My Priest Handed Me a Letter. What’s in There Has Left Me Shaken and Wracked With Guilt.

Dear Prudence Some of our favorite letters about love and sex, from (nearly) 30 years of Slate Advice. Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by DejanMilic/iStock/Getty Images Plus. Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. Slate advice was born in 1997, when Herbert Stein opined on the merits of a man opening the car door for his date. Stein, former chair of the Council of Economic Advisers under Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford, was the magazine’s inaugural Dear Prudence, and in his first column he counseled a letter writer who was anxious that the widespread presence of power locks on car doors had rendered chivalry obsolete. Stein advised that men should not worry about becoming obsolete: a power lock can click a door open, but a power lock won’t hold out its arm, and a power lock won’t kiss your date on the cheek! And so kicked off the tradition of Slate columnists digging into the love lives and relationships of the thousands of people who have trusted us with their heartaches, big and small. Between Dear Prudence and How to Do It, where Jessica Stoya and Rich Juzwiak have answered questions specifically about the X-rated matters of the heart since 2019, we have truly seen it all: from marital spats over airline upgrades, to twin brothers who fell in love, Advice letters offer a fascinating view into how other people’s minds work. To kick off celebrating Slate’s 30th anniversary, we’re sharing a few of our favorite letters about love and sex. We’ll have more special archival collections available over the next month, too—so, won’t you consider going steady with us? — Paola de Varona, senior editor, Advice Dear Prudence, My priest is leaving the priesthood because he’s fallen in love with me. I don’t know what to do. I’m not a religious person, but after my father died, I became close with the priest who provided his last rites and ministered to us during the funeral. Over the past year, we grew close, and I started to think of him as a good friend. Last week, he gave me a letter and asked me to read it when I got home. In it, he confessed his feelings for me, that he no longer felt like a father in the ecclesiastical sense, and that he wanted to be with me in Holy Matrimony. I am shaken, confused, and feeling guilty. He’s already begun the process of being laicized, but I don’t share his feelings. He was shattered when I told him, even though if we were just co-workers and good friends, I would date him. But he wants to get married. I feel like everything is so fast and there’s so much pressure on the relationship, I wish he would have talked to me before deciding to leave the clergy. But he explained he needed to be released from his vows, otherwise, it would be like cheating. What should I do? What if this doesn’t work out? Would it be crazy to get engaged right now? I never even thought of him romantically before, but I know I can grow to love him. —Thorn Birds Dear Thorn, Do a little exercise with me: Imagine if, at the end of your next dental appointment, after the friendly small talk and reminders to floss a little more, your hygienist told you he would like to marry you. You would say, “You’re out of your mind” and find a new provider. Right? You might even report him to some kind of professional body. That’s almost exactly what we’re dealing with here! Your “good friend” the priest simply has a job that is making this emotionally stunted and inappropriate gesture seem more complicated than it is. I also imagine the grand gesture of abandoning his post and deciding to change his entire life makes you feel so special that you might think you can’t pass this up. You can. The same thing the priest sees in you, other men (ideally, men who you have a romantic interest in!) will see too. You are under no obligation to accept a marriage proposal from someone you aren’t dating and don’t even want to be with like that!—Jenée Desmond-Harris From: Help! My Priest Told Me He’s Leaving His Priesthood for Me. (August 21, 2023). 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 Prudence, This question is about the etiquette of having a love affair with a macroeconomist. He’s 15 years older than me and a former colleague. I have an iron-clad rule about colleagues and sex (i.e., don’t do it), but now that I’ve changed jobs he’s made his personal interest in me pretty clear; and I like him a lot. In view of this quite relevant fact–and the global scarcity of men who, like him, are tall, funny, and smarter than me–the age thing doesn’t bother me. BUT. The problem is: I don’t know if he’s still married to the mother of his two college-age kids, and I don’t know how to ask. I know this sounds dumb. But our earlier professional friendliness did not extend to swapping details of our private lives, although he does mention the kids. Is this some kind of guy code for “wife”?? So, can you