Joanna Benfield - Three in a Bed - Conversations with a sex therapist

Conversations with a sex therapist

Joanna Benfield

Sex therapists are bound by client confidentiality; for this reason, while the individual clients presented in this book are fictional, the issues they present with are based on my experiences with real clients throughout my time in practice. Names and other identifying details have been changed to protect this confidentiality.

HarperTrueDesire

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperTrueDesire 2016

FIRST EDITION

Text © Joanna Benfield 2016

Cover photo © Shutterstock.com

Cover layout © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2016

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Joanna Benfield asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work

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Ebook Edition © January 2016 ISBN: 9780008144166

Version 2015-11-26

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Contents

Cover

Title Page Three in a Bed Conversations with a sex therapist Joanna Benfield

Copyright Copyright Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Prologue Samuel Jia and Hugo Ben Clive and Linda Ian Epilogue Why not try … Why not try … Moving Memoirs eNewsletter About the Publisher Sex therapists are bound by client confidentiality; for this reason, while the individual clients presented in this book are fictional, the issues they present with are based on my experiences with real clients throughout my time in practice. Names and other identifying details have been changed to protect this confidentiality. HarperTrueDesire An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published by HarperTrueDesire 2016 FIRST EDITION Text © Joanna Benfield 2016 Cover photo © Shutterstock.com Cover layout © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2016 A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library Joanna Benfield asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at www.harpercollins.co.uk/green Ebook Edition © January 2016 ISBN: 9780008144166 Version 2015-11-26 Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Prologue

Samuel

Jia and Hugo

Ben

Clive and Linda

Ian

Epilogue

Why not try …

Why not try …

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Publisher

When it comes to intriguing career choices, sex therapist has to be somewhere near the top of the list, slightly below pole dancer, lion tamer and arctic explorer. It tends to elicit a response of surprise, bemusement and curiosity from all who enquire into my profession, accompanied by a fair degree of discomfort and embarrassment. Sex is still a relatively taboo topic in our society, and the idea that someone should choose to spend their days openly talking about it in minute detail is anathema to many people.

Not least of all to my mother. I shall never forget the look on her face when I told her I was giving up a perfectly good career in international politics to train as a sex therapist. An expression of amusement at what she thought was a joke quickly transformed into one of abject horror when she realised that I was serious – swiftly followed by the exclamation, ‘You dirty girl!’

Rather perplexed by the vehemence of her response, I asked her what she thought a sex therapist did. Perhaps shaped by too many evenings spent in front of episodes of the TV series Masters of Sex , which charted the work of the pioneers of sex therapy in the 1960s, my mother, it seemed, imagined that I would be sitting at the end of my clients’ beds with a clipboard, timing orgasms and closely watching their every sexual move. I could understood her concern. Patiently I explained that sex therapy in the 21st century simply involves talking with clients to help them discover and address the psychological causes of their sexual problems. There is no nudity, no touching and certainly no sex. While metaphorically it may seem as if we are climbing into bed with the clients, physically we stay firmly in our consulting rooms, fully clothed. Nevertheless, flustered by thoughts of what her friends and acquaintances might think, my mother decided that she would tell them I was still working in ‘international relations’ or ‘foreign affairs’. These clever euphemisms straddled both my old and new career choices, yet spared my mother the indignity of actually referring to sex.

‘After all, darling,’ she justified herself, ‘you’re bound to see a lot of foreigners in your job. The British would never go to see someone to talk about their sex lives!’

This approach clearly worked well for her for a while, until one Saturday I called her to announce proudly that I was to be interviewed on a well-known national radio programme. I would be talking about why men pay for sex. Clearly flustered by this, she told me in a panic, ‘But you can’t, darling! All my friends will hear – how mortifying!’ It seems that, in middle-class suburbia, having a daughter who is a sex therapist is akin to one’s offspring choosing a life of crime or running away to join the circus.

Despite my mother’s embarrassment at my profession, there are times when her curiosity gets the better of her – usually once her inhibitions have been significantly reduced by the consumption of a glass or two of wine. Our monthly lunches in a French restaurant in London soon became the regular backdrop for mother-and-daughter conversations about sex.

Soon after I had changed careers, we were sitting at our regular table, sharing a mousse au chocolat and finishing up a rather fine bottle of Bordeaux. Having exhausted the usual topics of conversation, such as who was likely to win the ‘Best Garden’ prize in this year’s village competition, my mother leaned across the table and whispered, ‘So, I know it’s highly confidential, but what do your clients talk to you about?’

Somewhat surprised by this sudden turn in the conversation, I was pleased that my mother was finally showing an interest in what I did. Enthusiastically I started to catalogue the common sexual dysfunctions afflicting my clients: erectile dysfunction, premature ejaculation, inability to ejaculate, inability to orgasm, painful sex, loss of desire and sex addiction.