“Back in 2006, when I was 24, my life was cozy and safe. I had just been promoted to associate editor at the publishing house where I’d been working since I graduated from college, and I was living with my boyfriend, Henry, and two cats in a grubby but spacious two-bedroom apartment in Greenpoint, Brooklyn,” Gould writes, but the rest of her story, all 8,000 words of it, is a drawn out and oddly detailed story of her ascent to success as the co-editor at Gawker, the immensely popular pop culture and snark blog that seems a strange and somewhat sensationalistic choice for the NYTimes Magazine.

You see, the game in this story, like it so often is in the media, is shame and repentance, with the pretty maid, lower lip trembling, visibly upset. By 2007, you see, things were not so rosy. As Gould tells it, while she was experiencing great visibility and perhaps success at Gawker, she also began to experience an uncomfortable degree of anxiety and even panic attacks as she, ever more visible, pandered to the crowd by playing on her sexuality, whoring out her dating life, and transforming herself into an ambitious snark-mistress hottie/link whore.

Enter regret, soon to be followed by remorse.

You see, while the innocent reader might think Gould was trying to trade on her notoriety and success in the form of a TV show, book deal, editorship or some other of the spoils that previous Nick-Denton-touched writers like Jessica Coen, Elizabeth Spiers, and Choire Sicha had achieved, she’s writing this long article and painstakingly detailed article to share the reality that her own behavior—what she dubbed “oversharing”--was making her literally sick. Sick to her stomach, sick of writing, sick of life.

Writing about the end of this era, when she’d left Gawker, but was still trading on her personal life to get attention, and yet growing increasingly uncomfortable with her ways, Gould writes: “I slumped to the kitchen floor and lay there in the fetal position. I didn’t want to exist. I had made my existence so public in such a strange way, and I wanted to take it all back, but in order to do that I’d have to destroy the entire Internet. If only I could! Google, YouTube, Gawker, Facebook, WordPress, all gone. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for an electromagnetic storm that would cancel out every mistake I’d ever made. “

Poor Emily Gould! And lucky New York Times Magazine!

Is there truly any less foolproof way to sell the Sunday issue that to get huge viral buzz from a damsel in distress story played out in that most modern of locales, the blogsphere?

Call it cynical on my part, but I can just see current NYTMag editor Gerald Marzorati looking back over the upper-middle class waif stories (and media sensations) of Joyce Maynard and later Elizabeth Wurtzel and wondering if Emily Gould’s sob story of error and reform would generate the same page views and buzz those two highly manufactured heroines achieved.

While much of the media criticism and the consumer comments have focused on Gould’s narcissism and opportunistic use of her beauty, sexuality and position, and the aggressive marketing of her subsequent prettily teared up regret, no one has talked much about the cold-blooded cynicism of the Times in assigning and publishing what is just the latest incarnation in an ongoing series of sensational stories by attractive young women who struggle.

Reading Gould’s accounts of trading online barbs with a former boyfriend (who outed their relationship in a much-discussed piece in the NYPost), I am reminded of nothing so much as articles the New York Times Magazine had previously published--notably Joyce Maynard’s revelations that she wrote to JD Salinger, went to his farmhouse and then spent some time as his much younger sweetie, and Elizabeth Wurtzel’s revelations of her life as a suicidally depressed Harvard hottie and girl about town.

As a blogger who has long been interested in issues of privacy and identity, and as a writer about sexuality and relationships who has sometimes had a difficult time managing privacy in talking about my own life (and respecting others’ desire not to be portrayed), there’s no way I can’t spark to this essay, and feel respect and compassion for Gould’s struggles. And yet, at the same time, as a person with some life experience and history, I also can’t help feeling that running this story amounts to some editor at the Times taking a calculated, sensationalistic assessment of Gould’s looks and persona and deciding to put that kettle to boil as a way to make the paper of record seem hipper, more relevant, and a place where buzz happens (yellow journalism be damned.)

Or, to put it another way, as much as I am uncomfortable with the ways these writers describe how each of them acted in the pursuit of fame, fortune, audience and approval, I am more uncomfortable with the Times’ consistent publication of stories—like Emily Gould’s—that pretend to discuss high brow issues, but are really just sensationalist reads that give Sunday magazine readers a chance to be sexually titillated voyeurs.
Given that half the known universe has read this piece, what are your thoughts on it? In particular, can you please share your views on whether or not Gould is crying wolf one more time, whether you scorn her behavior or feel compassion as she regrets her mistakes, and whether you feel white middle class privilege is central here in that she’s pretty, privileged and talking about her love life?

Comments, please!

RELATED POSTS
There’s a ton of commentary in the blogosphere on Gould’s piece, including the following, all worth a read. Here’s a bit to check out:

Gawker: We are all Emilys
Commentators Cassandra and TheDismal Science, elegantly debate whether Emily Gould’s self-obsession reflects her own personality or her entire generation’s narcissism.
“ And none of this is as bad as the fact that her writing, initially, seemed genuine, raw, and destined for something larger. Instead, she's already hooker her perpetual media motion device meager dark energy of her "persona" and doesn't seem to be concerned that, absent intervention, the height of her journalism career might be the time she dueled her ex-boyfriend's article with her own.

Huffington Post, Rachael Sklar, Emily Gould, New Gloss on an Old Story
“It's the NYT's call, to be sure, but I can't help thinking they got snowed; it's the third magazine piece on Gawker, and the second on the star-cross'd Gould-Stein hookup.”

