Why ‘Write A List’ Is An Insulting Response To Housework Inequality

91% of women with children spend at least one hour a day on housework, compared with 30% of men with kids, the European Institute for Gender Equality shared in 2021.

According to the same data, working women spend 2.3 hours a day on housework, whereas working men spend 1.6 hours on it daily.

These are, of course, only averages; some men will do as much as women, and some more. Additionally, not all domestic labour imbalances will fall along gendered lines (though in most mixed-gender relationships, it’s likely to).

But no matter what, or who, the cause of chore inequality, chances are anyone who brings up being on the more labour-intensive side of it will have heard “write them/me a list!” at least once.

I have grown to despise that advice in relationships where one person is already doing the bulk of the domestic work. Here, we spoke to relationship therapist and author at Passionerad, Sofie Roos, about why I might not be alone.

“Write a list” profoundly misunderstands the nature of domestic inequality

Roos said that, while she understands that the idea aims to “create a fairer share of the home labour, I think this advice in reality fails to address the core problem”.

It creates more work for someone who, by nature of being given the task, likely already does the lion’s share of domestic labour, she said.

“When one of the partners is expected to write a list and manage things, they also get all of the responsibility for the situation in their lap as they then must see what needs to be done, to prioritise and organise, and plan and follow through… [which is a] big workload.

“This tip also tends to add to the myth that (usually) women should just ‘know how to run a home and a relationship’, as if it were a skill you’re born with rather than something you learn and build up together with your partner,” she added.

Plus, Roos said, it adds to the feeling that one partner is “helping” another, implying that household work is inherently one partner’s domain.

And a single list assumes that housework is static, that noticing, judging, pre-empting, remembering, and reacting to changes and unexpected shifts in your household’s needs isn’t a huge part of the mental load.

“That said,” Roos told me, “I think it’s [a] pretty stupid piece of advice that in reality tends to make things worse rather than solving anything between you”.

What should couples do instead?

OK, so Roos agrees that the dreaded list should be off the table. But given that domestic labour inequality is so pronounced, and that at least some of the parties involved probably want to improve that, what should we do instead?

“I think the focus should be shifted… to share[d] responsibility,” the therapist told us.

Instead of assigning a “project manager” role to one partner, she added, “Ask yourselves what’s your shared responsibility, where the two of you can take more initiative and where you can lead, and communicate around what tasks you feel more keen on doing and try to split it between you in a fair way”.

It’s important to find a way to follow up on that, too, she continued, “for example, by sitting down and having a check-in every second week where both of you take a shared responsibility of communicating how it goes, what you can do better or change and what you should keep on doing the same.”

The partner who has historically done less in the home needs to understand why this is important, however, she added.

“To make them understand that, you might need to sit down and have a talk where you honestly explain how it feels to you when they say [things like], ‘Just tell me what to do and I do it’… you’re not their parent, and this dynamic easily makes it feel that way, which isn’t sustainable in the long run.

“And lastly, don’t forget that this is something you’ll need to tweak and adjust with time as life changes… household labour needs to stay up to date with your situation,” she ended.

“Finding the balance is therefore nothing you do through one set solution, but by having an ongoing process around the labour work at home!”

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My Best Friend And I Are Straight Married Men, And We Tell Each Other ‘I Love You’

“I love you,” Doug said to me.

“I love you, too,” I answered before we pushed the red hang-up buttons on our iPhones at the end of our weekly call.

My wife gave me a funny look, as she did weekly, at the affectionate way we always concluded our conversations. I suspect his wife did, too.

Doug has been my best friend since 1980, when we played Little League baseball together in Providence, Rhode Island. His team, which had yellow uniforms, was coached by a rough guy who would line the boys up before every game and whack their groins with a bat to make sure they were wearing their cups.

My team, outfitted in blue uniforms, was sponsored by a social club in the working-class Fox Point section of the city. Our end-of-the-season party was held in the smoky, dimly lit bar of our sponsors, where we sat at chipped wooden tables to consume our sodas and pizza.

A couple of regulars, parked in their usual spots, would watch us with bemused smiles as they nursed their beers. Some of us would end up occupying those same bar stools when we grew up. Some wouldn’t.

At the time, it was hard to predict who would fall into which camp.

Doug and I met on the base paths, though we can’t remember if he was running and I was playing first base or the other way around. Looking at us, it wasn’t obvious that this was a friendship that would deepen for decades.

Even at that age, he was tall, handsome and had an easy way with people that drew them in. I was of average height, skinny and more of a smartass. He was a Red Sox fan, while I followed my dad, a native of the Bronx, in rooting for the Yankees. His family was Protestant; mine Jewish. He became a lawyer; me, a doctor.

Our relationships with our fathers drew us together, though, as we both struggled to navigate them. My dad helped coach my baseball team, and in an effort to dismiss any accusations of favouritism, went overboard in proving that I would receive no special treatment.

He drove to games, the team’s baseball equipment packed loosely in the trunk of his Dodge Dart, while I walked separately. When I struck out, he threw his hat into the dirt of the dugout’s floor, disgusted at my inadequacies. If I missed a throw to first base, he wouldn’t talk to me for days.

Doug’s Dad, an owlish history professor who spent most of his time in a home office from which we were eternally banned, never attended a game. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even notice Doug for days.

One father too present, the other too absent. Doug and I turned to each other to make sense of these dads – and for reassurance that we weren’t bad kids.

When my dad threw a tantrum at my batting foibles, I’d look across the field and meet Doug’s calm brown eyes. Not your fault, they’d say. I came to his games to cheer him on.

“We loved each other, even back then. But at that age, at that time and where we grew up, we would never say it out loud.”

Siblings – and we each had one – are thrust upon us. Best friends you get to choose. And we chose each other.

We loved each other, even back then. But at that age, at that time and where we grew up, we would never say it out loud.

As is true with any long-term relationship, we had our ups and downs. In high school, Doug’s father finally noticed him, didn’t like what he saw, and Doug left to join his mother, who was living in Massachusetts.

