8 Steps To Hotter Sex After Divorce

By Michaela Mitchell for DivorcedMoms.com

Show of hands: How many of you have faked headaches or pleaded exhaustion to get out of having sex when you were married? Yeah, me too. How many of you made grocery lists in your mind, worried sex was interfering with your to-do list, or generally just wanted the whole thing done and over? Yep, same here.

For those lucky people who don't have a clue what I'm talking about -- good for you!

Sex doesn't have to be unsatisfying or boring. It shouldn't be a chore or something to dread. Sex is fun. Sex is relaxing. Sex helps you sleep better. And it's an excellent way to connect with yourself and any future partner.

For those of us with less-than-great sex lives during our marriage, you can make over your sex life post-divorce. It takes a little effort, a willingness to stretch your boundaries a bit, and a healthy curiosity.

1. Get in touch with yourself.

If it wasn't part of your sex life before, make masturbation part of it now. Orgasms are a great way to reduce stress and fall asleep easier. But that's just the bonus. Touching yourself in a sexual way will help you learn exactly what you like and don't like.

2. Learn from reading or watching.

Not all porn is created equal, and not all of it is damaging to the psyche. Read erotica or romance novels. Watch real people making their own porn online. (Yes, that's really a thing. It's also hotter than you might imagine.)

Read blogs by people who write about their sex lives. The more you learn about the different ways people have sex, the more you can improve your own sex life.

3. Be honest with yourself.

Curious about a kink or fetish? Don't deny it. Find out more and then decide. Have a definite preference in men -- height, weight, age, size (you know what I mean, wink-wink)? Own it. Don't let yourself become blind to great partners who don't meet every requirement, but decide what you like and go for it. This is a brand new day in your sex life. You don't have to settle for anything.

4. Get comfortable in your own skin.

Raise of hands -- who hated getting naked in front of their spouse? Yeah, me too. This is the time to get over it. Confidence is sexy and the best sex happens when you're comfortable and confident.

Look at yourself naked as often as possible. (Make sure the kids are in bed or the cat's in another room.) Give yourself a mantra to say each day: "I am beautiful. I am sexy. I deserve great sex." Yes, it sounds hokey, but it really does work.

5. Communicate more.

When you find someone to get naked with, talk to them. Share what you like, what you don't like, and what you're curious about. Yes, it's awkward and difficult at first. But it's also worth it. The best relationships, even purely sexual ones, are built on a solid foundation of communication. How can you have great sex if your partner is flying blind -- in a manner of speaking?

6. Experiment more.

Buy a sex toy -- vibrators, dildos, oh my! Try a new position. Test out a possible fetish or kink. There are excellent resources on the web to help you. If it doesn't work for you, laugh a little with your partner (or yourself) and move on to something else. Just because you try something doesn't mean you're required to keep doing it.

7. Learn from your past.

What turned you off when you were married? What turned you on? What made you fake a headache or claim to be too tired? These are all triggers -- good or bad. Go back to the step on communication and make sure any new partners understand how you feel and what you want.

8. Don't take sex too seriously.

Okay, so protections against disease and pregnancy are very serious. Finding a good partner who respects you and cares about your pleasure is definitely serious. But sex, as a general rule, is meant to be fun. It shouldn't feel like a chore or a job. And it's not something that has to be done with your game face on.

You might start out all serious and sensual but then someone's body makes a funny noise or one of you gets a leg cramp. Those things are unexpected and often hilarious. Learn how to laugh during sex, and you're almost guaranteed to automatically have a better sex life without doing anything else.

Making over your sex life doesn't just help you have better and more satisfying sex. Post-divorce, it can give you a much-needed boost of confidence, too.

Knowing what you want and what you like will also help you find more compatible sexual partners. A whole new world opens up once you realize sex can be fun, funny, and exciting. After your divorce, you deserve a fresh start in every part of your life -- including sex.

More from DivorcedMoms.com

• Rediscovering Sex After Divorce: My Belated Sexual Revolution


• 5 Things Women Do That Emasculate Men In a Relationship


• Sex With Your Ex? Don't Go There!