Illuminea, Miriam Schwab: Emily Gould, Gawker, and privacy vs. publicity on the web
“Her piece is fascinating and disturbing, and raises a lot of questions about the boundaries we set up and break down between our real-life identities, and those of our online personas.”

sweet rickey: a line in the sand
“Can't we use the internet as a tool of our own self-defense, to build a presence and image that is under our control, rather than having it only be used as a weapon against us, to steal or manipulate our identities? Like it or not, privacy is being redefined in the 21st century, and having a controlled internet presence which represents you and can be referred to as a tool is one way to use the technology in a constructive, rather than destructive way.”

Erica Perez: Fish out of water--NYT story on blogging, overexposure and, well, the world today
“The comments were the most interesting part. By Wednesday evening when I read the story, it had more than 800 comments, 90% of which were scathing, criticizing Gould for being a narcissist, an idiot, a bad writer and a horrible person, and taking the NYT to task for running the story so prominently when, for example, people are suffering in China and Iraq.”

Megan’s minute: Emily Gould: A Blogger More Than Exposed
“ But what I didn't get was a genuine sense of where she was in the world and what her aspirations might be based on the experiences in those ten pages.”

Megan McArdle, asymmetrical information: the saga of Emily gould
“Gawker both expanded her horizons and terribly limited them; from the perch of her overflowing inbox, she could see everything in the world (or at least Manhattan). Yet quickly enough she became the only thing she cared about within it. The entire city of New York mattered only insofar as it was a reflection of Emily.”

Green Sparrow Knits: If you have the strength….
“Why in the name of all that’s sacred, would a responsible adult, who has already damaged a relationship by blogging, do the very same thing over again? It’s refusing to learn, and that I do not have sympathy for, no matter how melodramatically it is phrased.”

Woman of experience: The online Hotel California
“The panic attacks became more frequent and the poor thing 'lost the will to blog' - a phrase for our self-obsessed times if ever there was one. Unfortunately she hadn't lost the will to write: somewhow this deeply damaged young woman, living on a knife edge, managed to come up with 8,000 words for the New York Times for which we can only admire her courage and fortitude.”

Cherries on Top:Emily Gould, SuperBlogger: A Cautionary Tale
“But I’d shrivel up with embarrassment if I knew that certain family members, co-workers, random acquaintances and any stray cyber stalkers had a direct line into my day-to-day life, loves, prejudices, foibles and spasmodic idiocy. I certainly wouldn’t e-mail a childhood classmate, as Emily Gould reportedly did, stating, I started a blog about my sexual exploits.”

Whether it was those 100+ readings and re-readings of Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange land between 6th and 11th grade, the tight knit tribe of friends Seth, Tandy, Rieve and I formed as Bard college students, or the joyous family holidays, overflowing with relatives and friends that my Mom and my sister so eagerly engineered, I’ve always celebrated friendship—and never been a person with just one “best” friend. Instead, I’ve seen friendship as a series of connections, a network, with a few people very close to me whom I see often, and then others, bounded by proximity, availability or compatibility, whom I see less often but still relish and value.
So now that I’ve just moved out of my apartment, put everything in storage, and am about to drive off to spend three months in a new place with a friend who’s become my business start-up partner, reflecting on friendship’s form factors seems to make good sense.

On one hand, I am mourning the diminishment of time in which I will see A and BJ in the next few months; on the other, I am grateful to be moving towards Lisa and Amy, and curious about the new people I will meet and befriend.

In anticipation of these changes, and with the sincere observation that Joe Cocker knew what he was talking about, some notes on types of friendships and friends that have been in my life.

• The soulmate and/or the best friend: Male or female, similar to you or as different as can be, this is the person who sees, accepts and loves your true self in all its flawed and brilliant glory. And when you screw up, they let you make amends.
• The lover: Erotic friendship has its own special gloss, so are you surprised that the lover friend creates feelings that are sensual, yummy and warm?
• The buddy: Not as taken for granted as an old shoe, and perhaps not always as simpatico as a soulmate, the buddy nevertheless offers absolute enjoyment, safety and trust. Some who never cares which pair of shoes you have on.
• Activity friends: Whether it’s hanging at a Web 2.0 conference, or playing tennis, going wine-tasting, or doing a charity project, activity friends share a bond based on specific mutual interests. I’ve had some activity friends who’ve become close personal friends, and others where an annual dinner at BlogHer feels just about right.
• Affinity friends: Affinity friends are activity friends who share a specific worldview or ethos, so think of them as a variant of the above. My “sex blogger friends” (think Viviane, Rachael and Audacia, among others) and I share an affinity for showing women can be empowered and sex-positive, regardless of any age; my friends Mary, Salim and Keith share my passion for micro-formats, data portability, and reflecting on identity and attention online. Again, these affinity friends can become much more than that.

(Note: I’d posit that many work friends and colleagues fit into one or both of these classifications.)