We lost touch until our first summer after starting college. Doug tracked me down to the restaurant where I was working and left me a note with his address and phone number – he was staying with his sister by then. We took up again as if no time had passed. I still have the note.

Over the following years, we met each other’s girlfriends and went out to restaurants and movies as couples. I told him excitedly that I was going to propose, and he did the same before his proposal. Then, after the fact, we called each other to review every detail of how it had gone. We organised each other’s bachelor’s parties, were groomsmen at one another’s weddings and were early visitors to see each other’s first children.

We didn’t express our love, though, until my wife and I separated, in 2004. Doug and his wife had divorced by then after she stunned him one night by announcing that they were inherently incompatible and might as well just get it over with. For months after their split, I talked with him daily and told him he was a good person, that he was loveable. Eventually, he believed me.

I remember the exact moment we said it, too. I had moved to a dingy apartment that I had furnished with a small kitchen table, two chairs, an old couch and a futon. Broken, devastated at my own failure in marriage and at the thought of losing my young son, I sat on the bare floor of the bedroom sobbing into the phone as Doug listened, soothed and calmed.

“I love you,” he said, stressing the I. “I love you.” No matter what I thought of myself, or what the rest of the world might say, Doug would always love me.

“I love you, too,” I answered, reassured by him, and as if we had been saying these words to each other for years.

This time, he called me every day for months until I could reassemble the pieces of myself, the closing signature to our conversations now firmly established.

“I kiss my boys and tell them how much I love them just as much as I do my daughter.”

We both married again, both to women, both happily, and served as each other’s groomsmen one more time. Our families get together every year, despite the thousand miles that separate us, and our kids refer to the adults as uncles and aunts. We’re not gay – though we joke that if we were, we would choose each other as husbands.

Our wives look at us funny when we say that, too.

A cultural shift has occurred in the 40 years since Doug and I played Little League baseball with each other, and it isn’t as strange today for two straight men to express their feelings for one another as it once was.

However, we recognise that our openness still isn’t the norm, so we try to model how we treat each other for our children, so hopefully, it will be the norm for them. We say the words as they listen to our calls, and I kiss my boys and tell them how much I love them just as much as I do my daughter.

Over time, Doug and I developed our routine of weekly phone calls, and text a lot in between. The topics of our tête-à-têtes range from how work is going to recent bike rides to the occasional boyhood reminiscence, but always settle on parenting.

I now attend my kids’ sporting events and cheer them on from the sidelines. Doug coaches his daughter’s soccer team. Still, we worry about the relationships we’ve developed with our own children. I ask Doug for advice on how he would handle the issue of the week that has arisen in my family, and he does the same with me. I tell him how much I admire the father he has turned into; he echoes the compliment back.

And then we tell each other “I love you,” a lot more comfortable in saying the words out loud than when we were younger, and maybe a little more comforted in the dads we, ourselves, have become.

This piece was originally published in June 2021 and we’re rerunning it now as part of HuffPost Personal’s “Best Of” series.

Mikkael A. Sekeres, M.D., M.S. is Chief of the Division of Hematology and Professor of Medicine at the Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami. He is a widely published essayist and the author of “When Blood Breaks Down: Life Lessons From Leukemia” (The MIT Press). Follow him on Twitter at @MikkaelSekeres.

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A UK Boomer, Gen X, Millenial and Gen Z Man On Sex In 2025

Salt–N–Pepa might have famously sung the words ‘Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby’, but let’s face it, talking about our bedroom antics isn’t always comfortable, especially when it comes to sharing the nitty gritty details of what you like, how much you’re having and – scariest of all – your feelings about it.

Fortunately in 2025 conversations around sex have become so much more commonplace thanks to an ever-changing cultural shift that champions emotional openness, but according to new data, men are being left behind.

A survey on over 2,000 UK adults from Lovehoney, the UK’s leading sexual wellness brand, has uncovered the deep emotional disconnects around sex, intimacy and identity that the men of the UK are struggling with.

According to the stats, 40% of men worry about their sexual performance (compared to just 21% of women) and many still avoid honest conversations with their partner.

In fact, 10% of men want to talk more openly about sex with their partner, but don’t – that’s equivalent to over 2.25 million male adults.

And worries about sex is an intergenerational issue when it comes to men – the survey found that 79% of men have worries about sex, increasing to 86% of Gen Z men and 87% of Millennial men.

“It’s a finding that speaks volumes about modern masculinity,” GP and men’s health expert, Dr Anand Patel, who has teamed up with Lovehoney, tells us.

“We’re living through a time when men are under pressure to be everything at once; emotionally open, sexually confident, but still somehow ‘in control’. The result? Performance anxiety, miscommunication, and in some cases, total disconnect.”

So what do the men of the UK actually think about sex in 2025? And as the data has found generational differences when it comes to worries about sex, what are Boomers feeling versus fresh-faced Gen Zers?

Enter Gideon, Kian, Gill and Keith – a Gen Z, a Millenial, a Gen X and a Boomer who’ve shared their lived experiences of sex, dating, and identity in a bid to shatter stereotypes and give voice to real, often-overlooked male perspectives.

Here are their stories.

“It’s magic, not a miracle”: Gideon, 27, Gen Z

Gideon, Gen Z
Gideon, Gen Z

From a young age, Gideon Allen knew he was different.

“I just felt this spark within me,” he remembers. “I grew up obsessed with crystals and mermaids. It spoke to something in me.”

Now 27, Gideon is a gay actor and part-time witch living in Liverpool – a man who blends mysticism, kink and a no-BS approach to dating in equal measure.

“People ask me why I don’t magic up a boyfriend,” he laughs. “But it’s magic, not a miracle. You can only do so much.”

Despite his openness around kink and communication, Gideon is single and, frankly, unimpressed.

“People tend to over-promise and under-deliver in bed,” he says. “A lot of men brag about their sexual achievements – if you want to call it that – but when it actually comes down to getting dirty, they’re lacklustre. All bark and no bite.”

As a gay man, Gideon is also tired of being used as someone else’s experiment.