• 8 Important Things To Remember When Divorcing

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Beware The Manic Pixie Dream Boyfriend

This post originally appeared on The Cut.
By Anna Breslaw

When I was in college I dated a guy who always checked that I was listening closely before making proclamations like "Dead flowers are more beautiful than live flowers." After learning my building had roof access, he insisted we sit up there one night and chain-smoke Marlboro 27s. I was too anxious that my super would find out, and he was disappointed. "You're totally closed off!" he exclaimed. "You're never open to what the world is telling you."

By "the world," he obviously meant himself. If the world was telling me anything, it was Dump this idiot. (He was hot, though.)

This sort of guy can be irresistible, especially to goal-oriented women who need a break from obsessing about work. "I had serious obligations, and cared about success, and he was just, YOLO," explains Beth, a 26-year-old union organizer, of her ex-boyfriend. "He was like, I'll read you my poetry and be romantic and freeing because I'll find things about you that are valuable that have nothing to do with your personal or career goals." In your early 20s, they're the opposite of the boring lawyer you "should" be dating.

The college guy was my first encounter with a type I have come to think of as the Manic Pixie Dream Boy: the self-mythologizing "free-spirited" dude who's determined to make your life magical, whether you want it or not.

Think of him as a variation on the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, a term A.V. Club writer Nathan Rabin coined in 2007 to describe the whimsical female onscreen love interest whose sole narrative purpose is to help the sad boy hero cheer up. The Manic Pixie Dream Boy has a cultivated crunchy-eclectic-hipster aesthetic. ("He had a tattoo of a deer woodcut with a banner that said, 'Stay Hungry,'" recalled my friend Jenna, 31, of her MPDB. "While we were making out he kept the poncho on that he got in Guatemala during his gap year," said another friend, Margaux, 28.) Back when I was in school, he listened to Panda Bear; ten years later, as a late-20-something, he listens to Getz/Gilberto -- on vinyl, obviously. He relishes breaking rules, and relishes even more his complete lack of concern that he'll get caught. He gushes about tripping on mushrooms at Burning Man and he's happy to supply you with some, as long as you promise to do them in nature. And he is determined to show women -- no matter how much more successful, wealthy, beautiful, happy, and confident they are than him -- that they aren't living life to the fullest.

If you need help picturing the type, consider a fictional example from the acclaimed web series High Maintenance: In a group of post-college friends who have moved into the adult realm of wedding-planning and LSAT-taking, Chad (Chris Roberti) makes it a point to remain responsibility-free. He judges his friends' priorities -- waking up early for work is lame, spending $60,000 on a wedding is "disgusting" -- while crashing on their sofas and bumming drug money. In order to help them temporarily escape their humdrum lives, he plans a weekend of shrooming at a lake house, where he pitches an "intentional community in Portugal where we can grow our own food, or weed, or whatever." His relentlessly adventurous spirit risks exasperating his friends, but it definitely succeeds in getting him laid.

Chad also demonstrates that while these tendencies may crystallize in college, they do not necessarily vanish with age. Jenna describes the 28-year-old man she recently dumped: "He carried a notebook he used to sketch people on the subway. He'd always talk about some magical conversation he struck up with a stranger 'on the streets of New York' about -- kid you not -- Derrida."

Then she nailed it: "His whole personality seemed designed to be filmed by an awful college student."

Over the last decade, women in their 20s and 30s have become increasingly ambitious professionals. Women are now more likely to go to college and graduate from college, and young, childless women out-earn men in 39 of the 50 biggest cities in the U.S. As such, the contrasts between my cohort and freewheeling MPDBs of the same age have become even more extreme. Beth dated her MPDB for a year before his quirkiness came between them. "On any given weeknight, he'd brew coffee at 3 a.m. so he could pull an all-nighter because he was 'most creative at twilight,' or whatever the fuck," she remembers. "I'd be like, I have to wake up for work in four hours, can you not?"

Some of these women admit that the MPDB's lack of tangible ambition can be refreshing, at least at first. Yet it comes with a dark side: The MPDB feels sure he knows best, and he pairs his affectations with condescension for everyone else. Living in the moment apparently requires denouncing the gainful employment of the women he dates. Jenna recalls, "When I had my first real journalism job, he'd accuse me of being careerist or not livin' life when I had to work until nine instead of eating burritos in the moonlight with him."