• The co-conspirator friend: Ever have a friend with whom you did more, dared more, felt more? Someone empowering, with a little (or a lot) of edge? This is the co-conspirator friend, someone who incents and inspires you to go a bit further than you might. Co-conspirators can be fun and inspiring, unless, like Thelma and Louise, you take one another to places where the best option, somehow, is to join hands and then jump over the cliff. Sometimes work friends are co-conspirators, sometimes siblings are, but whatever their origin, I treasure the co-conspirators in my life.
• The enabler: So, it’s not a big surprise that not every type of friend is good for you. I’d say the enabler( a close-cousin of the co-dependent), is the friend who always understands just a little too well, and who, for reasons of his or her own, is always there with an understanding comment, an excuse, or (heaven forbid!) a cookie. I’ve known enablers who were (unconsciously) most comfortable with unhappy, in crisis, friends that made them feel useful and important; I’ve also know other enablers who felt so damaged, themselves, they could only bond with people they saw as having equally big problems.
• The co-dependent: I’d like to say I never had co-dependent friends, or I never was a co-dependent friend, but I’d just be lying, wouldn’t I? Truth is, while it’s easy to shrink from the needy friend who wants all sorts of inappropriate moral (and other) support, it’s a lot harder to see yourself being that person. Co-dependents have bad boundaries, asking too much too often, and leaning on friends (again, all too often) for things they should do themselves. This is a hard one, because it’s a mutual dance, but shared co-dependency is not the best format for long-term friendship survival; the needier and less satisfied person inevitably has to move one to someone else who will fill their never-satisfied needed.
• The clique: Is a clique a circle of friends once you’re inside it, or is a clique a group that takes pleasure in its closeness as it simultaneously deflects would-be members? Deciding they were actually a narcissistic clique, I recently took a Twitpack of pals off my twitter stream, realizing that following their antics was actually making me feel bad, not good. (How many self-serving messages about endless afternoons focused on travel, food, and meeting up with X set of friends could I possibly take? I mean, till I hit the why am I reading this anyway wall? Confession: it was, well, a lot.)
• The circle of friends: I’d like to think the circle of friends is different from the clique because it is overlapping and porous. In other words, a circle of friends allows additions who are friends of one or more members, but perhaps not known to the entire group. Circles are held together by connector friends, but intrinsically inclusive and additive (my friends Jeff Ubois and Nina Davis, Sylvia Paul, Christine Heron and Cathy Brooks are masters at this).
• The tribe: Broader than a circle, a tribe is a group of people who may not all be known to each other directly, but identify as friends because a) many of the tribe members share circles, b) the attitudes and values of the tribe are distinct enough that affirming them confers enough membership to make people “friends.” IMHO, tribal feelings and identifications are what often lead bloggers, and users of Facebook and LinkedIn to friend one another. Burning Man is one giant tribe; can you think of some others?
• The network: Unlike a tribe, not everyone in a network shares similar styles, interests or values, and yet, members of a network are strongly connected. Networks, by definition, are broad, so I’d offer former Netscapers, ex-Apple employees and craft or food bloggers as examples of types of loosely formed and organized, and yet identifiable, networks. People in networks are friends in a much looser sense, and yet, they feel connected.

So, after reading this, two questions for my fellow BlogHers:

Which of these types of friends do you recognize in your own life, and what can you share about them?

Why other kinds of friendships do you have that I’ve left out? What can you add?

Related blogs and posts to savor

Irene S. Levine: Fractured friendships

“This blog explores the nature, meaning, and depth of female friendships. While many friendships last a lifetime---others blow up, fall apart or die on the vine. Here you’ll find a sprinkling of advice for women about how to nurture these vital ties, and how to move beyond the hurt and loss when friendships fail.”

Between the lines: Friends vs. relationships
“These women were exactly what I had been missing in the first two years of motherhood. They are over-achieving mothers just like me, career-driven, smart, young and completely, utterly and totally laid-back.
And, 100 percent supportive.
They do not carry fancy bags, but rather talk about science and philosophy and writing as if it's second-nature.”

Poop & Boogies: Friends
“I am blessed that I have a lot of friends, real life friends that I have had since grade school and high school. Sure, I have new friends from work and theater and from different stages in my life, but for the most part the friends that I see and hang out with now are the same people I hung out with for the past 20 to 25 years. Every few months someone hosts a gathering and we all get together.”

Pinks & Blues Girls Blog: My Sister, my best friend
"Sisters. Confidantes. Best friends. Protectors.This is what Audrey and I have been from day one. People who meet us now, as adults, ask us if we have always been so close.
But people who have known us since we were little already know the answer! Audrey has always been like a second mother to me.For a long while (and to certain extent, even today!) I thought she and my Mom were on a two-person campaign to know exactly where I was, and who I was with, at all times."

While I am incredibly excited about what I am about to do, ands think it’s a good decision; aspects of this choice totally fill me with terror. You see, in the past I’ve been an escape artists of sorts, someone who (unconsciously) used work and travel and career momentum to put enough distance between myself and ambivalent relationships to make them bearable.

Unfortunately, that tendency—and the travel—definitely played a role in trashing and/or stressing more than one relationship. Today, three years out from coupledom and five years out from the pain, I truly believe that whether my ex and I should have stayed together so long or not, the separations that my travel schedule imposed were a final nail in the coffin of ever making things between us work better.

Given that realization, I’m approaching my three-month stint in another state with both apprehension and determination. Apprehension about how thin the distance might stretch our bond; determination about not letting things get too bad and playing an active role in maintaining the ties with A.

How does one balance an intense ski-jump and sprint of a summer with maintaining a close relationship in another state? Very consciously, I’d say. Deliberately. And, to be told, with great stubbornness.

In other words, I am not only talking with A about the separation and what it’s going to feel like (sad), but I’m planning ways to make it less difficult. For one thing, A and I have been talking about what will be the hardest about my leaving town. To my surprise, I learned that A’s biggest issue was not that he wouldn’t see me day to day, but that plan we were making together would be on hold. My biggest thing, on the other hand, was that I’d miss the day-to-day time we spent together; I’d miss his presence.

As we talked, we came up with some strategies to address each of our big issues—

For A, I am going to come back to the Bay area on weekends later in the summer so that we can continue to focus together on some goals and projects we share. I’m also going to spend some focused time, long-distance, helping with the planning to make those things happen.