“One of my biggest gripes is straight-identifying men who flirt or make suggestive moves, then brush it off as a joke. It’s not flattering. It’s exhausting,” he says. “I become their secret, a way to explore without being seen. That secrecy isn’t just isolating, it’s emotionally draining.”

Gideon typically waits three days before sleeping with someone. Not because of prudishness, but because he believes intimacy should be intentional.

“In the gay community, there’s often pressure for immediate gratification. But I think a little waiting creates trust. It helps me feel emotionally and physically safe.”

While Gideon doesn’t claim to practice black magic, he admits some spells aren’t exactly squeaky clean.

“I have voodoo dolls in my lair, but I don’t stick pins in them,” he says, mischievously. “Let’s just say…people who cross me tend to have things go wrong. They fall down the stairs, lose a job, hairlines recede. Was it me? Who knows. But I like to think it was.”

Right now, though, the love life is on pause.

“Honestly, it feels like most men don’t know what they’re doing – emotionally, sexually or communicatively. Maybe it’s the ginger in me. We do have a higher pain threshold, after all.”

“People assume I’m a player – but I’m just honest about sex and what I want”: Kian, 29, Millennial

Kian, Millennial
Kian, Millennial

Kian’s not the type to play games. Despite being regularly labelled a player by women who make snap judgements based on his looks and style, he’s upfront about what he wants, both emotionally and sexually.

“I dress well and I get attention,” he says. “But I’m very introverted. I like to keep to myself. I’m not the guy who walks up to women in bars with cheesy lines. I just like a real conversation – if it flows, it flows.”

Right now, Kian’s happily single. He hasn’t been in a relationship for four years, his longest was at 18 and lasted four years and he’s not in any rush to settle down.

Instead, he’s enjoying the freedom of a no-commitment relationship.

“We’re friends first. Sometimes we’re intimate, sometimes we just watch a movie. There’s no pressure,” he explains.

“In regards to body counts I don’t tell anyone by number.

“Men will tell their friends the real number, but not women – because girls do judge. If the number’s too low, they think you’re inexperienced. If it’s too high, they think you’ve been around. Either way, you can’t win.”

When it comes to sex, Kian wants to make every woman feel attractive, no matter what.

“I’ve met women who are confident about their bodies, and others who are body shy and want to keep their top on during sex. I don’t judge. I’ll always tell them they’re attractive – inside and out. I want them to feel good. You are your own person. That’s what matters.”

Kian’s mum is one of his closest confidantes. “She gives the best advice – always honest, never judges me. I tell her everything. She just wants me to be happy and settled. That makes a huge difference.”

His dad passed away five years ago, and among his six siblings, some are in long-term relationships, while others are doing their own thing and in no hurry.

Whether it’s sex, commitment, or trust, Kian believes open communication is the key to everything.

“If a woman’s been hurt in the past, it can take a while for her to trust. But I’d rather we talked about it. That’s how relationships grow, rather than pretending everything’s fine.”

“We’re not monkeys in a zoo”: Gil, 46, Gen X

Gil, Gen X
Gil, Gen X

46-year-old Gil is sexually active, happily single, and refreshingly open about everything from erectile dysfunction to his experiences with sex work. However, the modern LGBTQ+ landscape looks very different from the one he grew up in.

And not all of the changes are positive.

For Gil, one of the biggest issues is how formerly gay-only spaces are now being “monopolised and misappropriated.”

“You get women who act completely normal in a straight bar,” he explains, “but they come to a queer bar, get their boobs out, dance up against you, and tell you: ‘I love gay men because they leave me alone.’

“I came here to be with other gay men, not to take selfies with straight women grinding against me. We’re not monkeys in a zoo.”

The same goes for Pride. Gil is blunt: “If you think Pride is just a party, I’m sorry –you’re not really welcome.

“London Pride is now super overcrowded. Half the people there are straight. I get it – be an ally. But understand why we have Pride. It started as a protest. People fought for our rights. That meaning has been lost.”

Gil is refreshingly candid about getting older and how that affects his sex life.

“I’m less active than I used to be – and that’s okay,” he shrugs. “Sometimes I rely on the little blue pill. Brewer’s droop is real, especially after a few drinks. That’s part of ageing. It doesn’t bother me.”

One topic Gil’s particularly passionate about is HIV education.

“I want people to understand that ‘undetectable’ means untransmittable. If someone is HIV positive but undetectable, they can’t pass it on. I’ve had safe sex with men who are undetectable and been absolutely fine.”

He credits organisations like 56 Dean Street and the Terrence Higgins Trust for their life-changing work: “There’s no excuse for outdated prejudice in 2025.”

Above all, Gil believes openness in relationships is key.

“I’ve always been an open book. And I think when you’re honest about sex, ageing, and insecurities, it helps others feel they can be too.

“There used to be so many taboos, but people are more open now and that’s a good thing. We’ve got to keep the conversations going.”

“You don’t stop having sex at 70 – but you do have to talk about it more”: Keith, 70, Boomer

Keith, Boomer
Keith, Boomer

Boomers aren’t exactly known for their sexual openness – they’re the generation where what happens behind closed doors, stays behind closed doors. But Keith is done with that stereotype.

The 70-year-old part-time actor and retired teacher from Hastings has been married to Heather, 61, for 25 years. He credits their lasting relationship to one thing – open communication, even when it’s uncomfortable.

From erectile dysfunction and dwindling libidos to keeping things spicy in their autumn years, Keith and Heather talk about it all.

“Men don’t talk about sex,” says Keith. “At least not properly. If they do, it’s all pub banter. We’re afraid of appearing vulnerable. You don’t want people to think you’re less than.”

It’s an attitude Keith has tried to challenge in his own marriage. When he noticed their sex life drying up, he didn’t brush it under the carpet – he brought it up.

“At first, the lack of sex caused tension. It became: ‘Not another headache.’ I started to feel rejected. I thought, ‘Just say you don’t fancy me anymore.’”

He soon realised it wasn’t personal. It was biological. Their once-great sex life had been sideswiped by the triple whammy of menopause, hormonal changes, and erectile dysfunction.

“I didn’t go to the doctor, I used to teach biology, so I knew it was the blood pressure meds. And I figured I’d rather be alive than take something that messed with that.

