There's an article in New York Magazine that is causing lots of discussion everywhere. On TV talk shows, the news, Twitter, all over the blogosphere. It's about women over 50 having babies. Not adopting. Giving birth.
My gut reaction was "Ewww. Gross!" But then, when I gave it another thought I realized even my reaction is more complicated than that. Because who has the "right" to be a parent can be a very complicated discussion.
Some say NYC's bawdy night club, The Box, is over the top.
How much debauchery is too much debauchery?
This is what New York City's bawdy, burlesque night club, The Box, is grappling over after after a New York magazine feature described the sexual performances that go on inside in graphic detail. All of the above examples are from New York's piece.
A married writer explores the urge to sleep with multiple partners.
Kind of like drinking or driving underage, part of having sex outside of a committed relationship is the thrill that comes with doing something illicit. Cue Tango's favorite therapist Esther Perel and other experts hoping to pull marriage's reputation out from under its passionless, restrictive shell through greater communication and understanding. Weiss quotes one friend who says: “Do middle-aged, married women who are no longer interested in having sex with their husbands expect them to remain faithful?" The response, according to American mores, is "yes," though this is at odds with biology.
Evolutionary biology's poster child should be the transgender man quoted in the article, who underwent a sex change after 50 years as a woman. He told Weiss that since taking testosterone supplements, he's noticed "a newfound ability to completely divorce sexuality from emotional commitments."
Gail Sheehy discusses her marriage to Clay Felker, the first editor of "New York" magazine.
Gail Sheehy discusses her relationship with Clay Felker, the renowned first editor of New York magazine. "This year we will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, a milestone that amazes friends who had to play Rolodex tag with each of us during the 17 years of our turbulent premarital relationship. We were in diametrically opposing stages of life: Clay led a glamorous existence as the editor of New York magazine and the Village Voice, and had to be on the town night after night courting his first love—New York. I was a struggling freelance writer and divorced single mom who wanted to read bedtime stories to my young daughter. I would move into his imposing apartment, try it for a year, move out. I remember feeling as tiny as an envelope slipped under his door marked 'addressee unknown.'"