For me, A is going to come and visit a couple of times, and be available via phone and email; he’s also going to drive with me on my road trip, something I really appreciate (hitting the road solo with the dog could be interesting, but having a traveling partner seems so much better).

For both of us, part of what will help manage the loss will be maintaining a sense of forward momentum—i.e.—finding ways to remind ourselves this separation is for a limited period of time.

Here’s some of what we’re going to do to keep things going, despite the distance:

• Make plans to see one another, and keep them. Continuity will help the rough patches, I hope.
• Make plans that keep our longer-term goals going. And act on them.
• Count the days. Yeah, separations suck, but they have end points.
• Agree it’s okay to see other people if that’s what we want. And that we don’t need to talk about it.
• Stay connected: email, phone, IM, notes, photos, whatever….
• Plan for my return and our being together once again.

It will be silly to say I’m not regretting this separation and a bit scared about it.

But it would be dishonest to pretend I don’t think my summer plans are going to be a great experience and a real help for my new project. So, the trick is to try to balance, and if balancing doesn’t work, to hold on for dear life to what we have and what we mean to one another.

Three months. It’s a long time, and yet not that long. A quarter of a year. A lifetime.
Please, if you have strategies for managing seperation that work for you, do share them here.

Meanwhile, some worth a read blog posts on separation follow:

Hola, Isabel!: In which I made a vow to never have a long distance relationship again
"And then I vowed to never ever again have any part in a long-distance-relationship. I made a promise, to myself, and the God’s in Heaven (and my friends and family) to only date boys that lived within 15 miles of my parents."

The tooth fairy’s adventures: Long Distance Relationship Dynamics
“Thankfully, all the hard, awful things about a LDR go away the second I see him waiting for me at the airport. We hug. For a long time. We walk down through the airport terminal, holding hands. He stares at me and smiles. I get all giggly and feel so loved. And those 6 weeks in between seeing him don't seem to make a difference.”

I travel. I write. I think. Sometimes I do all three at once: Do you believe in long distance relationships?

"Long distance relationships work but only when both parties work towards a goal, and there is a compromise to be together again one day. I've said how much I've spent on phone cards, but that's just my side of the story! Talk to hubby and he'll tell you his share of call expenses as well. All in the name of love, couples would do everything and all effort to keep communication going."

Confessions of a sensitive man: long distance rituals
"I never thought that it would be such a challenge to maintain an intense long-distance relationship. My girlfriend and I have had an online friendship for the past few years, grounded by high school memories, and continued intermittently through a 15-year period of platonic banter...yet even if we had built a solid foundation of uber comfort, the stakes have been raised, and now we're in a serious commitment.

Life in continue:Girl in December
"I've come to realize in the months that followed that what we had was neither a NSA relationship, or a friendship or an actual relationship; it was a combination of those 3, that evolved into some amazing moments shared once a week. We were not accountable to each other, we were not monogamous, we were not best friends. It probably would never have been this complicated, if it wasn't because of that feeling that makes us come back for more."

Karenscape: The Story of Jackie & Max

"Four years later, history seemed to repeat itself when Jackie and I married just three weeks before I left for a 15 month deployment to Iraq. Now 6,000 miles apart and 8 months since our last kiss, I love her more than ever before." (Note: This one has a sweet video.)

As both a Sex & Relationships contributing editor, and a divorced blogger, I volunteered to cover this story. I know how shaky the line between inadvertently smearing vitriol over someone you once loved, protecting his or her privacy while writing about yourself, and just going too far in the heat of the moment can be. I’ve had my own struggles with sharing too much and respecting privacy, and yet also know how much I have gotten from others’ honest (if one-sided) accounts of their struggles.

So what was your take on this?

For some readers, so much intimate information just felt like TMI (too much information). The writer at Geeksugar reflected this viewpoint when she said:
"I'm all for catharsis, and these women may get some needed support, but I think they're revealing too much and putting themselves up for close scrutiny.”

Other commentators, not surprisingly, could not read this story, or the bloggers’ posts, without imagining how attached the ex-spouses would feel. Ted Hopton, From Yaicha, spoke about how sharing information can feel like a personal attack: "I was not a blogger when I went through my divorce, and my ex barely knows how to turn on a computer. I think I have enough sense not to blog about my dirty laundry, but it’s a truly scary thought to imagine my ex using a blog to attack me."

However, not everyone reacted in a completely negative way. SV Mom, a BlogHer voice, focused her feedback on imagining what the kids in these families might think as they read these blog posts years from now. She posted the following after the Times story ran:
“Yesterday my husband handed me the front page of the New York Times and said you have to read this article: "When the Ex Writes a Blog, The Dirtiest Laundry Is Aired". The article was about bloggers who post about their divorce details, and two of my favorites Naked Jen and Penelope Trunk bravely spoke up on the subject. I had a chance to meet both of these bloggers live and they as engaging and interesting in person.

What really moved me about the article is that I am a child of a divorced family, so the discussion of the effect of children reading their parent's divorce blog posts is an interesting one. I thought about Penelope Trunk's quote from the article when asked if it is good for children to get information about their parent's divorce in a blog: "It is a generational issue"...we think it will be a big deal, but it won't be for them..”

Can you be a part of my life, an anonymous blogger, commented on this situation when she came across the Time story: "Apparently I was not alone in starting my blog to help me digest the dissolution of my relationship with DTM. Mine was NOT a marriage...not even close, but the experience of the "relationship" was so traumatic to me that I had to find a way to express my thoughts, feelings, anger, disappointment etc. and I turned to blogging.”