But even before career enters the picture, even if your sensibilities are the same, the MPDB still insists on teachable "This song will change your life"-style moments. Margaux describes her ex from college: "Every conversation would be him asking me, 'Have you heard this song?' 'No, is it good?' 'Yeah, it's good.'"

I asked Margaux whether the authority to recommend pop culture went both ways. "It was weird," she said. "We were both writers and he really seemed to respect my work and think I was smart -- but then he didn't respect me in conversation and didn't care about my opinions. But he welcomed the opportunity to hold court." She added: "I made him mixes, but I don't think he ever listened to them."

But perhaps instead of letting such behavior bother us, we should recognize that the MPDB deserves our pity. Someone who forsakes being an actual person, instead choosing to be a collection of affected eccentricities with the compulsive need to display them to women might just be (bear with me, it's far-fetched) slightly insecure. It would explain why MPDBs compulsively try to introduce women to revelatory, obscure pop culture -- as a deflection technique.

Jenna's theory: "It was like he was worried his actual personality wasn't interesting enough, so he borrowed it wholesale from an irritating indie movie where people run while holding hands."

Now, successful and in our late 20s, my friends and I have begun to value romantic reality more than romantic fantasy: a guy offering his seat on the train in a crowded commuter car, Sunday afternoons at Crate & Barrel, joint bank accounts. As for the MPDBs, stuck in romantic fantasy -- they're sad, really. We've outgrown them.

Jenna concludes: "Being 'into' things like getting caught in a sudden downpour does not make you interesting, it makes you the fucking 'Piña Colada' song."

Sooner or later, the time comes when we must let the fantasy of the MPDB -- like his oft-reviled counterpart, the MPDG -- frolic off into the sunset. It's almost a shame they can't date each other. But without their straight-person foils, they'd just be two people in beanies talking over each other.

Also from The Cut:
Great Moments In Menstrual History
Why Women Love To Read About Crime
A Timeline Of Serena Williams's Splits
Is My Rosé Habit Ruining My Teeth?





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Man's 'Proposal' To His Future Stepdaughter Couldn't Be Sweeter

When William Ledbetter popped the question to his girlfriend Paige Evans, he made sure to include one other very important person in his plans: Paige's 5-year-old daughter Maddie. 

On September 2, the couple's second anniversary, William proposed to Paige at their home in Gray, Georgia. Afterwards, he also "proposed" to future stepdaughter Maddie, presenting her with her own ring.

"You want to be my daughter forever, too?" he sweetly asks in the video, which was posted to YouTube earlier this month.

(Story continues after the video.) 

After a little prompting, Maddie says, "Yes!"

William told The Huffington Post that he had some family photos matted and framed as part of Paige's anniversary present. While she was reading the card that accompanied the gift, he asked her to marry him. 

"I didn't want Maddie to see the pictures and ring I got for Paige and feel left out," he said. "So I actually got Maddie a ring as well, along with a necklace and earrings so she would feel like she had 'won' over her mommy [by getting more]." 

"I included Maddie because any time I give her mom presents, she's always right there wanting to open them for her and talking about how much she loves whatever I got her mom," William added. 

Watch the heartwarming moment unfold in the video above. That hug that William and Maddie share at the end couldn't be more adorable!

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16 Things Women Wish Men Would Do On Dates

Dating after divorce is a scary, scary prospect. Between crotch shots from random dudes on Tinder to rants about ex-wives on dates, is it any wonder that so many of us throw in the towel and say "thanks, but no thanks" to getting back out there? 

It's time to raise the bar, gentlemen. To that end, we asked our readers on HuffPost Divorce's Facebook page to share the one thing they wish more men would do before, during and after dates.