suggest a polite way to raise this, preferably using some kind of Southeast Asia currency-crisis metaphor to get the point across? (He’s up to his neck in all that stuff out there right now.) —Hesitating in Paris Dear Hesitating in Paris, Prudence is pleased that you are not put off by the fact that this man is a macroeconomist and 15 years older than you. There can be lots of life left in an old macroeconomist. Now, how to find out if he is married: You might say to him, “I understand that the IMF is committed to standing by Thailand to the end, no matter what happens. Do you think such a commitment is wise? How about such commitments between individuals, even between husbands and wives?” You might try: “I suppose you are hoping that Congress will do something about the marriage penalty in the income tax this year. Would it make much difference to you?” How about: “The OECD tax-free store is having a sale on Chanel No. 5. Should I buy some for your wife?” Of course, you could just ask him. —Prudence, delightedly, Herbert Stein From: Dear Prudence. (Jan. 17, 1998). Dear Prudence, My fraternal twin and I (both men) are in our late 30s. We were always extremely close and shared a bedroom growing up. When we were 12 we gradually started experimenting sexually with each other. After a couple of years, we realized we had fallen in love. Of course we felt guilty and ashamed, and we didn’t dare tell anyone what we were doing. We hoped it was “just a phase” that we’d grow out of, but we wound up sleeping together until we left for college. We knew this could ruin our lives, so we made a pact to end it. We attended schools far apart and limited our contact to family holidays. But we never fell out of love with each other, so after graduation we moved in together and have been living very discreetly as a monogamous couple ever since. I’m not writing to you to pass moral judgment on our relationship—we’re at peace and very happy. Our dilemma is how to deal with our increasingly nosy family and friends. They know we’re gay, and we live in a state where same-sex marriage is legal, so we’re getting pressure to settle down. I feel we should continue being discreet for the rest of our lives and blow off their questions. It’s nobody’s business, and I fear they would find our relationship shocking and disgusting. My brother, though, is exhausted with this charade. He thinks that if we get the family together with a therapist to talk through the issues, they’ll eventually accept it. I think he’s out of his mind, but I also want to make him happy. Is this one of those times when honesty is not the best policy? If so, how do we get everyone to stop worrying we will die alone? I’m also concerned about the legal implications of this—would the therapist be required to report us to the authorities? Could we go to prison? —Tired of This Greek Tragicomedy Dear Greek, I admit this is my first letter about homosexual, incestuous twins, but I’m going to take you at your word that you two are happy and that I should suppress the images that came to mind of two sets of brothers who lived together and came to unseemly ends: the pack-rat Collyer brothers and the twin gynecologist Marcus brothers. Let’s deal with your legal questions first. I spoke to Dan Markel, a professor at Florida State University College of Law. He said that while incest is generally illegal in most jurisdictions, the laws tend to be enforced in a way that would protect minors, prevent sexual abuse, and address imbalances of power. Those aren’t at issue in your consensual adult relationship, but Markel suggests you have a consultation with a criminal defense attorney (don’t worry, the discussion would be confidential) to find out if your relationship would come under the state incest statutes. Either way, it’s better to know, and if it is illegal, as long as you remain discreet the likelihood of prosecution is remote. Next, I suggest that you and your brother split the difference in your approach to family and friends. Blowing people off for the next couple of decades is only going to fan the flames of curiosity. But I also agree with you that having a family gathering in which you announce you two have found life partners—each other—will give everyone the vapors. Ultimately your choice is your business, but a limited version of the truth should back everyone off. When people ask when you’re each going to go out there and find a nice young man, tell them that while it may seem unorthodox, you both have realized that living together is what works for you. Say no brothers could be more devoted or compatible, and neither of you can imagine wanting to change what you have.—Emily Yoffe From: Brotherly Love. (Feb. 16, 2012). And don’t miss the follow-up from the brothers themselves! 