For me, this Times piece, and the feedback and comments around it, hit home in a very real way. There just doesn’t seem to be an easy and appropriate way for bloggers to write about their relationship conflicts and not drive their partners crazy. The times I’ve blogged about my Ex, or past relationships, have made no one happy. My desire to share my own feelings has always run head on into other people’s sensitivities, or their wish to not be mentioned at all.

And yet, as a blogger, the temptation to lay it all out there is somehow irresistable. It’s as though, once you make the decision to share, turning your thought processes off becomes almost impossible. And yes, there’s that knowledge that writing your truth may hurt someone or totally piss them off.

So, where do you draw the line?

For Blogher readers—and writers—how do you make a decision about what to share?

Whether to let the person you’re writing about know you’re doing so?

And how you think about the choices you’ve made?

Post in the comments here, please, to share your views as a blogger about writing personal narratives, particularly of the break up persuasion and your tips for your peers on doing it, as much as possible, in a scrupulous way.

Related blog posts:
Naked Jen, Front Page News

"I have received nearly a thousand emails (they just keep coming) and quite a few people have written to ask me what I thought of the article or to tell me what they thought of the article or just to say that they discovered me because of the article and wish they had had something similar when they were going through their own divorce."
and

"When David left last October, he not only left me, he left the dogs, as well. He not only broke my heart, he broke their hearts, too. And while I was a human with a brain that could somehow, someway wrap itself around the fact that he no longer wanted to be a part of my life, Buddha and Stella still have no idea what on earth happened to him?

He just left. Packed everything that he believed was his and disappeared."

What happens when your ex blogs

"The ex that I had written about stumbled across this blog, was very upset about the views that I had expressed and demanded that I removed all content which had any reference to our past relationship. Since my intention with this blog wasn't to upset anyone, I agreed to remove this content which must've taken me all of five minutes to do, seeing as there was so little of it.

It was difficult for me to remove it though, as I felt that the personal content was good for the blog and allowed some insight into what was going through my head at the time."

Someday Soon: Always that girls’ weblog

“I do imagine that if my H saw this blog, that would give him plenty of reason to not be wishy washy anymore about what he wants. Nobody likes to have his or her dirty laundry aired, but that being said what about what I want or need? I am telling him basic things, so we don’t make matters worse, but he is blatantly ignoring anything he can do to help me transition and make me feel more comfortable.”

Casey in Tacoma: On blogging, a Preface
“And as I saw the numbers on my stat counter climb ("four hundred unique hits today?... FIVE hundred??? Who's that in London????"), I realized that it was now a matter of time before someone I knew found it. My parents don't spend much time on the internet, and to my knowledge they still haven't heard about blogging (eBay and email, that's about it), but I have friends, siblings, and cousins... high school friends, coworkers, etc. I was being linked to by at least 40 other blogs (some of them quite popular). I had a following. So, there was only one thing to do:

Shut it down.”

I’ve always been one of those people who wanted to control her own money, and didn’t feel trusting about sharing. Control issues, you know? Even when I was married, it took a while--I think we were married for 6 years before I agreed to share a bank account. Before than, as I recall, my husband and I took turns dividing the household expenses and paid out of our mutual checking accounts. Keeping your own money just seemed more honest to me, cleaner.

Of course, as time went on, and we bought houses, cars, vacations, schools, a greater part of our finances became merged. And yet, the ex and I both valued—and maintained—a certain independence. During our marriage, we had separate credit cards and almost never looked at one another’s bills; out general agreement was to discuss large purchases (over $150, to start) before we went out and spent the money (of course, shoes were exempt), but for anything smaller, we were on our own.

Needless to say, when I started became single and started dating, the whole issue of who paid for what was, how can I put it, pretty charged. On one hand, I wanted guys to pay for me so I could feel courted and cared for, but then, I didn’t want to feel bought. I wanted men to spend money as a sign of how they perceived my value, but it felt one-sided to allow someone I was going to see more than once or twice to be expected to cover the cost of going out.

And then there was the sex thing, the whole question of what the value exchange was around sex and dating. Did going out with someone and allowing them to pay suggest that after a certain number of dates, you clearly liked them enough to have sex with them? If you paid you own way, or paid for both of your some of the time, were these inevitable assumptions about the value exchange modified enough so that expecting sex wouldn’t be an issue?

And, conversely, if you did choose to have sex with the person, would it then be clear it was because you felt like it, and not our of some sense of obligation and/or gratitude?

It seemed easier, in my dating life, to not always expect men to pay, and in fact, to pay at least half of the time myself as a way to hedge against these issues. Also, after a while, I learned that men weren’t always truthful, as in accurate, about their finances. In reality, when guys talked about all the money they had, and how great their situation was, this was actually courtship behavior. A man could be absolutely broke and yet be telling me he was rich and taking me out for great dinners, movies, concerts, whatever—The male thing was to appear better off, to wine and dine women, to make themselves more appealing in the early stages of a relationship/going out. (Somehow, this male habit to enhance their income seems akin to women’s tendency to reduce either their age, or their weight (or both).

By the time I started going out with A, almost a year ago, I’d been through enough issues with men and money that I realized it was worth talking about early on.

On my second date with A, we starting having discussions about sharing and money and dating, mainly because he, like me, had some questions. Many of his past dates had made less money than he did, and he had picked up most of the going-out costs. In our case, I made as much as A or more. However, as he pointed out, I appeared to be more affluent and middle class than some of his past sweeties—Did I have expensive tastes he possibly couldn’t afford? Was I going to expect him to cover them?

