Archive for February, 2010

Why Men Stray More than Women (And How to Prevent Cheating)

Friday, February 26th, 2010

It is estimated that 65% of divorces occur  because of an extra-marital affair. And, despite the sexual revolution and the reduction of the “double standard,” more men still cheat than women. Now science shows us why this gender imbalance might exist.

First, there could be a genetic link. Swedish researchers recently identified an “infidelity gene,” which is present in four of 10 men. This gene can explain why some men are more prone to stormy relationships and bond less to their wives or girlfriends. However, it’s important to remember that biology is not destiny. People born with genetic predispositions to say, heart disease or obesity, make lifestyle adjustments that compensate for the negative gene.

Secondly, men may find it easier to cheat because they feel less guilt than woman. A Spanish study recently revealed that the interpersonal sensitivity of men (especially those aged between 25-33) is low compared to women. This clearly could affect a man’s ability to empathize with his partner. The study also showed that men feel less intense guilt and this difference is particularly stark in the 40-50-year-old age group, a group particularly vulnerable to the mid-life crisis affair.

Finally, more men fear emotional intimacy more than do women. Believe it or not, some men find lovers so they can  avoid any real intimacy. Emotional closeness and the expression of vulnerability that goes with it scares many men, so they distance themselves from their wives by cheating on them. At the same time,  they don’t get too emotionally involved with their lovers. This kind of “watering down of the milk” feels safer to some men.

As always, my solution to bullet-proof relationships is to grow a bond through emotional intimacy. To make a relationship  rock-solid, one must move a step or two closer to the bone, and hone some relationship skills. Compassion can be learned. Fair-fighting is a skill. And stonewalling is a killer of all connection. Intimacy is not easy nor painfree. Extreme emotional intimacy and mutual care may involve squeamish feelings of shame, the forced expression of awkward words, an ability to see the ugly in others and still love them, and worse,  the ability to glaringly see the ugly in ourselves and still feel lovable. But the pay-back is pure kryptonite. An I’ve-got-your-back-if-you’ve-got-mine emotional contract that can make your relationship affair-proof.


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Tiger Woods – Listen Up Ladies and Gentlemen!

Friday, February 19th, 2010

I’m weeping as I type this. I am a chick after all. Having just watched Tiger Woods apology to his friends, family, employees, business partners, and foundation beneficiaries, I am simply moved. I am also confused. I am wondering why an athlete in Florida whom I have never met nor seen in public can cause me, a single mother in Los Angeles, to have such a blubbering event.

And the answer is simple. There are few women in America who do not long to hear such words of contrition and kindness from a man, and Tiger is as likely a surrogate for healing as anyone. At some point in their lives most women have been deeply injured by some man’s selfishness whether it was infidelity, or violence, or stingy child support. And here is a man finally doing the right thing. My own waterworks started with his tribute to his wife, Elin, using words like, grace and poise to describe her. There are a couple men in my past who would do well by me if they could form any similar words.

And I hope men listened closely too. This is the kind of role model so many men need. On who stops the buck at his desk and takes full responsibility for his actions. Through Tiger, men can hear first-hand how infidelity is not only a betrayal of trust but an action that reverberates through many relationships. Is one (or sixteen) moments of sexual pleasure really worth the destruction of so much? I truly hope that men who claim to have trouble controlling themselves can learn something from Tiger’s blown-up version of their story.

Because the tides of relationship rules are changing. It used to be that women provided all the sexual boundaries in our culture. Women had far to much to lose by entering into a sexual relationship with a man who might abandon them, impregnate them, contaminate them or disgrace them. Not today. Thanks to feminism, women own their own orgasm and a box of Trojans. They are off to the races. And, as families fall apart — 40% of American babies are born out of wedlock and the rest are vulnerable to a 50% divorce rate — some men are stepping up to create their own sexual boundaries, if only to keep safe their genetic line. I spoke with one such man yesterday, Mark Verge, a happily married guy whose book, “Access to the Boys Club” preaches techniques for fidelity for couples. Mark’s message includes tips for wives to help keep their man satisfied.