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 husband and I have been married for 15 years, together for 20. He’s a wonderful husband and father and a great match for me in many ways. I love him very much. However, our sex has always been a little less than satisfying. It’s lovely and comforting and connecting, and not infrequent, but it doesn’t get me off. In general, it’s too brief and too low-key and basic to get me to come. A lot of the time it’s enough to have so-so sex and get myself off on my own time. There are so many other things about our relationship that mesh I was OK with making great sex less of a priority. But every once in a while it would be nice for the sex to be of the superhot, primal, more intense variety. It’s not that our sex life started out spectacular and faded; it’s always been this way. I don’t fake orgasms—I don’t know if he thinks I’m having one. It’s not something he would ever, ever talk about. He’s the type of guy who doesn’t talk about sex. Ever. It makes him uncomfortable and squeamish—it’s just his personality, plus how he was raised (and kind of the way I was raised as well). And at this point, it’s been this way so long it seems impossible to bring up. I don’t want to make him feel bad or inadequate, and the idea of bringing up a subject we haven’t talked about for 20 years is deeply uncomfortable. Is this the way things are always going to be? Is there anything I can do? How do you get out of a 20-year rut? —Not Finished Dear Not Finished, Imagine such silence about a regular activity in any other context. Imagine your partner making you a dinner that you both eat but never acknowledge verbally. No “What do you want for dinner?” No “This dinner is great, no really, it’s great.” No “I’m sorry I can’t recite a sonnet to you at the moment, though I am inclined to do so, because my mouth is full of the food you just cooked for us.” Nothing! This is to say: It’s hard for me to imagine having sex but not talking about having sex. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been the opposite—willing to have probably too many conversations about the hotness of the sex that was just had. Communication is a direct route to pleasure and, inversely, the road to pleasure becomes extremely uneven without it. That said, I think you’ve already learned this firsthand, and I don’t think your situation is particularly uncommon. I also believe that sex is communication, among the many things that it is. While it’s equally maddening and heartening that you won’t bring this up for fear of making him feel bad or inadequate—at the expense of your own pleasure!—I think one way of handling this particular predicament is to say with your body what you cannot with your words. Make it your business to turn things primal: Bring your own intensity and get him to scratch your itch (by literally placing his hand where you need it, for example). I imagine this will also seem uncomfortable to you at first, but you can go slow and try one little new thing at a time. Your differences could be fundamental and irreconcilable, but you don’t seem to think so, so just change your approach. Before long, you could come before his very eyes. See if that doesn’t give him something to talk about.—Rich Juzwiak From: My Husband Doesn’t Make Me Orgasm, and Never Has. (Feb. 10, 2019). Dear Prudie, I have long wanted to ask your advice concerning a problem that is certainly not new to me. I have been in a committed relationship with a man for four years. We have everything going for us, and I feel it’s time to marry. It seems to be the next logical step. We’ve been talking about this for over a year, so this is not a new subject. Last week we had a huge fight about our relationship and getting married. It ended with him storming out and me crying. My question is: If a man keeps saying he’s not ready to marry, is this his way of saying “I’ll never marry you”? In other words, should I just move on? —Impatiently Waiting Dear Imp, Oh dear, the beloved is having trouble with his feet. They’re cold. It’s the old commitment problem, which seems to afflict more men than women. The goings-on you describe sound like a cross between psychodrama and dating, never good for the nerves. You have these options, as Prudie sees it: You can stick it to him and force a decision; you can coast along and see if he starts to feel more “ready”; or you can make a deadline–spoken or unspoken–at which time you will either call a caterer or tell him it’s been lovely. What some women have done, though Prudie doesn’t recommend it, is to make the beloved jealous with other men. This is sometimes effective in extracting a proposal, but it is also a little like lassoing a calf, and who wants a groom one is dragging to the altar? The dilemma on whose horns you ride is that sometimes “not ready” means just that, and at other times it really does mean “not you.” The hell of it is that often the real meaning is unknown to the gentleman himself. As one of the French philosophes put it, “Men and women deserve something better than each other.” If things work out, do let Prudie know so that she can wish you mazel ton … tons of luck. —Prudie, hopefully, Margo