Also, A wanted to know, how did I feel about the idea that maybe I should pay for him? Was having the man pay for everything necessary for me to be comfortable in a dating relationship?

Fortunately, I’d already given these questions some thought.

I said that I liked being taken out, but I didn’t need a man to pay for me all the time. In fact, since I had a good job, I expected I’d take him out sometimes. However, especially in the early stages, since being taken out was important to me, I’d prefer to let him set the pace on what we could afford—and I especially didn’t want to get into a situation where—since we were both free to see other people—sharing costs with me meant he’d then be much more generous with someone else (May as well say what you really want, eh?)

Those were basically the rules we followed as we started to go out. As our relationship evolved from on-going dates to regular weekends a deeper commitment, the approach has not changed, but the, way we keep track of who spends what has evolved. Without getting intense about it, we each keep a loose tally of who’s paying for what, with the idea that ultimately, the fairest split is a 60/40 based on current income.

What this means, pretty much, is that, on a weekly basis, we switch back and forth in spending on everything we share in common--groceries, activities, entertainment—but we don’t pool money to cover costs. And we don’t get into judging how we spend money outside of where we intersect; A can buy as many comic books, mix tapes, books and candy bars as he wants, not my business.

Of course, I know that one of the reasons our financial relationship works is because we have such good boundaries around money. I worry about what it might be like, going forward, if we move in together, and start pooling money to share expenses for housing, utilities, etc. Right now, I don’t need to have any opinions about how A spends his dollars because the things we want to do together aren’t that expensive. And yet, I have to hope we’d handle sharing more expenses in the same matter of fact , fair way we’ve handled money and dating so far.

Is sharing, spending, and saving money an issue in your dating life?

If yes, what are some of the problems you’ve faced? How have you over come them? Post in the comments, please.

Sex & Relationships: Blog posts worth a read

Pause, Jory des Jardins: The Relationship Chronicles: The ROI of Love

“I find myself in the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. We are constantly assessing our preferences, competencies, and finances and shouldering what's fair, throwing out the spreadsheet when it comes to intangibles like making each other smile. But, when I move out of the warmth of good intentions and am sitting with my accountant, or with my divorced friends, the question remains: How do you define proportions?”

Mistress M: This I have become

“And something happened when I got married. Something very important got changed when I stood in the alter and said my vows.
The courage, the guts, the balls, the independence went out the window. Because I wanted the marriage to work. Because I wanted my daughter to have a father. Because I needed to prove to the world that I was indeed capable of making the right decision.
What I failed to realize is that I am all of those things. I am capable of being all of those things. And I should not ever do attempt any of those things by depending on another person. Because the other person my not have my needs on their agenda.”.

Variety is the Spice: The Sad Reality of My Life

“I have come to the unfortunate conclusion that the primary reason I am such a happy person is because I am single. Yikes! That’s a scary statement coming from a young person such as myself. Will I ever mature to the point of accepting another person into my life? Or am I so scarred from my past 5 year relationship that I will never ever want to give up a part of myself again? OR, am I just in the wrong relationships all the time and maybe there is still a shred of hope that I won’t die alone and unloved on this earth? (sidenote: this pertains only to marital love. my friends and family love me to death!) It’s been two years since I broke up with NM, and the thought of having to give up my Sunday afternoon to sit inside and watch sports still makes me nauseous.”

Funky Brown Chick: First time every give away

“I’m clothed, sheltered, not without food and occasionally fucked well. I have a laptop, connections to great editors, and healthy fingers that type. And, not to mention, I have active dating and social lives that include amazing, warm, interesting, caring and supportive friends and lovers. If that’s not success, what is, right? Besides, I’ll send myself to the looney bin with Britney Spears if I spend too much time thinking about all this shit. I’m doing everything I can to ensure a stable income flow when my current contract runs out. That’s all I can do.”

Bonus links: Photo slide show from Sex 2.0
A bunch of friends and sex positive bloggers I like all convened on Sex 2.0, a new conference in Atlanta—Viviane, Rachael, Elizabeth Wood--and these are some of the pictures.

It strikes me that this same kind of dichotomy between what men and women want and their attitudes toward it also exists when it comes to sex. I’ve heard more than one man say things like “You know, I love (name of partner), but I also like variety,” while the women I know seem more focused on how to improve the core relationship they’re having than on describing how or why they like to fool around.

My older (like late 30s and above) women friends mostly describe sex as a form of connection, anything from a manifestation of deep intimacy, passion and love to a bonding between friends. The younger friends—35 and below—talk about true love and real romance, but also cop to the occasional (or the regular) booty call.

So ladies, I put it too you—is okay to have sex with someone just because it’s fun? And—in the spirit of eating your own dog food (ouch)—do you? Have sex sometimes just because it’s fun? (And if you’re one of those married, monogamous ladies out there in BlogHer land reading this, just shut your ears, please, while we talk trash a bit.)

At my advanced age, and as someone still thinking through the next steps after a long marriage (and divorce), I’m still debating whether I’d give a true or a false to the following statements:

• An adult can decide to have sex with whomever she wants to without being a slut
• Sex can be a pleasure people share without the expectation of other commitments
• If it feels good and it doesn’t hurt anyone, why not just do it?
• It’s okay to have sex because it’s fun

However, in looking through the blogosphere to see what others said, I didn’t find much. There were pretty much no bloggers I ran across who proclaimed that for them; recreational, feel-good sex was the appetizer, the dessert and the main course. As much as some folks define themselves as feminist and sex-positive, or bad girl and slutty, there weren’t too many women out there visibly celebrating the job of getting it on just because it felt good, they were in the mood, or someone they liked was willing, available and right there.

