Among the stereotypes that saddle men and women, it's commonly understood that male sexuality is rather, er, straightforward, while female sexuality is complex and shrouded in secrets. Hence, the theory of feminine wiles.
In his recent book, "What do Women Want?," Daniel Bergner aims to peel back the layers of mystery enshrined in female sexuality like a Georgia O'Keefe flower.
What does he find? That yes, women's sexuality is far more nuanced than men's. As one researcher puts it, men turn on like the switch of a single button; for women, there's an assembly of buttons, and we're not sure which does what. Part of that owes to limited research on female sexuality, which Bergner attributes, in part, to the historically male dominated field. He notes, for example, that scientists have only recently realized the broad extent of the clitoris and have yet to clarify the existence of the elusive G-spot.
However, he describes several research efforts underway – many of them led by women – that suggest long-standing assumptions about female sexuality are wrong. Here's the biggie: Monogamy may be more challenging for women than it is for men.
Among several examples, Berger cites research of rhesus monkeys at Emory University's Yerkes National Primate Research Center. Here, the females initiate sex, and when her partner tires, she finds a new one, explains Kim Wallen, a psychologist and neuroendocrinologist who studies the monkeys. Wallen wonders aloud whether women feel this drive but, due to social constraints, "don't act on or even recognize the intensity of motivation that monkeys do," and then answers his question: "I feel confident that this is true."
That theory is borne out in several examples throughout Bergner's book. Landmark cases come from Meredith Chivers, an assistant professor of psychology at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario, who found that women's perceptions of arousal did not match their actual arousal. Using sensors to measure genital blood flow while watching porn, she found that women who claimed to be turned on only by heterosexual images were, in fact, aroused by straight sex, lesbian sex, gay sex and even, to a lesser degree, sex between bonobo monkeys. (Gay and straight men, incidentally, accurately reported their sense of arousal, and the bonobo monkeys did nothing for them.) Another of Chivers' studies found that women became most aroused by stories about sex with strangers, even though they claimed to feel more enticed by the idea of sex with longtime lovers.
Low libido in women as a result of long-term relationships is a point Bergner emphasizes in his book. The dive in drive that can flow from menopause could easily be restored by a new partner, he says, citing Australian research that found an inverse relationship between the duration of a relationship and a women's libido.
"Sometimes I wonder whether it isn't so much about libido as it is about boredom," says Lori Brotto, a Canadian psychologist who supervised the section on female desire in the American Psychiatric Association's latest edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Brotto helps women restore libido through the use of mindful practices and positive affirmations like, "My body is alive and sexual." But her treatments fall short of helping women recover the sense of craving they once felt for their partner. "She couldn't provide that, not without a semimiracle or someone new in the patient's bed," Bergner writes in his book.