm clock, but who cares about being on time for a job that one is about to quit? Nonetheless, he arose naturally at 7:20. The winter sun had barely risen, but the sky was the clearest he had ever seen it. Outside, it was certainly very cold, but at least it was beautiful. Aaron, a freshly 23-year-old nobody, brushed his teeth, skipped the shower, suited up and went to work. He felt a bit better, and was determined not to collapse entirely, not to flunk out of his job. He could resign from his analyst position, but implosion was not an option. His only motivation for enduring analyst hell was the two-year track to business school; he could take a less impressive job and a 3- or 4-year track. He decided to resign in a more measured and polite way. He collected his bonus on June 30, and tendered his resignation, effective August 15, the next day. He was let go immediately, but given an excellent reference. He used his bonus to travel for four months, returned to the United States, and took a programming job in Silicon Valley. (Author’s note: sorry for the “Aaron’s career” diversion– ’twas boring– but I can’t have a semi-sympathetic character spend two years in I-banking.)
That night in January, when Aaron nearly lost hope, could have derailed his career. It was the point where he stared into the hibernal abyss, and nothing but a few drifting snowflakes stared back. At the same moment, Sarah was in college. At a party. Getting split open by a beer-breathed fraternity brother.
Believing his future wife would be displeased by a string of casual encounters, he also abstained from casual sex.
A truly beta concern! First of all it’s none of her business, and second of all, if it’s a deal-breaker that you’ve had a bunch of flings, you’re better off without her anyway.
Sarah pretends to hate his decision to vote for Bush in 2000
Pah, if the guy voted for Kerry and Obama he’s a frigging liberal anyway, so what’s she complaining about?
There are few things more beta than concealing, or apologizing for, your opinions on politics, economics, or religion just because you’re afraid some female will be offended. Whenever my liberal girlfriends told me they were offended by some political opinion of mine, I just shrugged and said “oh well”. The madder they got, the better the sex afterwards.
“she’s had to tell herself all the ridiculous lies that casual sexers tell themselves to feel better about their behavior– that chaste women are frigid prudes and that chaste men are socially inept and horrible in bed.”
One of these is a lie. One is true way way way more often than it is false.
Which is which, in your opinion?
I don’t think most chaste women are prudes, and I think the statement about chaste men is often false. If a man has reached 25 and has never had a girlfriend, that’s a worrying indicator. On the other hand, if he has a normal relationship history but has only slept with one or two women, that’s not so bad.
The one about women is the lie.
The one about men is often false.
I can’t put myself in the role of all men but personally I’d never go more than a few months without sex if I had any choice in the matter. Unless you’re always in a relationship those numbers are going to add up. On the other hand, guys with lower sex drives can more easily do without. Lower sex drives come with lower testosterone and all that entails (i.e., a guy who is socially inept and bad in bed).
I see where you’re coming from, but I really don’t agree. I have a normal-high sex drive, and it sucks to do without. It really, really sucks. On the other hand, I’m future-oriented and consider a low number an asset to my future relationships. Virginity is overrated, but chastity (abstinence outside of loving relationships) is not.
I’d consider it unkind to my future wife to have cheap sex just because I don’t like going without. I wouldn’t want her to have done it. It’s the Golden Rule.
I think you’re making a mistake similar to the one women make when the go to grad school and pursue a career because they think it will make them more attractive to a man.
Women aren’t men. Women don’t put a high value in being with a man who has been with few other women. In fact, in practice they (even good girls) are intrigued and attracted to men who have been with many women.
I think that many “good girls” see an appeal in the promiscuous bad boy, having been misled by American culture into believing he can be “saved” when, in reality, that never works.
They’d rather marry someone similar to them, however.
I’ve had several girls get rather weirded out on me learning that, at the age of 27, I’ve only ever had one LTR. (I didn’t bring it up, they asked rather directly: “how many girlfriends have you had?”) In some cases, their reaction has been disbelief.
Now I don’t have a shortage of sexual partners compared to the “average” number, but all but that one have been one-night stands, and a one-night stand is certainly not a “girlfriend.” Nor would I count a girl who I went out with a few times but never had sex with a “girlfriend.” Nor an email penpal. Other than that one, every girl I’ve been involved with, it’s fizzled out in no more than about a month. (The one lasted a bit longer than a year and a half.)