For women’s behavior is as much part of our culture-wide problem of unhealthy relationships. I’ve said it before, but let me reiterate: How can we blame our husbands for getting wet on their way home from work, when IT’S RAINING WHORES? The shameless Tiger mistresses who have sought their fifteen minutes by kissing and telling on national television need a serious reality check. Or they need to become mothers so they can sympathize with Elin. Both women and men need to get some control on their sexual energy when families are at stake.

Finally, I want to close by applauding the unsung heros in our culture. Men and women who have been making the sacrifices associated with long-term monogamy because it is the right thing to do — for your partner and for your children. We will all be beneficiaries of your dedication when your kids don’t end up on the public coffers or spreading HIV to us. Thanks for making a commitment to love and family.

As for Tiger, he summed it all up with Elin’s admonishment to him: “The real apology will not come in words. It will come in behavior.” We’re watching, Tiger. You’re off to a good start toward healing. And to some of my ex-lotharios: I’m waiting by the phone.

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Love is in the Air?

Thursday, February 11th, 2010

Virgin America Airlines is Using a Hip, New Technology to Make Bi-Coastal Travel Anything but Banal.

Somewhere between Los Angeles and New York, I rose from my seat  — 4F. Praying that my too-high Prada boots could master the light bumpiness, I strutted toward the bathroom at the back of the plane. Amidst the shagg-alicious purple and rose lighting that gives Virgin’s main cabin an air of a James Bond movie (circa 1968) I neared the last ten rows of seats. It was then that my peripheral vision detected a few heads bobbing up and curious eyes shooting my way. I wondered who was “ace” in 20D, and “hef” in 24D, or if “elbubble” had logged off before she learned I was walking to the back. And what did the person who had bought me the drink look like?

I should tell you that this attention has nothing top do with my looks, per se. This silent, though awkward, introduction was a direct result of a seat-to-seat chat group chat that I had initiated. It is Virgin’s latest bid to fully secure the attention of that coveted demographic — young, monied, tech-friendly, hipsters. And, let me tell you, it’s kinda cool.

I would argue that I am the bravest extrovert on the plane, maybe on the planet. Many people are a little too shy to barge onto a strangers private screen mid-air with an invitation to chat, but not me. I looove new tech and I love to watch how people relate, so this flight was a perfect match for my two loves. The start was inauspicious. Using the handheld keyboard and the touchscreen on the seat back in front of me, I choose a screen name, “Doctor” and randomly selected twelve seats on the plane to “invite” into my chat room. I swallowed my pride as most declined my invitation but a few stayed. As we started chatting they invited others whom they wanted to get to know. At one point we realized that “David” in 24D was the only dude amongst a gaggle of gals so he cheekily changed his screen name to “hef.” The conversations roamed from books, to professions and onto to nightspots in our destination city. A really nice chat-mate named “ace” even took drink orders and bought a round for the group. When the flight attendant surprised me with the drink, it came with a handwritten note from “ace” that had been written on scrap paper that was the back of a screenplay. This launched us into a conversation about screenwriting. “ace” prefers horror. I prefer Rom-coms.

Soon other chat rooms began to open simulteneously. Private ones. Some adventurous text-fiends broke away to create more personal conversations å deux. One young man flirted and flattered me in chat room number four by calling me Mrs. Robinson. This is exactly the kind of thing Virgin hopes its passengers will do. Make flying feel like an opportunity to meet and mix rather than a tiresome bus ride.

As I waited in the back of the plane for a bathroom vacancy, I chatted with a flight attendant about seat-to-seat chat. She says it’s becoming wildly popular and is always amazed that on every flight, some chatting duo eventually meets at the back of the plane to get a visual and exchange the digits. Our conversation was overheard by bathroom line eavesdroppers who rushed back to their seats to log on. By the time I returned to my seat “hef” had some serious competition in chat room two. And the young man in the private chat-room, the one who fancied himself “the graduate,” had eyeballed my aisle walk and texted me his real-world email address.

Oh, and did I fail to mention that love isn’t the only thing in the air on Virgin America?  Business networking happens to. A friendly young film executive dropped by my seat to give me her card after seeing me chat about a screenplay I am working on. Love and money. Virgin America, you are on to something big here.