“Sexual intimacy doesn’t have to mean going all the way. There’s still a sense of grief, sure. But there are still things you can do for each other that feel good. You adapt.”

Keith also wants more couples to understand the biology of desire – and how changes in sex drive don’t have to spell disaster.

“So many relationships end because one partner thinks the other’s not interested anymore. But hormones change, especially for women. It’s not rejection – it’s just biology.

“You’ve got to talk. Talk when it’s not right. Talk when it is. If sex stops, it doesn’t mean the love has.”

His final piece of advice to younger generations?

“Talk to each other. Don’t be afraid to talk when things aren’t working – or when they are. Enjoy sex. Communicate. And never feel ashamed of it.”

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The New Gender Divide? Reading, Apparently

Did you know only 40% of Britons have read a book or listened to an audiobook in the past year?

Yup ― according to a recent YouGov poll, two-fifths of us didn’t engage with the hobby at all in the past 12 months, despite half of us buying a new book in that time.

The average Brit read or listened to three books last year, they add. A further 10% read between six and 10 books; 10% read between 10-20; and a tiny 4% tore through more than 50 titles.

Those numbers changed according to gender, age, and class.

Women are more likely to read than men

The research found that 66% of women have read or listened to a book in the last year, compared to just over half (53%) of men who said the same.

Of people who read in that period, women were more likely to read fiction for some or all of their titles (63%) than men (46%).

Though most people who read do so once a week, women were twice as likely as men (27% vs 13%) to read every day, too.

Additionally, women seem to get their books from a broader variety of sources: they’re almost twice as likely to have borrowed books from their family or friends than men (37% vs 19%) or from a library (24% vs 13%).

And women were likelier to buy second-hand books (46% vs 32%).

Of course, those weren’t the only differences in reading habits. 65% of people over 65 read or listened to a book in the last year compared to 53% of 18-24-year-olds.

Class seemed to have informed how much people read too; 66% of those in middle-class households had finished a title in the last year, compared to 52% of people in working-class households.

Why might men read less often than women?

Vox pointed out that an oft-repeated stat ― that “80% of women” buy all fiction units ― doesn’t seem to have a reliable, current source.

But lots of data suggest that men do read at least a little less often than women, and also read less fiction.

Writing for The Guardian, author of The Authority Gap, MA Sieghart, says her research found that men are far less likely to read a book they know is by a woman than women are to read a book they know is by a man OR a woman.

NPR found that by 2020, the majority of all newly published books ― both fiction and non-fiction ― began to be written by women, which might play a small role in the disparity.

With that said, contemporary hits are far from the only option for men (men had the biggest slice of the publishing pie for most of history), and even new titles are not monopolised by women.

Perhaps, as a GQ writer speculated, reading is seen as anti-“hustle culture” and against some ideas of masculinity; though as they added, “there’s no concrete answer.”

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So… Why Do Men Spend So Much Time In The Bathroom?

In an Instagram Reel that’s been viewed over 70 million times, site user Hannah Stocking put a book above her loo’s cistern, placed a seat cover on the toilet, and walked out to her partner.

“I have to go,” he said forlornly; “I love you,” they both whispered as he entered the WC.

Arms on a clock span as he played games, scrolled, and generally hung out in there, pants around his ankles. He eventually emerges, bearded and disoriented.

“When your man goes to the bathroom,” the caption reads.

It’s not just an anecdotal thing or a funny post, though; according to a survey run by UK Bathrooms, men spend, on average, one hour and 35 minutes perched on the toilet each week compared to women’s 55 minutes.

Why?

It’s not usually stomach issues; or at least, it’s less likely to be that than it is for women.

Dr. Kyle Staller, a gastroenterologist, told Yahoo Life: “It’s true that men do spend longer in the toilet or on the toilet than women do, but in reality are much less likely to have bowel issues and chronic constipation than women are.”

Women’s colons are, on average, 10cm longer than men’s; our hormones also typically fluctuate more often, beleaguering our BMs.

A 2017 study from the University of Oxford and the University of Canberra found that not only are men more likely than women to scroll on the loo (20% vs 26.5%).

A YouGov study also found women feel more nervous about going number two in public loos, where lines are generally also longer than men’s.

But if we’re being real, I reckon we all know the true answer ― a lot of men admit to looking for a bit of an escape and some “me time” on the porcelain throne.

One-third of British men admit to hiding in the loo to escape their families compared to one-fifth of women, according to a survey by bathroom company Pebble Grey.

In a Vice article,

: “Now that I live with my girlfriend, I often use that alone time to plan dinners for the both of us and just generally take stock of the days ahead and what I’ve got going on.”

But doesn’t everyone like some me time?

Well, yes.

“I’ve had some clients tell me that the bathroom allows for the perfect escape from parenting duties,” Jonathan Alpert, a psychotherapist and author, told LiveScience.

“It can be a hideout for people because no one ever asks what you’re doing in there, even if you take a long time. It can truly be a safe place.”

That’s despite Office of National Statistics data that showed fathers of children aged five to 10 enjoyed five hours more leisure time than women per week, and “consistently took more leisure time than women regardless of how old the child in their household was.”

A 2023 Mumsnet post from a poster whose husband took several half-hour-long loo breaks daily reads, “The house would [be] chaos, the family wouldn’t eat and nothing would get done if I took 20 minutes out several times a day.”

Of course, if medical issues are to blame, ensure you see a doctor. And if it’s not a real cause of contention, hey ― scroll away.

Just don’t stay seated while, er, exposed for longer than five minutes (that can cause piles); and if you dash to the bog every time you need an escape, you might want to consider other, less pungent sources of “me time.”

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This Is Why ‘No Nut November’ Isn’t Actually Good For You

As ‘No Nut November’ rolls around again, abstinence from masturbation is a common topic of discussion this time of year.

If you’ve never heard of it before, the challenge is all about abstaining from ejaculating – with a partner or otherwise – for the entire month, with some believing it’s good for male health. And it’s pretty popular – on TikTok, the hashtag #NNN (short for No Nut November) has 15.5 billion views.