Does lack of these types of posts relate to the Madonna/whore dichotomy, or the fact that celebrating women’s sexual appetites is threatening to the established order? Or is it that too many of us, especially those on the farther side of 35, have been trained to not think about pleasure as something that can be separate from relationships (Is another way to say this that sharing pleasure can be a form of a relationship?)

Or is it that, for all the talk about being sex positive, ethical sluts, and sisters doin’ it for themselves, most women don’t think of sex as something that can just be fun?

I’d welcome readers comments about sex and fun; both fun as a part of sex within an ongoing relationship and/or deep commitment, and fun as something on a more casual basis. Post here please, and state your piece.

Related blog posts to note:

Ever so slightly obsessed: Sex is fun; play with it
"While I'm not hugely kinky myself, I was immediately attracted to the language used in these writings. They talked about doing 'scenes', about trying out 'roles', and the most common term they used for what they did (which is after all not exactly 'sex' as that word is traditionally used, as it doesn't necessarily involve the genitals), was 'playing'.
Even at that tender age I thought this was a pretty neat way of thinking about it. There seemed to be a sense of fun and theatrics built in to the language itself, which had a great appeal to me. I loved the idea that you could just try things, that you could (in a safe environment) play with ideas and sensations and power, explore what pushes your buttons and delight in it, and then go back to normal."

Reassigned time: I’m being reluctant to call myself a sex positive feminist
"The fact of the matter is, I'm only regarded in relation to my attitudes to sex or sexual representation because I'm a woman. And that's fucked up. And so no. I don't want to be seen or judged because of my interest in sex or because of how I evaluate its representation. And I don't want my feminism to depend on how I evaluate sex either. For me, feminism allows me to think about what I want to think about. And I shouldn't have to choose a label within that - "sex-positive" or "anti-porn." The fact of the matter is that I'm more complicated than that. All women are. All people are."

The pervocracy: What feminism really means to me
"Along with releasing women from the necessity of acting ladylike (while preserving the option!) comes releasing men from having to be manly. For every woman who hides her sexuality so as not to be a dirty slut, there's a man who actually doesn't lust for everything with legs and a low BMI but would be a total pansy to admit it. Feminism is about freeing people from the restrictions of gender."

For me, this has been a powerful experience (and a scary one). At the same time that I am telling myself that the discussions about the disagreements we have are positive and show us how to communicate better with one another, I am also scared that A is going to decide I am either a) a complete bitch, or b) no fun at all and therefore either love me less or just run off.
And yet, at the same time, I am also convinced, despite my fears, that these arguments are valuable. Very valuable.

You see, the time I spend with A right now is a set of great experiences in the present, but it is also learning for the future. Right now, although we’re mostly living together, we each have our own spaces; if we take the step of getting a place together, they’ll be no other place to which to retreat. The arguments and disagreements we have now, uncomfortable as they are, give us a chance to smooth out some rough edges out before we taken an even bigger step and mesh our lives together.

So, you ask, what do we argue about--and what am I learning from these tussles?

1. We have different ways of discussing ideas
A’s an idea guy, smart & articulate; for him, discussing ideas and possibilities is as necessary as breathing. If thinking were competitive chess, he’d be a grand master of ideas. This means that A likes to talk things over in detail, brainstorm, and examine all the possibilities--unfortunately, what we’ve discovered is that this joyful exploration is something I sometimes don’t enjoy and actually shut right down.

You see, I’m both a writer and a former corporate person/executive type. The former means I like to let ideas rattle around in my brain and marinate before I share them; the latter means there are moments—not always, but sometimes, where my response to the opportunity to discuss an idea is a flat, “No, that won’t work,” or a less abrupt “I don’t care for that idea.” Together, these mean I’m not always as open and willing as A t has the more discursive “what if” conversations. I tend to take most discussions seriously and somewhat literally so A’s musings on what life would be like if I did X or built a product like Y often lead to tension on my part, not the cool, engaged discussion A hoped we’d have.

(Confession: Talking this one out with my sweetie has been kind of painful, because I didn’t like hearing truths like “You’re listening to this like I work for you and you’re supposed to answer yes or no,” and “When I try to talk to you about my ideas, and you’re so literal, it makes me feel shot down” as part of exploring why our talks turned tense as A veered into speculations about my life and/or my areas of “expertise”. On the other hand, hearing A share some feeling others have expressed before (ouch!) made me realize that I needed to be sensitive to this tendency in myself; if I want to have open discussion, I have to silence that impulse to be the “executive” and make quick decisions—it’s training that fits well on the job, but not well in my personal life.
The discussions we’ve had about our struggles around sharing ideas related to my work and my life have shown me ways I need to loosen up to be a better partner. I’ve also learned that if there’s something I don’t want to talk about, I just need to say so.

2. We have different approaches to time management and being on time
I manage my life with deadlines and schedules. I am a dedicated worshipper at The Church of Being On Time. When it comes to airline travel and work-related events, my promptness can veer from the eager to the fanatical. If someone else is in danger of making me even 30 minutes late, watch out! For A, on the other hand, much of time is relative. His lateness is well known among family and friends, and while it’s something he struggles to improve, it’s an ongoing effort. For me, A’s lateness hasn’t been much of a problem when it’s about what time he arrives at my house, or how he manages his work life, but when it’s crept into work-related events he’s accompanied me to, and/or shared travel plans, watch out!
Arguing this one out has been more challenging, because in my personal life, I really don’t care that much. But when spending time with A affects how I manage my work life, or whether I (might) miss a plane, I turn into Miss Rigid. In this case, much of the work we’ve done has been to clarify our styles around time management. I’ve learned that I need to give A lots of notice if I’m determined we’re going to get someplace by a specific time; he’s learned that being later around certain things makes me nuts (not a pleasant thing to experience.)