So practically speaking, while I’ve had a decent number of sexual partners, I am definitely “inexperienced” overall.
Certainly not through lack of dates — I’m probably nearing 100 first dates at this point in my life. But like I’ve said — I’m now, bizarrely, the kind of guy who can get one-night stands but seemingly can’t get a relationship. Not remotely what you’d expect if you read a bio of me.
Yes. I’m familiar with this problem. I have one genuine LTR and two that I called “girlfriends” and made out with a few tens of times, but where the relationships died within the first couple of months. I just inflate the durations of those into the 4-5 month range (although I don’t inflate my sex-partner count). Both of those ended because of the other person’s misbehavior (one cheater, one flake). I don’t feel bad about this “deception”, because I’m only giving women what they want, and my lie isn’t something that would be upsetting for her to uncover one year down the road. (Lying about sex would be in that category for most people, inflating a 4-week relationship into 5 months is not.)
I feel comfortable counting as “girlfriends” women that I’ve had long-term intentions with, if the failure to reach long-term is her fault, and if there was some physical intimacy (a serious make-out). This gives me three or four although, in my heart, I’ve only had one girlfriend. I’ve only loved one person.
This is not that bizarre. In this ruined world, sex is so easy to get as to be cheap, but it’s nearly impossible to get a girl to take you seriously. They don’t even know how, because most of them don’t even take themselves seriously, although it may seem like they do. They’re just going through the motions, most women.
“I’ve had several girls get rather weirded out on me learning that, at the age of 27, I’ve only ever had one LTR.”
I was a little worried that my fiance has never had a LTR at the age of 25. But he’s amazing at being in a relationship. We never have fights. He is very honest and communicative, physically affectionate, and emotionally open.
Maturity is a gradual process. Both of us have had some serious depressive and suicidal tendencies in our teens and early 20s, and as little as two years ago neither of us was really ready for a healthy relationship. We are not completely “mature” now either, but we are a lot better than we were.
What weirds me out even more: I’ve had three one-night stands, all this year, with girls who, at the time I slept with them, I fully intended to continue seeing again. All three had their issues, but I certainly wasn’t going to break it off.
The first one — I tried to follow up, but her life was an absurd drama and she was completely flaky/unreliable. She also left town shortly thereafter… and is now dead.
The second one — I even went on another date with her afterwards. She told me that I was only one of 5 guys she was dating. She proceeded to ignore me for a few weeks and then sent me a text saying she had gotten involved with some other guy. Well, at least she had the class to say something and not just completely blow me off.
The third one — I went on a date with her afterwards and it was something of a flop. I think there was a mutual understanding at the end of that date that it was over.
I am aligned with you on that in terms of approach (or at least I was when I was your age 🙂 ), but I do think that it makes men who abstain relatively worse lovers. Experience matters in that regard. Now, some women will value the chaste aspect … but most don’t, as I think we both know.
Generalizations are fun, but it’s true that many women like different things.
Doing exactly what 50 women want does not mean that the one woman who is more “special” would necessarily like it.
For example being very rough. A lot of more club-going types of women love it. The “nice” girl is probably going to hate it.
My view of sexuality is that, while sex belongs only in a loving relationship, there’s a place for almost everything. Rough sex, gentle lovemaking, karezza, oral sex, bondage, dominance and submission (with both people taking each role)… all of those styles have a place. (I’d include anal as optional; I don’t think I’d ever want to do it, but I have no problem with those who enjoy it.) Constants from which there should be no deviation are love, respect, consent, and trust.
I agree with your point on the “special” woman, and this is my gut feeling as well. Obviously, most women look down on a chaste man, but I don’t give a fuck about “most women”. I want to find one really great one, and my gut feeling is that she will appreciate that I’ve behaved myself while young.
I think that most men can become a good lover for a specific woman pretty quickly, as long as the woman’s not ashamed to communicate what she wants. So experience doesn’t really matter, from a long-term perspective.
On the other hand, for first-time fireworks, the experienced man is almost certainly more likely to deliver, but I think that’s pretty overrated.
Meant to say the one about men is often true.
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