Show notes
A native of Belgian, fluent in nine languages, and a penetrating observer of the social and cultural patterns shaping our relationships, Esther is a practicing psychotherapist and organizational consultant to Fortune 500 companies. Her 2013 TED talk, “The Secret to Desire in a Long-Term Relationship,” attracted more than a million views in the first month after its release. Her second TED Talk, “Rethinking Infidelity: A talk for Anyone Who Has Ever Loved”, was equally well-received. Combined, her TED talks have received approx. 10 million views. In today’s episode, Esther and I spoke about: — Her definition of desire; the importance of owning desire and how to connect to our own desires— Women are socialized for connection and the associated vulnerability of the inability to connect to self— Experiencing freedom from perfection without the guilt— Imagination complementing reality in relationships— What women can hold onto for stability in the ever increasingly gender-fluid era. Here is my ‘juicy’ conversation The Fluidity of Desire with the insightful and practical: Esther Perel. Subscribe to the Emerging Women podcast on iTunes. Transcript Welcome, Esther! I’m so excited to have you here on the show! Esther Perel: Thank you! It’s a pleasure for me to be with you as well. CP: And every time you speak, I feel like a tender heart, because my mother, who has passed away, had a much thicker French accent than you have, and I’ve been listening to your audio book, Mating in Captivity, so I feel like you’ve been with me on my walks in the morning and listening to your content. It’s kind of taking me back a bit. EP: You know, we share, in utero, it’s probably the first sense that we develop. So we are starting out with a very intimate connection. And if you want, I can even make my French accent a little stronger, so that I can channel your mother. CP: [Laughs] She spoke like zis. EP: Oh, wow. CP: Oh, no, it was very thick. But I think that when you have an accent like that, and you’re talking about sensuality and sex and desire—I don’t know what your experience has been, but it seems like you might have carte blanche to say just about anything, right? EP: Well, you know, the French accent works in both directions, especially in the United States. Sometimes it comes with a kind of bias that says, “Oh, you must know something, the je ne sais quoi that French people have in the realm of the erotics.” But then, on the other side, the opposite way is to start with kind of a warning sentence that says, “No, no, I’m not French, I’m not morally depraved, it’s not like anything goes.” I think there’s an enormous amount of projections in this domain onto the French—onto the Latin people in general, it seems, certainly onto the French—some of which is going to be accurate and some of which is the fantasy of the person who expresses it, or the person that is being designated. CP: Of course. Well, I think we’re probably going to get into that a lot more [and] in a lot more depth, instead of just talking about the French accent in terms of projections, as we get into your content. So the first thing that I would love to lead with is, you speak a lot about desire. And it seems to me that—especially since our audience is primarily women, we address women, the modern woman, who’s moving it and shaking it in so many different ways—what I’m finding a lot is that women in relationships—and I don’t want to make a generalization with statistics and all that, but anecdotally, I find often women are in relationships where they’ve either lost the desire or the desire has shifted, or they don’t even have juice for desire after working a full day. I’m curious to see—this is such a cornerstone to relationships, and I would love to hear your take on, first of all, what do you mean by desire? And how is that such a foundation for healthy relationships? EP: So I really like the fact that you start by asking me to define the term that you want, so that really know what we are talking about. Now, we could pick a scientific definition for “desire,” we could pick a behavioral, a hormonal—they’re both ways to enter. I tend to think more of it being an existential term, if you want, and I tend to think about the nature of desire because it is probably one of the most important elements of modern life. Meaning, desire is to own the wanting. Desire is the expression of the sovereign self. Desire points to free will. You can force people to do, you can never force them to desire. It is the ultimate expression of our free identity, if you want. And in the realm of intimate relationships, sexual desire has become central. Because this is the first time in the history of humankind that we are meant to remain sexually connected to ourselves and our partner. Not because we want multiple children and we’re having sex for procreation, nor, at least in the West, some of us privileged women know that sexuality is just a marital duty for women. So it is all about, “Do I want it? Do I feel like it? Do I want this to be part of my experience?” And we know that part of the real challenges for women in relationships in general is this dialectic of, “How do I connect to you without losing me? And how do I stay connected with me without losing you?” Hence the notion of staying attached to one’s own wanting, to