My Husband Is Experiencing Something New and Mysterious in Bed. The Aftermath Is Messy.

How to Do It Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by cagkansayin /Getty Images Plus. Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Jessica and Rich here. It’s anonymous! Dear How to Do It, For the past three months, my husband has been having wet dreams at least two to three times per week. The only time he doesn’t have one is on nights where we’ve had sex. Because of my work schedule, having sex with on a nightly basis isn’t an option (nor would I have the energy). Short of making him wear adult diapers on off nights, is there a solution to this problem? —The Sheets Have Been Through a Lot Dear The Sheets Have Been Through a Lot, You may not be available for sex every night, but your husband’s hand is. On the nights that you don’t have sex, he should masturbate and see if that has any impact on the wet dreams. If he’s not having them the nights that you have sex, which presumably involves him ejaculating, he should ejaculate via his own means as a first step. Failing that, a few other tactics to try include wearing heavier, more absorbent underwear to bed and potentially changing his sleep position. A 2012 study suggests an association between sleeping on one’s stomach and erotic dreams. Take it with a grain of salt (surely, it won’t be that way for everyone even if these findings were to be replicated, and I’m not sure that they have been, as it seems the same 2012 study is always cited when this subject comes up), but it’s worth a try if he’s a prone sleeper. As these wet dreams are happening more frequently in adulthood, this may have something to do with hormonal changes. It doesn’t necessarily signal a cause for concern, but just to be safe, I’d get my bloodwork done if I were him to see if his body is trying to tell him a bigger story. Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear How to Do It, My girlfriend cheated on me early in our relationship. Once I found out, she asked for forgiveness and asked to make things work. I appreciate that she has worked hard since then to earn back my trust, including giving me access to her phone messages and attending couples counseling. We’re approaching the two-year mark since I found out. But I’m convinced that she hasn’t told me the full truth about what happened. I don’t want to dig up the past and reopen old wounds, but I also can’t accept the idea that she has not been completely honest with me. I don’t want to live a lie. Is it OK for me to press her to divulge the truth, or should I let bygones be bygones? —Stuck in the Past Dear Stuck in the Past, What do you seek to gain in a complete reveal of the full truth behind the cheating? Right now, you’re stuck on the idea that you are missing the whole story. I understand how that could be distracting and something that feels as though it could and should be relieved by a more thorough telling. But what if the details you’re lacking further upset you? What if instead of relief, there is deeper pain? Your letter is too vague to convince me that you are living a lie. What I read is that you lack a complete list of details. Of course it’s possible that you are living a lie, and if so, it could absolutely be useful to clear the air. But I worry that what you’re looking for amounts to nitpicking and a completist desire for a full narrative just for the sake of it. If that’s what this is—and you have to search inside to know the difference—I think you’re better off not bringing this up. It really comes down to your intentions and the severity of what you suspect went on that hasn’t yet been revealed. If you can envision this information making a tangible difference on your conception of your relationship, it may be worth the risk. If you can’t, it may not be. Those old wounds may be worth leaving alone. Something very much in your favor here is that you’re going to counseling, or at least have and presumably can resume doing so. This would be a great conversation to have with the assistance of a counselor, who can help locate the importance and relevance of taking on this subject and steer the discussion in a useful direction. If you really need to press this, consider doing it with their help. Share Your Story With How to Do It! Readers often have great suggestions for our letter writers, occasionally disagree with a point our How to Do It writers make, or simply want to provide some additional advice. Each month, Jessica and Rich will be replying to some of these comments and suggestions from readers. Write to us! Dear How to Do It, I’m a 22-year-old woman who’s looking for hookups with strangers. Anything with strings attached is off the table because I’m moving to a different state in a few months, and I don’t want to deal with the possibility of meeting someone. The issue is that I have vaginismus, so I can’t have penetrative sex. So my question is, do you have any advice on how to deal with the weirdness of telling a complete stranger, “Hey, I really want to have sex with you, but you can’t put anything in my vagina because it ain’t gonna go through”? —Horny Brick Wall Dear Horny Brick Wall, First, get used to weird. Everything regarding sex could be viewed as “weird,” from the faces and sounds we make to the positions and contortions we find ourselves in. From our interests and kinks to the act itself (we put that? there??). It’s all kind of hilarious, goofy, and unserious while being very serious sometimes (which can underscore just how unserious it is). And if everything is weird, nothing is. I mean, sure, there is still some stuff that’s out there and not going to appeal to over 99 percent of the population, but ethical sex is all on a big spectrum, and there isn’t any right or wrong within the realm of consent. It’s just different. So yes, while most people you meet and approach for sex will probably assume that means that your vagina will get some use for mutual pleasure, it doesn’t have to if you set the boundaries upfront. Rather than leading with what you aren’t into, why not go first with what you are? Vaginismus is limiting but not entirely, so say what you’re looking for, whether it’s strictly oral, strictly performed on the other person (or mutually), just anal, only hand jobs/fingering/fisting, or whatever the specifics are. You can easily do this on apps where you can state in your profile what your interests are and are not. This may limit your potential partners, so get ready for it. It’s fine. Rejection is part of cruising, and the sooner you become accustomed to being rejected and not taking it personally, the better off you will be. Try to select typically sex-positive spaces to do your searching, if at all possible. People in those realms (say at a particularly sexuality-conscious sex party or on Feeld) tend to be more open-minded and more in tune with the idea that sex goes way, way beyond penis-in-vagina. And just for your own edification in case you haven’t sought it out already, there are treatments for vaginismus like pelvic floor physical therapy, dilators, and talk therapy. Sometimes these are performed in concert. Success will vary depending on the severity of your condition and your adherence to the treatment plan, and can take some time, but just know that you have options beyond accepting that your vagina is a no-entry zone for the rest of your life. You should pursue them if they seem feasible and attractive. —Rich More Advice From Slate I’m a straight, 24-year-old male who has never been able to orgasm. I have an otherwise healthy sex life and personal habits. I eat well, regularly exercise, and have even undergone blood testing to confirm that my testosterone levels were in a safe range (they came back somewhat above average)… Advice Sex