What is No Nut November?

According to the Reddit thread r/nonutnovember, the rules for taking part are strict: no masturbation, at all, throughout the month of November.

“Akin to trends like No Shave November, No Nut November is an event where those who have found it hard to go even a few days without masturbating attempt to challenge the dependency, and go the entire month without making the bald man cry,” reads the Reddit community’s About section.

Is ‘nutting’ a lot a problem, then?

That’s the thing – it’s not, really.

Gigi Engle, a sex and relationships psychotherapist and lead intimacy expert at the dating app 3Fun, argues there is “no such thing” as being dependent on masturbation in the first place.

“It’s the same thinking that masturbation is addictive, porn is addictive, sex is addictive. There is absolutely no reputable science that reflects this school of thought,” she tells HuffPost UK.

Neither sex addiction nor porn addiction is recognised in the DSM-5, and the NHS also says that experts disagree on whether or not one can be medically addicted to sex and masturbation, saying: “Some sex and relationships experts believe people can become addicted to the enjoyable feeling or ‘high’ experienced during sex and sexual activity, but others disagree.”

So, why are men putting themselves through it?

The No Nut November Reddit community says “some do it just for the memes”, while others do it for actual self-improvement.

In 2019, u/yeeval, a moderator on the subreddit group doubles down on this, telling Rolling Stone: “In my opinion, most originally participate in NNN for the meme aspect of the challenge but as the days go on people begin to see how big their porn or masturbation dependency is.”

He continues to explain that No Nut November isn’t a political movement, neither is it anti-porn or anti-women.

“In its most simple form NoNutNovember [is] just a fun internet challenge that has grown in popularity due to many memes that circulate the internet…

“However, I also think that the reason that it has become so widespread is that it has given many the opportunity to look within themselves and realise that they might be relying on masturbation and porn for comfort.

Another reason No Nut November is believed to exist is thanks to a now retracted 2003 study. In this, a claim was made that abstaining from masturbation could spike testosterone.

However, since the study’s retraction, researchers have been unable to replicate the findings. In fact, criticism of the data surrounding heightened testosterone says that it’s janky at best because of small sample sizes and mixed results.

Is month-long abstinence a good idea?

Engle claims people who participate in ‘semen retention’ have shown consistently higher levels of depression and anxiety, she says: “This is because you’re building up a lot of stress, you’re not getting a release that can cause a lot of tension. There’s also a really big shame component.

“For people who believe in ‘semen retention’, if they do masturbate or if they watch porn, they are flooded with feelings of shame afterwards. And this can lead to detrimental mental health.”

Reed Amber, sex educator, sex worker activist and host of the podcast F**ks Given says, “No Nut November promotes this idea that you are masturbating too much, or that you’re using porn too much, which I think is a really dangerous concept to have when people haven’t actually spoken to professionals, or therapists or doctors about the type of behaviours that they are having.”

“Porn isn’t bad,” she continues, “but we can have bad habits revolving around porn, it’s about asking yourself, why you are masturbating?”

However, if participants are signing up in the capacity u/yeeval say they are, then isn’t that a good thing?

The answer, it seems, is complex.

Amber explains that a normal masturbation routine looks different to different people. “Some people need to masturbate once a month, and other people need to masturbate six times a day. And both those versions can be healthy, it just depends on where your mind is, and why you are masturbating,” she says.

There are now myriad studies that show masturbation to be a normal, healthy part of sexuality, even if you’re doing it multiple times a day. So long as you aren’t causing yourself distress, or inflicting distress upon others, there really isn’t anything to worry about.

“For the most part, porn can be used as a really healthy, exciting, beautiful tool for people and their pleasure,” says Amber. “Some people go through phases of using it unhealthily, just like we can do with binge-watching TV shows, or eating the wrong kinds of food or going to the gym too much.”

This is echoed by Engle, who says, “This whole idea of trying to ‘break your dependency’ and challenge yourself to not doing it is based on nonsense.”

The health benefits of regular masturbation

Bima Loxley, a Sex and Relationship Therapist and Sexologist, explains to HuffPost UK that “For people with penises, it is generally healthy to ejaculate at least once a week for different reasons, however, more research needs to be done on this.”

Currently, research shows that clearing the prostate, a natural byproduct of masturbation, can decrease the risk of prostate cancer. This is because regular masturbation clears the prostate of fluid build-up that could contain inflammatory matter, cancer-causing material and infection.

In England, over 44,000 men are diagnosed with prostate cancer every year, according to findings by Prostate UK.

Prostate health can also be linked to erectile dysfunction (ED). In a study conducted by the International Journal of Clinical Practice, 41.5% of participants reported experiencing erectile dysfunction. It is believed that 10-20% of all erectile dysfunction cases are caused by mental health stressors, such as performance anxiety or chronic stress. It is believed that these symptoms can be alleviated through masturbation, by building confidence.

So, should you do No Nut November, or no?

While nobody should ever feel coerced into masturbation if they don’t want to engage in it, it does have medical benefits for the body and mind.

Whereas abstinence from masturbation under the guise of enhancing masculinity by boosting testosterone levels has proven to be detrimental to mental and physical health, as well as being scientifically debunked.

“Porn and masturbation aren’t the problem — it’s our society and how we use it,” says Loxley.

The key takeaway is that shame and stigmatising masturbation is unhealthy. Questioning why we might be masturbating and being introspective about our consumption of pornography isn’t necessarily all bad, especially if we’re worried about compulsive behaviour.

So if you did want to have a good ol’ wank in November, go for it. And if you feel like you need to address some compulsive, sexual behaviours – the NHS has a list of recommended resources and support is available.

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Want To Know Rishi Sunak’s Height? So Does Everyone, Apparently

In four months, we’ve had three different prime ministers: Boris Johnson, Liz Truss and now, Rishi Sunak.

On October 25, the multi-millionaire officially took the top job, becoming the first UK prime minister of Asian descent and the youngest one too.