one’s own preferences, desires, is challenging for a woman in relationships throughout. CP: I love what you’re saying. You own the wanting. Because it’s one thing to recognize it, “Oh, I want this,” but there’s something really proactive in the owning [of] it. EP: Yes, because it points to agency. What I’m saying that’s very typical for woman is that if the other person wants, she often knows what she wants because the other person has said, “Oh, I wanted to go to this place,” and then she says, “No, I don’t really want [to go to] this place.” Now she has a better sense of what she wants because she’s positioning it in the reaction, in response, in contrast to what the other person wants. It’s like she [can’t] elicit it on her own. And then, once she already knows what she wants, the second challenge is to actually drive it, to stay connected to it, to not lose it in the transaction with another person. This is true for sexual desire, this is true for one’s overall sense of self, of, “How do I take care of others, be it in my job, be it in my family, my family of origin or my current family, or in my relationships? And how do I not lose touch with my own?” It is a real challenge, and I would say this, as women in business, as women in professional life, as women in other realms of familial obligation, it’s just essential to the challenge of [a woman knowing her] identity. How does she navigate self and other? How does she know what she wants when she sees the wanting of others, the wanting of her friends, of her mother, of her children, of her boss, of her colleagues? CP: God, this is so deep, I feel it in my own life, too. Do men just have a healthier relationship with desire because it’s more connected to them and not reliant on the other? What do you see as a trend there? EP: Great question, great question. Let me put it to you in a different language. Traditionally, we would see that women are socialized for connection and men are socialized for autonomy. If women are socialized for connection, then their greatest resource is in their ability to connect to others, but they’re greater vulnerability is about staying connected to themselves. If men are socialized for autonomy, then their resource is their ability to hold on to themselves. They know what they want, they can go and get it. But their vulnerability is in the fear that they would lose their autonomy if they create intimacy. So these are dialectics. We all struggle with the same two things: we all need connection and separateness. We all need security and freedom. But I would say that, if you look at general socialization, you will find that the vulnerability for men is not how to deal with their autonomy, but how to deal with the fear of the loss of autonomy in the realm of the relationships. For women, the difficulty is not how to connect but how to stay connected with themselves. CP: Yes. I’m curious to know, once we’ve identified desire and we own it and we have some practices—I know you have an online workshop and an online course that you’re doing around desire that will have more practices in it, so I’m excited to hear more about that. But once we have practices in our lives that are staying connected to desire, how do we—is it possible to rekindle desire? First of all, is it possible for desire to die? And then, can it be rekindled? Because that’s another thing that I’m seeing, that once that goes, it’s like, “Well, you can never get it back.” It’s like a slippery fish, sometimes, this desire. EP: Right. I would describe it differently. Yes, desire dies. But I wouldn’t say “dies.” Sometimes it dies. Generally, I would say desire is more like the moon. It goes through intermittent [phases]. Desire ebbs and flows. Many of us lose connections, to ourselves, to our sense of excitement, to our arousal, to our playfulness, to our aliveness, to our brightness. We all lose it. The difference is that some of us know what to do to resuscitate it. The ebb and flow is not that—we don’t disconnect from ourselves, but that we know how to reconnect. A way of asking the question that I find very, very powerful, that I borrow from the work of Gina Ogden, a colleague of mine—who has written wonderful stuff, by the way, on women and sexuality and female desire. She asks the question like this: “I’ve turned myself off by” or “I shut down when.” Broadly, it’s not just sexually. It’s not the same question as, “You turn me off when” and “What turns me off is.” They basically talk about, “When I stop thinking about myself, when I don’t take care of myself, when I don’t go in nature, when I don’t see my friends, when I stop singing and playing the music I love, when I am disconnected from my partner, when I’m disconnected from my body, when I don’t like my body, when I’m loathing it.” It’s really about [a woman’s] relationship with herself, fundamentally around two areas: the area of self-worth and the area of donation-giving for pleasure. And when you ask the question in reverse: “I turn myself on when,” “I unleash my desires when,” “I awaken myself how, by,” rather than, “You turn me on when,” or “What turns me on is. They will tell you the same thing in reverse. “I awaken my desire when I think of myself, when I take care of myself, when I pamper myself, when I give myself time to go and do the things