Read what they had to say below: 

1. "Be ready to talk and don't ask 'where is this heading?'" -- Denise Robinson

2. "Dating is nerve-wracking! I wish guys would admit that they're a wreck, too. It's nice to know I'm not the only one sweating." -- Kasey Ferris

3. "Don't talk about your sex life -- or lack thereof -- on the first date." -- Lori Shively

 

4. "Let me pick up the check sometimes. My first date with my now ex-husband was a pleasant surprise; he wouldn't let me pay for my dinner but he let me buy us both coffee afterward. It felt like he saw me more as an equal than someone he was expected to take care of." -- Kate Fruehling

 

5. "Be honest about who you are and what type of relationship you're looking for and are capable of having." -- Vicki Richards

 

6. "Hold doors open for me. Pull out my chair!" -- Amy Mudd

 

7. "Don't examine the bill when you get it. I already feel bad enough that you're paying, let's not make it awkward too." -- Renee Hamilton

 

8. "Candy Crush can wait. Just sayin.'" -- Kimberly McGrain

9. "Please, no d*ck pics beforehand." -- Kelly Connolly 

10. "Be yourself and have no ulterior motives. Just enjoy the encounter with another human being, without hidden agendas or stupid games." -- Ana Nita 

11. "Don't discuss your negative opinions about monogamy. So many divorced men have this anti-relationship mindset and love to vocalize it. It may be because they aren't taking enough time to heal from their breakup. Whatever the case may be, asking me out and then slamming the idea of relationships is unsexy and probably won't get you a second date. (Or laid, if that's what you're after.)" -- Kimberly McGrain 

12. "Listen to my response after you ask a question. Make real conversation with lots of give and take. Good conversation is the best." -- Kate Winter Davis 

13. "Appreciate the date. Single men in their 40s act like women have to accept scraps. As if they're our last hope, saving us from a life of spinsterhood!" -- Kathi Williams Robinson

 

14. "Ask us out on a date. I don't want to 'hang out' or 'chill.' I'm a grown woman." -- Heidi Beale

15. "On the date, treat us like a priority, not just an option." -- Amy Kuniholm

 

16. "During the date, refrain from saying,  'I'm better at being single than in a relationship... So do you want to go out again?'" -- Janice Songer 

 

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The Dead Stepdog

Worcestershire sauce was everywhere. My attempt to organize the shelves with handy, space saving racks had resulted in several spice and condiment avalanches. The bottle fell right as the phone was ringing. I saw it was my stepdaughter's mom, and being covered in the brown, pungent sauce, I handed her the phone without answering. She said "Hi mommy!" And then promptly handed it back to me. Uh oh.

"She wants to talk to you." Her tan, skinny little arm stretched out to hand back the phone, and she plopped on the couch to continue her show.

I let the hardwood floors and counters marinade as I ran upstairs and said hello. There was crying on the other end. I've never heard my husband's ex cry. I've never heard much of anything from her other than obligatory pleasantries at school functions. My love, my rock, my reason for signing up for all of this, had left for the opposite coast 24 hours ago. Nothing significant happens when he is here.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we have to put Izabella down today. She's not going to make it any longer."

I watched myself in the mirror as I responded. I didn't want to come off as uncomfortable as I was. All I saw was Worcestershire sauce, in my hair, on my earlobes, soaking in to my yoga pants. When something falls, you always make a bigger mess trying to catch it.

"Oh no...I'm so sorry." Was my trite and inadequate reply.

Between stifled sobs she asked, "What should I do? Should she be here or not? I can't get ahold of him. They are keeping her alive as long as they can. I know he's out of town this week. I think I know what he'd say. He'd say we should shield her from this. What do you think?"

This was a moment my husband and I had often talked about, having thought the time was imminent for the last two years. We had gone back and forth as to whether it's healthy for a child to experience all the aspects of the passing of a beloved pet, or whether this particular child was too sensitive, too prone to anxiety and melancholy to handle it. Where had we landed last time it was discussed?

I stammered over my words. My mind was racing ahead to the devastation my stepdaughter would soon feel and how I was going to help. Me, the person she'd put 5th in line to do anything with, but the person she was stuck with 50% of the time. I wanted to opt out of the entire thing. The awkwardness, the sorrow, the responsibility, this phone call...

"I...I...it's totally your call. I support whatever you decide." Good Stepmom, be polite and don't over step. Do the right thing, this too shall pass.