Howard From: Dear Prudence. (July 4, 1998). Dear How to Do It, A couple years ago—about 10 years into our marriage and amid our trying to fix some desire discrepancy issues—my wife confessed that she cheated on me with a good friend of ours, someone who was in our wedding party and has since made moves on her. This took place about a year before we were engaged, so a long time ago. While we have come a long way, it’s taken me a long time to get over this because of certain details. The biggest of these details is that she told me he performed a particular act for her, one that she enjoyed—an act she won’t let me perform on her. I’m very attracted to my wife; I couldn’t feel like a luckier guy. She is not the most (or least) sexually adventurous person; nor am I. I’m quite happy with our sex life, except that one thing. I’m slightly obsessed with it. She seems to enjoy porn that contains it, and she’s had it and liked it before, but doesn’t want it from me. She claims it’s a hygiene issue, but I feel like that is easy enough to solve. Simply put, I’m not going to do something she says she doesn’t want. At the same time, I really want to shed my insecurity about her getting freaky on the low with our old friend but not me. The male psyche is a little ridiculous, I realize. What should I do? —Aspiring Ass Kisser Dear Aspiring Ass Kisser, At least you’ve still got your sense of humor. Your wife might be having a bit of a madonna/whore moment over the hygiene issue. It might feel like it’s one thing to let someone she’s having a short affair with do—something that mildly squicks her out—and a whole other thing to have the same mouth she intends to kiss goodnight forever be one that’s just removed from her rectum. You could try broaching the subject of a dental dam (a barrier generally used to reduce the possibility of passing sexually transmittable infections) to see if that solves the hygiene concern. You might find that your wife has other qualms about participating in analingus, and if that’s the case, you should probably drop the subject for now. Since you (applaudably!) don’t want to do anything she doesn’t want to do, you’ll want to be cautious with anything that might feel like coercion or nagging. Yes, the male psyche can be a bit silly. So can the female. Be gentle with yourself for having feelings. Insecurity and jealousy are completely reasonable reactions to learning of an infidelity, even if it occurred a long time ago. Give yourself permission to feel those emotions. Your wife may never allow you to eat her ass. You should probably begin preparing for that now, and focus on the things you do love about your existing sex life, which sounds like plenty.—Jessica Stoya From: My Wife Cheated—and Let Him Do Something She’d Never Let Me Do. (April 2, 2019). Dear Prudence, My husband and I both are status holders on an airline and have flown first class many times on upgrades. An issue arises, however, when we fly together. It started last year when, based on check-in time, he was offered an upgrade to first class and took it, leaving me sitting in coach without even a thought. I had a pounding migraine and was very ill. I did not want the upgrade; I wanted him to sit with me. There were many times I turned first class down to sit with him. Most recently the situation came up again. They offered first class to both of us, as we were on the same reservation, but said they only had one seat. He jumped at it, presuming he would be the one to get it, and I snapped: No, we would stay in our seats. All times except the first time we were both in business class, just not first class, and these were cross-country red-eye flights. I have told him I was upset when he took the upgrade and presumed he would take it again, but he says I should not be mad because he would not care if I did it to him (he would). To be clear, I don’t expect him to give me the upgrade. I just want us to only take the upgrade if we both get it. Otherwise I ask them to give my upgrade to any active-duty service member or the next status holder. While I travel alone a lot, I certainly prefer on a red-eye to have him near me as I feel safer sleeping. I always sit in the middle seat next to a stranger so he can have more room. It just makes me feel like he’s being very selfish, but he does not see it that way at all. This is domestic first class, so it’s not that great, just more room, and yes, he’s taller, but to me it’s the fact that he presumes entitlement over me and disrespects my feelings. Am I being petty? —Trouble at 10,000 Feet Dear Trouble at 10,000 Feet, It’s always refreshing to have a complete nonproblem. You and your husband are both mildly ridiculous (he is quite rude, which is worse), and the idea that the struggle is about moving from business class to first class is just … something. Also, “This is domestic first class, so it’s not that great” is going to stay with me for a long time. I am sure the people back in steerage by