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“Committed” Isn’t Committed to Children

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

The Author of “Eat, Pray, Love” makes child-free sound like cancer-free in her now book.

Let me start by saying that most American female readers, myself included, l-oo-ve Liz Gilbert. Her bestselling book had us eating, praying, and loving along with her as the author recovered from a painful divorce by traveling the world. It was our ultimate female escape — four months eating through Italy, four months praying in India, and four months doing charity work and falling in love in Indonesia.

But Liz, I have a bone to pick with you. In your new book “Committed,” readers are not only forced to hold your hand while you overcome your commitment-phobia about marriage, we also are expected to collude with your distain for motherhood. Granted, as the studies bear out, many traditional families did place a “disproportionately cumbersome burden on women” (your words) but really, Liz, has every mother raised healthy children by “having to scrape bare the walls of her soul to do it?”

You use your grandmother as an example. Saying she had a wonderful life as a young woman working as someone else’s maid and buying an expensive coat and fancy shoes. Yet she had to trade those amazing freedoms for motherhood. In your explanation of her hardship, you try to get readers to believe that the lowest point in her life was having to cut up that coveted designer coat and make coats for her children. Even after interviewing granny you are still not convinced that she really means it when she says that those years with small children were the happiest in her life. Has it ever occurred to you that your Grandmother joyfully transformed her old coat because that security blanket was no longer necessary? And, I’ll bet she was quite proud of her handiwork too.

We mothers understand your grandmother. Motherhood means losing your mind and finding your soul. Any woman who has spent countless nights walking a fevered child, or days-on-end calming toddler tantrums in public, or years of giving love while still buying the bacon, knows her own power in a measurable way. There is no greater way to build a woman’s self-worth than to allow her body to manufacture a human and to nurture it to its greatest potential using her beautiful brain and ingenuity. Motherhood is a quiet, Godly confidence that says, “Don’t mess with me world. I make PEOPLE.” You won’t know that Liz, because, as you tell us, your books are your babies and your babies are your sister’s kids, whom you can return, just like a library book. (No offense to Aunties everywhere. We mothers are grateful that you are there.)

Elizabeth Gilbert you are a smart, well-researched writer whose prose and metaphors make me smile with every paragraph, but I have some news for you. We are in a post-feminist age where women are more free than ever to be truly feminine if they so desire it. To create peer relationships with more equitable division of labor, to build careers with creative hours that compliment motherhood, or to stay at home and get the job done full-time because that gives us pleasure. Your voice is one of a dinosaur feminist who makes child-free sound like cancer-free. You say. “Childbearing and child rearing consume so much energy that the women who do become mothers can quickly become swallowed up by that daunting task — if not outright killed by it.” Really, Liz, killed by it?

I will be the first one to tell you that motherhood gave me life. The joy I get from watching my children grow pales in comparison to that great big paycheck I used to get, or my former collection of fancy shoes. Every day I marvel that my kids are still breathing, have full stomachs, creative brains, and are bubbling with self-esteem — all because I did something right. And, lest you think that mothers have less power and therefore less voice, independence, or sense of accomplishment, remember that fabulous saying from the South, “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” This speaks to the power of woman as the ultimate leader in the household. You do allude to this power once in “Committed” with a description of your own Mother. “She’s subtle and graceful enough in her method of control that you don’t realize she’s doing it, but trust me: Mom is always steering the boat.” But then, because of your own fears or inadequacies, a few pages later you dismiss your Mother’s power by telling us she is now happiest that all the kids are out of the house.

In “Committed” you tell us that your goal is a “Wifeless” and “Motherless” marriage. Yikes. Sounds like two guys shacking up to me. Note to Liz: Guys aren’t a whole lot different from children. When the going gets rough, you might want to try nurturing the dude a bit. Be prepared to put on a motherhood hat sometimes.

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Helping One Haitian Family

Sunday, February 7th, 2010

Robert Ettienne’s voice is soft, his demeanor shy. He speaks carefully, with introversion that nearly denies a lyrical Haitian-French accent. He has lived in Los Angeles for a decade and works at the Victor-Benes bakery in Marina del Rey. It is ten p.m. and his shift will start again tomorrow — Sunday — at 5 a.m. But he will speak tonight as long as it takes.