that I enjoy, that make me feel alive, that make me feel worthy, that make me feel good.” From that place of aliveness, of [connecting] with the erotic self, flows the desire. CP: And what about in relationship? Now you have two people. It’s one thing to stay connected to your own desire and to realize the ebbs and flows—which I love, by the way, because it just gives us permission to be human, and to have that ebb and flow is a wonderful analogy. But what about in relationship? You’ve got two people, two desires, right? EP: Yes, yes, yes. The first thing that jumps to me—I haven’t even let you finish the question, so maybe I should actually listen to you. CP: No! Jump in! It’s a conversation, let me hear it! Cut me off, I love it. EP: What jumps out immediately, of course, is that in relationships, one of the things that [you will] notice with women, in line with what I described before, is that she knows more of what she wants when it’s in a position of what the other person wants. Because when she wants what the other one wants, she often wonders, “Is this really what I want? Or am I just trying to please the other?” She doesn’t know how to know what she wants when the other one wants the same and still feel like it’s hers. So as a result, she is often much more vocal about what she doesn’t like. With desire, you can’t desire not something. You always desire something. You cannot form your desire as a negation. “I desire not to feel something,” no. “I desire to feel that other thing.” And that is where it really is a challenge in life. So often, with a partner, she finds herself articulating her dislikes, her criticisms, the shortcomings, rather than what she would like instead. Now, any criticism is a wish in disguise. But it is also much [harder] to actually articulate our wish or our desire than to articulate our frustrations about the lack thereof. And yet, we women, in that sense, we are masters. So that’s one of the things that she needs to learn if she wants to stay connected to the other person. Why? Because if she just becomes critical and negative, the other person stops listening to her wish and only [makes] a defensive stance toward her criticism and her frustration. So that’s when you get a classic disconnect. The second thing is that sometimes she needs to learn to create boundaries, to give herself that time, to give herself the things that are just privacy with herself, if you want, or what I like to call “intimacy with herself,” so that she can also have an intimacy with the partner. And then the next thing is that sometimes she need to challenge what I think is one of the great problems of modern intimacy, which is that she often turns to one person to give her everything. That in itself becomes a source of frustration. So it’s not that she can’t express her desires, it’s that she comes with all her desires to one person, and basically would like this one man or woman to satisfy what normally an entire community needs to be built for. So what I often find myself doing is asking her, “Who else is in your world? Who populates your inner world? Who do you reach out to? Who do you communicate [with] about what? And can we dismantle this big, romantic ideal that there will be one person who will basically become an extension of you?” Because when that happens, that in itself becomes the death of the erotic in the most unanticipated way. A lot of it is about integrating rather than fragmenting, but at the same time, not integrating to a point of it being so intimate that she has not sense of boundaries. Now, a basic example, a typical, daily example, is, at what point did she stop cleaning, organizing, fixing, doing, being instrumental, and just say, “I’m sitting down now and just doing nothing, or reading, or listening to music,” whatever, just enjoying. At what point did she say, “Enough work, now me,” rather than, “I have to be perfect. Once I have been perfect, then I have earned my desire. Now I’m allowed to want, because I’ve done everything that other people expect.” Many women in this age of perfection have to really learn to just say, “It’s enough for today. And now me,” rather than, “Wait!” She’s exasperated or frustrated or something beyond, and then she doesn’t know how to experience desire because then she experiences deserving. Now she’s in the realm of resentment and now she doesn’t just say “I want,” she says, “I deserve,” right? “Deserving” is wanting for [a] prize. It’s the people who don’t really feel that they are allowed to want so they have to be [at the end] to finally say, “Now me!” But then they say it with such violence and with such an aggression that they can shake up the whole house. That’s what happens to her many times in relationships. She doesn’t say it earlier when it’s just, “Hey, I feel like it, I want to,” she screams it, “I deserve! I’ve had it, I’ve had enough!” And then she blames him or her or whoever else is around her for not being allowed to say this sooner. No, no. She just doesn’t feel like she can because she first needs to be perfect, have it all done, and then she feels that desire is a reward rather than desire is basically part of her human right. CP: Oh my God, does this sound familiar! I mean, I feel this way too, that perfection. I ne…
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