the malfunctioning toilet are deeply invested in this marital squabble. I am, however, done joshing you and here to solve your problem. I have outlined a series of scenarios: If your husband is actually a person with sufficiently long femurs that business-class seats make him fold up: You begin booking two first-class seats at the outset and be done with this Game of Delta Thrones. If you both get the upgrade: You both take the upgrade. If only one of you gets the upgrade: The person who gets the upgrade takes the upgrade. Upgrades are to be taken. Who would turn down the upgrade? Conversely, who would fume because his wife gets a hot towel and a quinoa salad? If you get the upgrade and genuinely do not want it, give it to your husband, who wants it. Now you have two seats, unless the airline jams someone in there, so there’s no reason for you to be in the middle next to a stranger.If your reservation gets the upgrade, you have to pick: It’s called rock paper scissors, and if you want to be a martyr, just give it to your husband. But he cannot grab the upgrade and run to the front without mutual discussion. I am sorry about your migraines. I do not think your husband can really do much to help. If this is a pattern of bulldozing your wishes, think about that.—Nicole Cliffe From: My Husband Keeps Taking First-Class Airline Upgrades Without Me. (Nov. 23, 2019). Dear Prudence, My wife was a nationally ranked equestrian when she was growing up, and rode competitively for her college team. We first started dating in college. At that time, her dorm room was covered in horse paraphernalia—photos, old riding awards, trinkets from competitions, horse-themed calendars, you name it. I never really paid much attention to it because I’m not a decorations guy and honestly didn’t care about the aesthetics of her dorm room. However, now that we’ve moved into our first real home together, my wife is starting to turn this into a horse home! There is horse-related stuff EVERYWHERE. It’s like someone’s grandma’s horse-themed attic threw up in here. I’ve tried to gently bring it up but since I don’t really have decorative “taste” and didn’t contribute any of my own decorations, it’s not like I can suggest hanging up some of my stuff too. My wife injured herself severely in a horse accident during her senior year and hasn’t ridden since then. She gets incredibly emotional if I even suggest leaving a painting or two off the wall and perhaps putting them into storage. Prudie, I don’t need an Instagram-worthy home, just one that looks like adults live here. I don’t hang up paintings of sports teams I love or my succulent tools! I don’t understand why my wife is so attached to all this stuff and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m a grown man living in a horse girl’s dorm room. I feel like a jerk for complaining because she’s the one who invested time and money into decorating, and as I said, I have no great ideas … I just don’t like the way it is now. What should I do? —Living in a Horse Girl’s Dorm Room Dear Living in a Horse Girl’s Dorm Room, For starters, if you want to have this conversation (again) with your wife, I’m afraid you’re going to have to come up with some ideas for how you’d like to decorate your home. They don’t have to be great, but they do have to exist, and if you can’t think of anything offhand, there’s an entire industry of “interior design suggestions” just waiting to be explored. That’s not to say you can’t approach her unless you’ve spent 50 hours designing a look book first, but do a little research, see what you like, and bring a few suggestions to the table. I’d also encourage you to focus on what you can reasonably ask of a partner (“I want a 50 percent reduction in horse decor, and I think it’s important to keep talking about this even if you feel upset” is a perfectly achievable discussion) rather than attempt to psychoanalyze said partner (“I want a 50 percent reduction in horse decor, and I think you’re trapped in a state of arrested development because you were thrown off a horse your senior year of college. What do you think? Can you meet my terms, and do you agree that you’re psychologically frozen in time?” is not). You can be “gentle” without abandoning the topic just because your partner gets upset. Acknowledge that this is emotional for her, demonstrate patience and compassion if she starts crying, take a break if things get too heated—but don’t just back off because she gets upset.—Danny M. Lavery From: Help! I Married a Horse Person. (Nov. 17, 2020). Classic Prudie I am 27 years old and engaged to an amazing guy. When I was a little girl, my dad was involved in a really bad accident and was burned over a large portion of his body. He lost part of one limb and has some serious disfigurement. He has been a great dad and I never think about it. A few weeks ago, my fiancé started acting strange when we talked about the wedding… Advice Dating and Relationships Dear Prudence Marriage Sex