He stands uncomfortably in my living room with his sister Jeanette. Both in their thirties, I had invited them to an intimate dinner fundraiser in their honor. Neither were accustomed to such fanfare. As a customer of the grocery store where Jeanette works, I learned that her family had lost everything in Haiti and were now barely surviving in a park in Port-au-Prince. I wanted to do what little I could.

Robert lives the classic immigrant story. The eldest of five children, and the only son, family responsibility has exiled him thousands of miles away, while he takes portions of an already pithy paycheck and sends it to the poorest country in the western hemisphere. Three years ago, Jeannette joined him and works bagging groceries in Gelson’s Market, the grocery store that houses the bakery where Robert works. She makes $8.50 an hour and is only guaranteed 24 hours a week. Each week, she begs to take anyone else’s shift.

Last night in my home, I queried the two before my group of friends and friends-of-friends. As we stuffed our bellies with pasta and wine and threw twenty dollar bills in a glass vase bearing the Ettienne family name, some horrific facts haunted the room. Start with this one: At the very moment that we communed in abundance, Robert and Jeannette’s three sisters and their fourteen children were under the same moon in a crowded, bug infested, public park with no tent, or food or water. With them is Robert’s sixteen-year-old son, who has now become quite ill. Robert’s only goal for this evening was to raise enough money to buy his son a tent so that he could escape the searing sun and virus-carrying insects while he worked through his flu.

Sounds like a simple goal — A run to an RIE camping store and a Fedex shipment right?– until you remember that no infrastructure means chaos. If this were our family, it indeed would mean a quick run to Target for tents and sleeping bags and an overnight shipment. Not in earthquake devastated Haiti. Where deliveries are impossible because no one has an address. And the black-market for simple living necessities has driven $40 tents into the $300 dollar range. Where those with generators charge $25 just to charge one’s cell phone battery. And water and rice have become the currency that drives people to homicide.

As for the organized relief efforts, the Ettienne sisters have not been beneficiaries. The distribution point is a long, hot walk away, and at least a day’s waiting in line. And then a bag of rice on one’s heads is like a bounty. Without male protection, these mothers are vulnerable to violence.  All three fathers were at work when the quake hit and are presumed dead. Weighing their options, these sisters mostly choose to stay put and pray that their family in American can wire money. There is now a bank in Port-au-prince up and running and able to receive wire transfers.

On Monday, Robert will wire the $1000 that we raised last night. But it will be a temporary band-aid.

The most uplifting part of the evening was the ingenuity of the guests for continued ways to help this family. One man, a builder, offered to build a house for them if we could find  a way to get building materials donated and laborers to help. The one thing not short of these days in Haiti are laborers. Another woman suggested that with so many service providers in the room that we work out a kind of barter-for-charity system. Already I “bought” a facial at a local spa and plunked the money in the Ettienne jar. Another woman is happy to auction off her photography services. There will be more.

Jeanette sat with me by the fire speaking with quiet gratitude late into the night. But I noticed the cracks in her facade. Three weeks of pain is wearing on her otherwise flawless face. From time to time her deep brown eyes welled up as she expressed polite desperation. Clearly her entire being is rocked with terror for her family’s future.

I’m sitting in bed under my cozy duvet this morning as I type this. Wondering who will read these words. Wondering who can help the Ettienne’s fourteen children aged, 2 through 22. Wondering if the babies will get water and food today. And if the fever assaulting Robert’s son will be down this morning. Robert has already been at work for four hours. Toiling in a hot bakery surrounded by food. A cruel joke of fate.

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New Hope for Those Coping with the Death of a Child

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

When I was in graduate school studying depression, I recall with uncomfortable clarity a comment made by my professor. When asked if all depression was curable he nodded, and then added, except perhaps depression associated with the loss of a child. That’s exactly what Stephanie Muldberg of Short Hills, N.J. experienced. In 2004 she lost her 13-year-old son, Eric, to Ewing’s sarcoma, a bone cancer and for four years thought she was doing okay. “I didn’t do a lot during the day, but I managed to get dinner on the table and drive my daughter to her classes. But I was putting on a big show. I was a zombie.”