Nearly all of us have strong opinions about the government, but the public awaits to see how the latest leader of the Conservative Party will lead the country. His policies aren’t the only thing people are discussing though, the public have another obsession regarding Rishi: his height.

The new prime minister is 1.7m, which means that he’s 5ft 6 – and people have strong feelings about this. The average height for men in the UK is 5ft 10, a fact which has made the PM’s height the talk of the town.

Some people are mocking his height

Others think the discussions around his height are unfair and mean

But some of the ‘short kings’ are celebrating

Jokes about men’s height aren’t new, but they’re getting old. If you know it’s wrong to comment on women’s appearances, the same grace should be applied to men.

Men are more than just their height, but unfortunately, people do take the height of men into consideration.

A study conducted by the researchers at the University of St Andrews in Scotland found a link between height and the perception of masculinity. Whilst another 2005 study stated that men who said they were 6’3” or 6’4” got about 60% more messages on dating sites than men who were 5’7” or 5’8.

But the tide is slowly changing for short men. The term ‘short king’ increased during awards season when celebrity couples like Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas and Spider-Man’s Tom Holland and Zendaya took to the red carpet. Though both women are taller than their partners, they clearly couldn’t care less about height.

So the next time you want to critique Rishi Sunak, make sure it’s about his policies, not his height.

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We’ve Had Monkeypox. This Is What We Need People To Know

Jake* was having an ordinary family meal with his partner and 15-year-old son when he came down with a fever. For four days he felt exhaustion and had no appetite at all, and after a few days he developed brain fog. Twenty-four hours later, an anal lesion appeared.

It was essentially an open wound for five days which was emitting a clear mucus and then blood,” Jake tells HuffPost UK.

“It was almost impossible to sit down and moving was very painful. Opening my bowels was pure agony and my body was making me do that eight or nine times a day. Each time was a bloodbath.”

It was late July when the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared monkeypox a world health emergency.

The US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has estimated there are more than 25,000 cases worldwidepredominately in Europe, though more than 7,000 in the US, and more emerging in South America, South East Asia, the Western Pacific and the Eastern Mediterranean.

The virus was first reported in humans in 1970 in the Democratic Republic of Congo, having been identified in monkeys in a Danish laboratory in 1958 (thus the name). However, prior to 2021, there had only been seven UK cases.

As of August 4, there are more than 2,700 confirmed monkeypox cases in the UK, according to government figures, most in England and “a significant majority” of those – as many as 75% – in London.

Its prior rarity means knowledge of transmission among health experts is still patchy while we await more research – a period of stasis that echoes the early stages of Covid-19.

But this week, groups from across the political spectrum in Westminster joined forces, signing a letter to health secretary Steve Barclay calling for action on a disease that’s “causing real fear and anxiety” within queer communities.

FG Trade via Getty Images

While it’s possible for anyone, including children, to catch monkeypox, 98% of current cases are in men who identify as gay or bisexual, or men who have sex with men. This was confirmed by Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, director general of WHO, and he advised men to reduce their number of sexual partners while health authorities tackle the outbreak.

For decades, queer men have been subjected to unfair stigma around sexual promiscuity, particularly during the AIDS pandemic, and the lack of knowledge around the rise of monkeypox has obvious parallels with AIDS for those that remember the height of that crisis.

“We need to calmly and responsibly acknowledge that this current monkeypox outbreak is predominantly affecting gay and bisexual men.”

– Greg Owen, PrEP lead at Terrence Higgins Trust

So campaigners says it’s crucial that messaging about monkeypox transmission and vaccination is handled sensitively to avoid spreading further stigma against the LGBTQ+ community.

“We need to calmly and responsibly acknowledge that this current monkeypox outbreak is predominantly affecting gay and bisexual men,” says Greg Owen, PrEP lead at the Terrence Higgins Trust.

“We need to acknowledge that it’s also mainly being spread through the skin to skin contact, which is occurring during sex. There is nothing wrong with stating that. It is very problematic if we don’t.”

Dr Mark Lawton, a sexual health and HIV consultant in Liverpool and chair of the British Association of Sexual Health and HIV (BASHH), adds the following caution: “We believe, in addition to direct skin to skin to contact, monkeypox can be transmitted through contact with contaminated clothing and bedding and by respiratory droplets in close proximity.”

Harun Tulunay, a 35-year-old training coordinator who works with HIV/AIDS charity Positively UK, contracted a serious case of monkeypox in June.

“I was feeling like someone was ripping my flesh out of my bones,” says Tulunay of his experience. The Londoner doesn’t believe he developed monkeypox having sex, but through bodily touch, simply by lying next to a partner.

During his stint in hospital, the pain was so severe that doctors gave him opioids in an attempt to control the discomfort.

Harun Tulunay in hospital with monkeypox.

Harun Tulunay

Harun Tulunay in hospital with monkeypox.

“I wasn’t able to swallow, it was that bad,” he tells HuffPost UK. “The pain was worse than kidney stone pain. When they gave me antibiotics I was crying and kicking my bed and the doctors were holding me.”

While most monkeypox cases are much milder, there can be mental health implications for those who catch the virus.

Jake had been in close contact with his 80-year-old father in the period before his symptoms began and that, after getting a diagnosis, having to tell his family they might be at risk too gave him extra stress.

“Mentally it was very difficult,” says the professional services manager, who is bisexual, in his forties, and based in London.

“It meant my father knowing I’m in an open relationship which was stressful to share. My 80-year-old father has up until now just about managed to deal with my bisexuality by addressing it as little as possible. Now he is being contacted with offers for a vaccine as he may have been exposed.”

Jake's hand with signs of monkeypox (left) and his arm scabbing over (right).

Twitter/@MonkeyPoxJake

Jake’s hand with signs of monkeypox (left) and his arm scabbing over (right).

The Department of Health & Social Care (DHSC) says it is working “rapidly” to vaccinate those at risk.

Vaccinations began in July, using Imvanex – a vaccine designed for smallpox – and NHS England has confirmed that 14,000 people have already received a jab, although priority is being given to those at higher risk of contracting it.