"I don't know what's best for her. What do you think?"

What do I think? I'm not paid to think. I'm here for the car pool and the awesome lunches I pack. If I open the part of my brain where I try and make decisions on what is best for my stepdaughter it's hard to shut it, and then I get put in stepmom timeout. Would her father want to shield her? I remembered a nightmare my stepdaughter had two summers ago. We were awoken by the sound of her uncontrollable, choking cries from her bedroom. Izzy had died in her dream and our then seven year old was beside herself with grief. She didn't shake the emotions of the dream the whole weekend, and she still references it. How could she possibly cope with the real thing and why would we want her to try?

I felt a twinge in my heart thinking about what my stepdaughter would feel. A strong feeling of guilt came next. We had often grumbled as to why the poor animal was still suffering, as we had to juggle plans to intercept the child due to a doggy seizure, emergency pooch medical procedures, or an epic mess only a sick, elderly dog could conjure up. I brought books home that gently dealt with death. We talked a lot about dog years, that Izzy was grandma's age. I was willing it to just be over.

Of course it also got under my paper thin, stepmom skin when stepdaughter wanted to retell the story of daddy picking out Izzy with his first wife. That wonderful moment they had shared, caring for and loving a little pug before they shared a child. I threw up in my mouth every time she beamed at him and pleaded, "Daddy tell me the story of you and mommy getting Izzy again!" It was the piece of furniture from their marriage I couldn't put in the yard sale. Now I wish I could delay this heartache, and this highly unpleasant co-parenting scenario, for a few more years.

But the present phone call demanded an answer...

"My opinion means nothing but..."

"Yes it does!" My stepdaughter's biological mother quickly interjected.

"I think this will be terrible. Horrible, awful, painful. But a terrible thing she needs to go through. She has a right to experience it." I don't know which part of my brain that came from, but there it was.

The ex-wife let out a sigh and asked, "OK, can you meet us here right now?"

At first I tried an urgent tone and said, "Kids get ready immediately we need to go somewhere. Right now." We hadn't covered what was acceptable for me to say, and I was already in unknown territory. I also knew my 6 year old son would only complicate the situation. He did anyway. He laid down and refused to move until I detailed our plans and he deemed them fun enough. I didn't have time to force him out of his pajamas because I needed to get out of mine and wipe the sauce off. We had a wild play date the night before and we were all still play date hungover. Stepdaughter stopped halfway upstairs because she was keen on hearing my answer since the question had been posed by her younger, more defiant brother.

"OK guys, come here. I'll level with you. [Stepdaughter]'s dog Izabella is very sick. We need to bring [Stepdaughter] to her fast. She needs to be there for her right now, before it's too late. I need you to be a good brother, and support her." They nodded and we got ready faster than we have ever dressed before.

While I was brushing her hair my delicate, perceptive bonus daughter said "I'm shaking and I don't know why."

I was too, and I didn't know why either.

"I think you are very brave, and if you feel like crying, cry all you want. If you don't feel like crying that's cool too."

I had no idea what I was talking about, but she smiled at me in the mirror. One of the rare moments we actually made eye contact in three years together. I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I can handle this major crisis in my stepdaughter's life with grace.

"I hope Izzy is OK." she said.

Poop. My subtle handling of the situation is too subtle for a 3rd grader. I felt like I needed to be clearer so she wasn't shocked, but this was not my place, not my dog. In fact, I hadn't even decided if we would be a pet family. I hadn't weighed the pros and cons of allowing my son to have a pet, yet here I was dealing with the aftermath of parenting decisions that were made long before me. I guess I vowed to have and to hold, in sickness and health...including your ex-wife's dog.

"I think you should prepare yourself that maybe this is the end."

"OK..." She frowned and put on her headphones to watch a cartoon as we pulled out of the driveway.