As I am writing this, in the backyard of A’s house in the East Bay, I’ve just told him we need to pack up and head to my place in about 40 minutes; the extent to which we’re actually able to keep to this schedule is going to show me how much progress we’ve making in reconciling our different styles around time. (Update: He did fine, and we were right on time.)

3. We have different ideas about what it means to be a partner
A few weeks ago, as we were picking through a discussion about my work options, A told me that his vision of sharing a life together included being able to freely talk things over. “I want to be able to tell you about my work, and hear what your thoughts are,” he said. “And I want to be able to talk together and help you make decisions about what you want to do.”

My first response to such kind words was a kind of horror. This somewhat inappropriate response got me thinking, hard. I decided that truth was, I was scared of having a real partner, and that, difficult as it was to admit, I’d held off in my marriage from being the kind of partner with my X that A was suggesting he and I become. Afraid of being engulfed, I’d kept a distance from my husband for many years so that worrying about being swallowed up would not be a problem. Now, A was asking for a closeness and collaboration with me that I’d need to let go of past behaviors and attitudes to achieve.

Since that conversation, I’ve been acting on faith, letting go of fears and trying to give A the willing and open partner he needs. It’s kind of scary, because I’m used to being defended, but this is the step into the wild I need to take. I’m willing myself to trust A, both because I do and because if I don’t try trusting someone more now, when might it happen?

4. We’re not clear what it is okay to ask for from one another
One of the themes of my relationship with A is this sense that we are better together, forces of positive change and support for one another (and yes, we like each other and ourselves as we are, as well). Only thing is, there never seems to be quite enough time for us to follow through on everything we want to do with and for one another—and the more boring, drier, meat and potatoes self-development and life management stuff seems to fall by the wayside.

For example, though both A and I swore we’d make every Wednesday night be Bill Pay and Deal with Paperwork night, we haven’t do it even once. And those copies we both bought of Getting Things Done are sitting (not together) on some random shelves, the weekly check-ins we promised one another having somehow fallen away.

Is this kind of support something essential or incremental to our life? What if, for one of us, bill-paying night (for example) isn’t just a nice to have, it’s an essential? And what does it mean then if the other one doesn’t seem especially keen on following through and would rather go to the gym, instead? Is this something we can ask one another for? What if it’s not something he wants to give? What if resentment builds up and then?

You get the drift. There’s that stage where shit happens and then you talk things out. In some ways, we’re just getting into the thick of it.

5. We want to put down the baggage and make it work
Mid-life people have history. They have prior relationships; they have families, pets, memories, and things. They have greats loves in their lives that are now vanished. They have relationships they threw away, or messed up, because they didn’t know any better. And, most of all, they have resolutions to learn from past mistakes and do it better when they go round again.

For both A, and me that means we’re a tad hyper-conscious sometimes of not learning from the past and being condemned to repeat it. This means we’ve got anticipatory dread of screwing up this time around and an awareness of how easily we could make that happen.

Isn’t this a great reason to talk everything out?

The relationship I am creating with A was unexpected in my life, and he’s someone I treasure. For me, the fussing, arguing and heated discussions we’ve having are part of the process of growing closer and learning from—and about—one another. In that spirit, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Although there are moments when our tussles are tiresome, discussions in the spirit of learning from and about one another are valuable, and that’s part of what this time together is about, for me.

Readers, what can you share about taking truth—and sharing hard stuff—in an intimate relationship? Whether it’s your partner, play mate, family member or best friend; what tips about authentic communication and how to get it right can you share? Post comments here.

Blog posts to note:

Karalina’s Blog, Here We go again
“Chris doesn’t feel there’s someone else out there who will catch his eye. But he said that if it happens, he really believes it’s not going to unfold for us the way it did for him and Penny and that he feel he can talk to me about it if it happens.

I suppose it wasn’t the most romantic thing for him to say but it was important for me to know. After all, you’d think a girl would want to hear, “Oh, honey, I’ll always love you. You’re the one — no one will ever turn me on as much as you do.” As much as I feel Chris are going to be together for a long time, we’re realistic. You know, shit happens.”

It’s Never Too Late for Love -stories & advice
“…the minute I met Mitch, I could tell he has "the one" potential. Who knows, that gut reaction is no guarantee. But I really encouraged Shellie to please open her heart to this man. She’s attracted to him, he treats her well, they get along, laugh together, and enjoy each other. And he tells her he’d like this relationship to last a long time.

Can she get past the perfection of her ideal image, to be real? Can she open her heart to great guy when she sees one?”

Transgriot: Thinking about my Ex
"Then love barged in and we spent the next two tumultuous years together. The relationship got off to a rocky start because she wasn't honest about being a divorced mother with a teenage child, I didn't tell her about my gender issues and both of us found out about the other's big secret AFTER we fell into bed.

Long story short, two years later the relationship collapsed. When you wake up looking at a woman with a caramel brown complexion so flawless she only wore lipstick and mascara and barely wore makeup, has a curvy 38-25-38 body that allows her to wear a burlap sack and make it look fashion forward and sexy, and you have you own gender issues it breeds jealously."