“It’s important to emphasise that vaccination will not give instant protection against infection or disease, and can take several weeks,” the WHO director-general said on July 27. “That means those vaccinated should continue to take measures to protect themselves, by avoiding close contact, including sex, with others who have or are at risk of having monkeypox.”

The US virus declared the virus a public health emergency on Thursday. For those confirmed to have monkeypox, the US CDC is recommending a two-to-four-week isolation period.

Now campaigners are calling for similar focus in the UK. Greg Owen is among many spokespeople for queer organisations putting pressure on the government to do more to control the spread of the virus and speed up vaccine roll-out.

“We want to see a national lead appointed to hold all of those in the fragmented system to account in terms of tackling the monkeypox outbreak with the ultimate goal of preventing it from becoming endemic in the UK,” he tells HuffPost UK. Owen believes we “urgently” need to double the amount of vaccines with “an injection of cash, quickly” put into sexual health services.

The open letter signed by Conservatives, Labour, Liberal Democrat, Green and Scottish National Party representatives, as well as charities. echoed this: “We are united as LGBT+ groups from across political parties in asking that the government treat the monkeypox outbreak as a public health emergency.”

Alongside the Terrence Higgins Trust and BASSH, the British HIV Association, PrEPster and the National AIDS Trust are also rallying for government action, including £51m funding from the Department of Health and Social Care.

The call is repeated by Dr Lawton: “Crucial to this is immediate mobilisation of resources by the government to ensure sexual health clinics, who are bearing the brunt of this, are funded to deal with the additional workload and sufficient vaccine is made available for all those that need it,” he tells HuffPost UK.

The Terrence Higgins Trust has also expressed concern that access to other vital healthcare support is being stretched due to health workers being overworked and having to focus on an influx of monkeypox patients.

Some [sexual health services are] seeing a 90% reduction in access to the HIV prevention pill PrEP and long-acting reversible contraception,” the charity writes on its website.

Anna Bizon via Getty Images

Similarly to the early days of Covid-19, monkeypox is affecting people that are otherwise fit and healthy.

“I have no underlying health conditions,” says James,* who is 36, and asked to stay anonymous. “I work out six times a week and my fitness and health is my top priority. So for this to floor me the way it did, it was really scary. I also found the isolation really difficult, three weeks from the first sign and symptom is really tough!”

Meanwhile, John Thomas only experienced mild symptoms, but believes one of the major challenges is convincing men who have non-severe cases to isolate for the benefit of others.

“I think mild cases go under reported compared to the horror stories,” he tells HuffPost UK. “If you don’t know you have monkeypox, or if you can get away without people knowing you have it, you’re free to spread the virus to others.”

He adds: “If I hadn’t been looking for symptoms I would have almost certainly gone to a club night on the Friday [around the time of his transmission], and probably on the Saturday night as well.I think enough isn’t known about transmission yet, or if it is, the messaging is confusing.”

Thomas is right to have thought twice about going clubbing, says Dr Lawton, who says it is possible that monkeypox could spread in an intense nightclub environment where people are wearing little clothing.

“This is certainly a potential source of infection,” he says. “It is predominantly transmitted through skin to skin contact, but this does not need to be sexual.”

While we wait for more research, campaigners like Owen are trying to stay pragmatic.

While expressing “huge concerns,” including fears around vaccine equity, he tells HuffPost UK: “I tend not to ‘worry’ – worrying can be really debilitating.”

* Some names have been changed and surnames changed to offer anonymity.

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Men, Wear Sun Cream. You’re Way More Likely To Die Of Skin Cancer

Every morning I apply sunscreen, always to my face and usually to any other exposed skin too. Vanity drives my habit more than fear of skin cancer, but that vanity is going far to keeping my skin healthy — especially as a Florida resident.

But the same can’t be said for my husband.

Despite having a partner who writes about skincare and speaks enthusiastically about sunscreen, he doesn’t wear it daily.

But he, along with other men, have good reason to start: males are significantly more likely than females to die of melanoma, according to recent data from the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data. Among white people, who experience much higher rates of melanoma than people with other skin tones, males died of the cancer at more than twice the rate of females.

Lian Mack, a board-certified dermatologist and the medical director and owner of Gramercy Laser and Medical Dermatology, sees a disparity firsthand in her offices. “The number of women presenting to our offices for skin checks far exceeds the number of male patients,” she says, noting females in their mid-20s to late 50s make up the predominant demographic.

This same pattern is repeated elsewhere too. “Men seem to need a lot more coaxing to be seen in the office for skin checks,” says Luke Maxfield, a board-certified dermatologist. “Every year I have at least two or three men who are dragged into the office by their spouses only to have me confirm the diagnosis of melanoma. Literally, spouses often save men’s lives,” he says.

Delaying skin checks or forgoing them altogether means that problematic moles or spots may not be caught until later stages when melanoma’s survival rate begins to decrease, which can explain some of the increase in death rates. While skin cancer is more common in light skin, delaying skin checks is problematic for people of colour. Those with darker skin who are diagnosed with skin cancer often have a worse prognosis because it’s caught at a later stage.

Forgoing skin checks isn’t the only factor. Behaviour, lifestyle and even the locations of cancerous lesions make a difference.

“Women are more likely to wear sunscreen, more likely to stay out of the sun, and young women are more likely to have done a self-examination looking for skin cancers and also much more likely see a doctor for anything concerning,” Maxfield says. “These tendencies are extremely important given that more than half of melanomas may be first noticed by people examining their own skin at home.”

Without proper self-examination, those concerning spots can be hard to find and treat, especially in hard-to-see areas. “In males, most melanomas occur in areas that they are unable to monitor, like the shoulders or the back,” Mack explains, and without a partner to point it out, major delays in treatment can occur.

There may be biological factors, as well. Even when comparing melanomas of similar thickness and location between men and women, the men still fared worse. Levels of testosterone may play a role, but the science is still out on why exactly this is. “The story seems much more than just hormones, and there seems to be a biological role we have yet to discover,” he says.