Had I said too much? Why....whhhhhhhy was my husband always gone for the big issues? Death, life, sex, politics...these are things I've learned to keep my wicked stepmom nose out of. Would I get a lecture about boundaries if I said the wrong thing? What if she brought up the afterlife and our vastly different religious views reared their ugly heads? Where will she go if this is still our custody week? She doesn't want to grieve with me. I'm just her awkward, play games, bake cookies, and meet all needs nanny. I'm going to have to hug her, and I'm not a hugger. She's going to sense it. She's going to hate the whole situation. She might need me to stay in her room tonight. Worst sleepover ever. She's going to resent me because I represent everything she wishes was different. Her dad being gone, her parent's divorce, having to share attention with a little brother, and now somehow, her dog dying.

Her mother met me in the parking lot. She was a mess of tears and dog hair and physical exhaustion. As I watched her lead my stepdaughter into the animal hospital I tried to mentally prepare for what she would be like on her way out. I ran through a checklist of all the things we would need: tissues, movies without sadness or animals, salty snacks, pictures of Izzy handy in case she wanted to reminisce, pictures hidden in case she wanted to forget. I typed a few notes in my phone and realized how much I was sweating. My stomach hurt, and I still smelled like Worcestershire sauce.

That night we talked about Izzy fondly, when she felt like it. We cried a little, we stayed up past bedtime playing, and we skipped brushing our teeth because the new rule is 'if your dog dies, you don't have to brush your teeth that day.' I worried after I tucked her in that she would wake up and be very upset. I worried whether I handled the events even remotely right. I worried if I showed her enough love and support like a real mom would, and not just an 'I've been in the picture for 3 years mom.'

The rest of the story goes as you can expect if you have ever loved an animal from the time you were 1 till you were 9. Stepdaughter missed a little school, she did a few things that were out of character for her while she was struggling to deal, and returning to her mother's home where the absence of Izzy is palpable was devastating. But my stepdaughter is strong and smart and so very capable of handling whatever we throw at her. And I guess I am too.

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An Open Letter To My Ex-Husband: Thank You

Shortly after writer Shannon Ferguson's divorce was finalized in July, she sat down and wrote a letter to her ex, a man to whom she was married for almost two years. Below, Ferguson, who works in digital marketing and runs the dating advice blog The Love Hawk, shares the bittersweet letter with us.

Dear ex-husband,  

It wasn’t long ago that I was getting into my wedding dress, walking down the aisle and saying the vows I intended to keep forever. It wasn’t long ago that I felt like the most loved woman on the planet because my best friend was by my side and promising to stand by me until the end of time. It wasn’t long ago but it feels like an eternity has passed since then.    

It's been a whirlwind of trying to understand what happened -- of trying to make sense of why it had to end. The year that's slipped away has left me with so many unanswered questions but at the end of each day, I remind myself to be thankful.

So, I thank you. I thank you for our good moments and for the times you stood by and protected me. I thank you for the laughter we always shared and for the memories we created in our short time as a couple and our even longer friendship. I thank you for the flowers, the cards, the little things you did. And I thank you because I know in those moments, you were happy, too.

I thank you for leaving when you did. Even though I’m still trying to understand why, it has made me a stronger person and helped me realize that maybe some things aren’t meant to last forever. 

Thank you for not prolonging the hardship and forcing me to face the world on my own while I’m still young, while my ambition and desire is still strong. Divorce has made me more independent and helped me see the world in a new light, and for that, I thank you.

I thank you for all the lessons you've taught me over the last decade. You taught me that love really does exist and that it can live in someone’s heart no matter the circumstance, distance or boundaries. You loved me in spite of many circumstances and for that, I'm grateful. And you taught me that something even greater can come from the spark of friendship. You were patient and you believed, and for that, I thank you.

Lastly, you taught me that sometimes even the strongest fires burn out. You taught me that even good marriages can fade into nothing and you taught me to be more careful with my heart in the future. You taught me that maybe love isn’t truly enough to keep a marriage afloat -- because God knows I loved you and I always figured you felt the same.

So without hate or animosity, I look back at the past three years since our first dance as husband and wife and all I can do is thank you. Thank you for the good times, for the hard times, for the laughter and the tears. Thank you for helping to shape the strong person I am today and for being a big part of my life for a small slice of time.

I wish you well.

-- Shannon 

 

Want to share a letter of appreciation for your ex-spouse? We'd love to hear it. Email us at divorce@huffingtonpost.com to share your story.

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