When her daughter finally brought her sadness to her attention and a friend severed their relationship saying she was “no fun anymore.” Stephanie found  Dr. M. Katherine Shear, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia, who administers a 16-week experimental kind of therapy specifically designed for something she calls. “complicated grief” — acute sadness that lasts for more than six months.

Shackled with survivors guilt and fear of letting go of her precious son, Stephanie’s grief had become a preoccupation that hung out on the background of her day, yet it was also something she had avoided head on.

Dr. Shear’s treatment, a technique borrowed from treatment for PTSD, involves a revisiting exercise that focus on pleasurable experiences with Eric to help reactivate pleasurable memories, memory work sheets, and eventually tape recorded stories about the trauma of his death. She was instructed to play the tapes every day at home as a way to teach her brain how to compartemenalize. It taught her she could turn off sadness.

“My grief became more comfortable. less shocking. It’s like you get used to it. I had been afraid that if I let go of the grief, I would be letting go of Eric. But the opposite happened. I remembered him more and was able to hold onto him as a positive memory rather than a chronic grief.”

The therapy also showed her she could turn on pleasant memories of Eric without feeling guilty. Another part of the exercise involved letting go of survivor’s guilt. Dr. Shear asked her to imagine a conversation with her son and ask him questions she needed answers to. Then she was told to construct his answers. For Stephanie, the questions were simple: “I wanted to know if I had been a good mom. And I wanted to know what he wanted to be in his life. His future.”

Today, Stephanie feels she has her life back. She can experience joy without guilt and have pleasurable memories of Eric without debilitating sadness.

Each year, two-and-a-half million people die and at least four other people are severely affected by each death. For some of these people the pain does not go away and becomes complicated grief, something that Dr. Shear says, it now treatable.

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Kids and Sex on TV. How Dangerous is it?

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010

Lately, I’ve noticed my almost-twelve-year-old daughter closing the door to my bedroom while she watches TV. And the last couple times I intruded, I saw that she was watching an ABC Family show called “The Secret Life of the American Teenager.” The show’s website warns that viewer discretion is advised. I assume that’s because the plot deals with teen pregnancy, premature motherhood, and every kind of relationship dilemma ever — including sex. Yikes!

No doubt about it. Our media is getting more riské every year. And that media is becoming more and more accessible to our kids and teens. In a UCLA study on adolescent sexuality and the media, the exposure rates are shocking. On average, adolescent viewers see 143 incidents of sexual behavior on network television at prime time each week, with far more portrayals of sexual activity between unmarried couples as between spouses. As much as 80% of all movies shown on network or cable television stations have sexual content and even music videos are filled with sexual feelings and sexual impulses. Most disturbing is the fact that the sexual messages on television tend to be shown in a positive light, with little discussion of the risks of unprotected sexual intercourse and few portrayals of dangerous consequences.

But the consequences of sexual activity in the real world are very real. Among adolescent girls in the United States between 15 and 17 years of age, 75 per 1,000 become pregnant each year, a rate two to seven times higher than rates in other industrialized nations. And 25% of sexually active teenagers and 13% of all adolescents between the ages of 13 and 19 become infected with sexually transmitted diseases each year. That’s  3 million cases!

But the million dollar question is this: Is there a link between media exposure to sexual content and adolescent sexual behavior? That’s still up for debate. Some sociologists believe that greater exposure to media in general leads makes kids adopt the values, beliefs, and behaviors that are portrayed, particularly when they aren’t accompanied by scenes with negative consequences. And research on violence in the media backs this up. More violent media leads to more aggression in children.

But sex is different. Sexuality may not be learned through observation the way aggression is. For instance, it’s been found that general exposure to alcohol advertising does not affect a teen’s alcohol use. Yet, if the teens really like the content in the ad — like the music or humor — then it is linked to an increase of alcohol use.

And sexual content? Researchers are still trying to determine what factors in sexual media create premature or unsafe sexual behavior. For now, I plan on sitting through that ABC show with my kid, to explain any negative consequences that the producers fail to highlight.

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