There was a letter in your column recently that must have been painful for you to receive. I refer to the letter signed God Hates You. I'm sure you're no stranger to hate mail, but I hope you get fan mail too. But just in case: I wanted you to know that your column means a lot to me, and I love your bluntness, openness and honesty. It is comforting to see a pragmatic, funny and, for the most part, compassionate voice in print, especially when it comes to something that so many are as willfully ignorant about as sex.
You Do Good Work
A lot of people wrote in after reading GHY's letter. Most wanted to reassure me that God does not, in fact, hate me. And most, like YDGW here, assumed that GHY's letter must have hurt my feelings. I want to thank everyone for your kind words — and I mean that sincerely — but someone telling me that God hates me is about as hurtful as someone telling me that the Blue Fairy thinks I look fat in these jeans.
As for fan mail, I get my fair share. But I don't typically run fan letters because I've found better ways to pleasure myself. I am, however, going to make an exception this week and run a few letters from satisfied Savage Love customers. Not because I like having sunshine blown up my ass — I prefer to have other things blown up my ass, thanks — but because we know GHY is out there reading, and I'm thinking letters from people who've found my advice useful will annoy him way more than letters from people who wanted to let me know that God loves me. So this one's for you, GHY …
I am a 21-year-old straight girl, and I wanted to thank you. Reading your column over the years has made my sex and love life so much better than it ever could have been without your fantastic advice. I've recommended your column and podcast to friends having relationship and sex troubles, and they all come back to tell me how much your advice helped them.
Thanks for your advice about the "death grip" and the damage men can do when they grip themselves too tightly while masturbating. At age 48, I have never had an orgasm with a partner from intercourse or oral or anal sex. I followed your advice, lightened my touch and started using my left hand (I'm right-handed). Any time I was tempted to revert to the death grip, I squeezed my thumb and index finger together, forming a ring. This managed to fool my death-grip conditioning without increasing the pressure. It took a while, but now I'm able to come from lighter stimulation! Thank you!
Beautiful Orgasms Beat Odds
I tend to be insecure, and I tend to tell the wrong joke at the wrong time. The one area in my life where I'm not insecure, however, is in the bedroom, and it's almost entirely thanks to your column. I'll kick myself repeatedly for saying the wrong thing to a girl, but if I don't perform to the best of my abilities one night, I can let it go. I know that not being 100 percent straight doesn't make you bi or gay, so there was no identity crisis when I questioned my sexuality. Most importantly, I know how to ask and I know how to give.
Thanks, Dan. If politicians want to get serious about reducing the amount of abortions, teenage pregnancies and divorces in this country, they should hire you to draw up a national sex-ed curriculum.
Grateful Straight Boy
Thank you for saying some kind words about "conveniently located and economically priced sex workers" in your column. I agree that they deserve more gratitude and respect. I am a successful, decent-looking professional and a widower with three kids. I don't have any trouble getting dates. However, in my experience, dates either turn into relationships that I don't have time for or long conversations that I don't have time for about how I don't have time for a relationship. So once every couple months or so, I see a professional. I would like to tell your readers that they shouldn't feel bad if they are seeing pros. They should enjoy it for what it is, which is a great time with a pretty girl — well worth the money.
Prefers Sex Workers
I had been reading your column for years, and each time you told someone to DTMFA, I wondered why the people sending those sad letters needed your advice at all. Couldn't they see that they were miserable? Then one day I realized, while reading your column, that I could have authored one of those DTMFA letters.
It's now three years since I dumped the motherfucker. I started over in a new city. It was overwhelming. But this weekend, I was lying in bed with my new boyfriend and thinking about my life. It is so NICE to have someone who isn't horrified that I like porn, who listens to my fantasies and likes to try new things, who appreciates my cooking, who doesn't pout when I beat him at video games and who tells me I'm beautiful.
I want to thank you. I was in denial, and your column was my wake-up call.
Content Lady In Toronto
You're welcome, one and all. Next week, back to the screaming, yelling, recriminations, freaks, fetishes and fuckwits.[email protected]