Given the science, why aren’t more men wearing sun cream? When used properly, it has been proven to reduce the risk of both melanomas and other types of skin cancer. But while many people may apply sun cream when heading out to a day at the beach, making it a daily habit is essential since UV exposure is cumulative over time. “Most of my male patients need to be educated on the importance of sunscreen and the role that its use plays in the prevention of skin cancer and early aging. Most men simply do not believe that they need sunscreen if it is cold out or overcast,” Mack says.

It’s also not the easiest product to work with. Some sun creams can leave behind an uncomfortable stickiness or a white cast on the skin. “My skin-of-colour patients often struggle with the cosmetic elegance of sunscreen,” Mack says, explaining that some can leave behind a greyish-blue tone.

Since the effects of UV radiation damage don’t show up right away, it can be hard to connect time in the sun to any serious effects. And unlike women who use sunscreen to prevent premature ageing, men often don’t share the same motivation, Mack explains.

Making sunscreen a daily habit – even if it’s cloudy – comes down to just one thing: choosing a sun cream and applying it. “The best sunscreen is the one you use,” Mack says, repeating a quote oft-given by dermatologists.

Moyo Studio via Getty Images

For face, a cream sun cream of SPF 30 or higher is ideal, applied daily after cleansing and moisturising (skipping moisturiser is OK if it’s not needed). Applying enough is important to get full coverage – Mack recommends the two-finger method. Apply a streak of cream to two fingers from base to tip, and apply generously. “I tell my patients to put some of that product on their ears and neck as well,” Mack says.

Don’t forget to apply sun cream to the body, especially if you’ll be in the sun during the day. “If you are going to be at the beach and applying cream to your body, you should apply at least 2 ounces (or the size of a shot glass) to the entire body 20 minutes before sun exposure and reapply every 80 minutes,” Mack says.

Think about your lifestyle when choosing a sun cream. “Moisturisers with SPF do double-duty to hydrate and protect the skin while also providing sun protection. Tinted sun creams can help them blend with darker skin tones as well as protect from visible light and protect skin from dark spots. And if you are an active person, make sure you are getting something water-resistant,” Maxfield says.

There is good news: despite bleaker statistics for men, knowledge and prevention can go a long way. “Take control of what you can,” Maxfield says. “Know your risk factors. These include sun exposure, having multiple moles on your body, or a family history of melanoma,” he says.

Aside from seeing a dermatologist, self skin checks can be lifesaving. “Check yourself for moles that have multiple colours or irregular borders, those larger than a pencil eraser, or any changing moles, and make sure you seek out a dermatologist if there is anything concerning,” Maxfield says.

And of course, wear sunscreen!

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No, Telling Men To Get Vasectomies Is Not The Answer Right Now

Since news of the overturning of Roe V Wade broke on Friday, ending the constitutional right to abortion in the US after almost half a century, abortion rights activists have galvanised, and social media efforts have amplified.

You may have seen posts alluding to the fact that a woman can only foster one full pregnancy a year, while a man can impregnate multiple people in a day, should he have the opportunity. And the solution often suggested: vasectomy, the surgical procedure that cuts or seals the tubes that carry a man’s sperm.

Amid so much anger around the policing of women’s bodies, the impulse to suggest that men’s bodies should also be policed is understandable.

In a world of reduced abortion access, where women are left either to manage birth control or carry their babies to full term, people are once again suggesting we shift the onus to men in the form of mandatory vasectomies.

In fact, this view has been circulating on social media for a while now. And while many people are probably not being literal in their calls for vasectomies, it speaks to the widespread rage over moves to control bodily autonomy.

However, many people are pointing out the flaws in the argument.

Vasectomies aren’t an ‘alternative’ to abortion

This suggestion has basic logistical failings, as PHD researcher Georgia Grainger, from the Centre for the Social History of Health and Healthcare in Glasgow, has pointed out in a Twitter thread.

As a historian of vasectomies, Grainger, aka @sniphist on Twitter, stresses that the procedure is not an alternative to abortion.

This is because women will still need terminations, she says, both of wanted and unwanted pregnancies, regardless of vasectomies and other forms of birth control.

Nor are vasectomies a failsafe form of birth control – and when in rare cases they do fail, it’s not usually obvious until the pregnancy is identified, she says.

In her thread, Grainger also highlights that even if someone had insisted they’d had the surgery, could you trust that they really had?

Especially, in the case of abusive relationships or sexual assault, why would someone who doesn’t respect consent take up an invasive surgery for the benefit of someone else?

Forced sterilisations are deeply problematic

Grainger stresses this important historical point. Forced sterilisations have been trialled as several points during history and they enforce eugenics, she says. The policy has predominantly been targeted at minority groups to stop them from procreating.

In US history, indigenous Americans, Black and Latinx people, incarcerated peoples, and poor communities endured forced sterilisations.

These groups were targeted throughout the 20th century, with nearly 70,000 people forcibly sterilised (and not just men, an overwhelming amount were working-class women of colour).

Germany also has a history of coercive sterilisation, having sterilised disabled people, institutionalised people, and even alcoholics. In Nazi Germany, the Hereditary Health Court also known as the Genetic Health Court, was a court that decided whether people should be forcibly sterilised.

Grainger is not the only one to point out these troubling historical precedents.

Bodily autonomy for all, not some

People have also pointed out that if we want better rights and autonomy for women and people who can get pregnant, this has to mean protecting these rights for everybody

Do we really want men to face the same bodily scrutiny applied to women – and for men who chose not to go through the procedure to be vilified?

Nor does the vasectomy vs abortion binary do much for trans and nonbinary people who also need access to abortions, and are often excluded from discussions of these human rights.

As the debate continues, Grainger’s insights have gone viral on Twitter, amassing more than 75,000 likes.

But, as she pointed out in her own thread, she is still pro-vasectomy, as long as they’re for the right reasons and for people who genuinely want them.

Ultimately, we shouldn’t pit vasectomies against abortions, she says. Abortions will always be needed, whether because the pregnancy is failing, the pregnant person is at risk, because there wasn’t consent to the sex in the first place, or simply because the pregnant person doesn’t want children.

So next time you see calls for mandatory vasectomies or are temped to make one yourself, remember that it’s not as straightforward as it seems.

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