A recent column of yours really ticked me off. You stated, "While men can have sex without an emotional connection, women generally need to feel emotionally close to their partner first." You could not be more WRONG. I'm a very good-looking and fit man, and I would never have sex with someone I didn't have feelings for. To further prove my point, I know just as many high-class women who have sex with men they do not have feelings for! So women are just as guilty as men. There is no "generally" about it.

When a heterosexual man has a one-night stand, which three words best describe how he's likely to feel afterward: "used, degraded, dirty" or "lucky, lucky, lucky!"?

Many women say they can hook up and walk away like men do, and they probably believe that. It seems kind of uncool to be all emotional when you want to be tough and all "no big deal" about casual sex. But we all get our marching orders from our genes. Some of these are unisex, like, "Yoohoo, sharp teeth to your left. Better run!" But there are also separate sets of directives for men and women, corresponding to our physiological differences. In What Women Want--What Men Want, anthropologist John Townsend explains, "Because women can be impregnated and abandoned and men cannot, women's emotions evolved to evaluate the quality and reliability of male investment. These emotions act as an alarm system that urges women to test and evaluate investment and remedy deficiencies even when they try to be indifferent to investment."

Yes, this "Dad or Cad?" detector women have seems to be missing the all-important on-off switch. In one of Townsend's studies, he found that even when women just wanted to hump and dump a guy, sex "made them feel vulnerable, and thoughts crossed their minds like 'Does he care about me, is sex all he was after, will he dump me in the morning?' These thoughts were difficult to suppress." They're also especially disheartening to young women who've been taught that "gender is a social construct" and who conflate being equal under the law with being the same. Sure, girls can do lots of things boys can do...but should they? Hooking up with some random himbo seems like a bad idea if your "I am woman, hear me roar" typically gives way to "I am woman's genes, hear me whimper that we hope he'll call us in the morning."

Don't mistake this as a call for prudery. I'm not suggesting that women who want no-strings sex trade their NuvaRings for chastity rings. And, regarding your contention that there's no "generally" about men, women, and casual sex -- sure, there are exceptions: men who get all emo afterward and women who wish that the guy would evaporate already. Studies don't explain every person; they paint a picture of the average person. There are women who can't have casual sex (they can't help but get attached), but the research suggests to me that some women might just need to differentiate between casual sex and too-casual sex. When a woman isn't up for a boyfriend (or spending a year with her knees crossed), maybe a "friends with benefits" thing could work for her -- if it's a friend she's known and trusted for more than the 26 minutes he spent chatting her up after "last call."

We all have our indulgences, but how much porn is too much? My boyfriend has hundreds of porn bookmarks in his smart phone. He showed them off to me at dinner and said there were 300. Is having so many a sign that it's less about amusement than it is about compulsive behavior? By the way, he's generally a collector of things.

A guy can show his girlfriend his Hot Wheels collection and she's unlikely to start fretting that he'll be having sex with her but picturing Bobby Unser. And then there's your boyfriend, who's turned the Android into his Porndroid. He may or may not have a porn problem. It's a problem for you if you feel you aren't getting enough time, sex, and attention. But what's definitely a problem is the hostility and passive-aggressiveness of a boyfriend who can't just watch on the sly; he has to stick it in his girlfriend's face. Is this really somebody you want to spend a lot more time with? If not, the next time he shoves his phone across the dinner table and asks, "Seen the position of the day?" you might show him one of your own -- one you like to call doggie bag-style: woman, from behind, carrying the rest of her dinner out the restaurant door to go find a guy who's nice to her.

One year ago, I was engaged to a wonderful man I'd been with for four years. I loved him deeply, he was everything I thought I wanted, and his family was my family. Two months before our wedding, a dear male friend of mine confessed his love for me. When I realized I felt more than friendship for him, I thought I just had cold feet. After much soul-searching, I called my wedding off, figuring that such a strong emotional connection to another man indicated that I needed something I wasn't getting from my fiance. I have been with my new man ever since and have never been so happy, but I'm consumed by guilt. My ex-fiance and I spent many hours planning our future. It haunts me to think how badly I've hurt him and his family. I wake up at night picturing him alone in his bed crying, and I imagine family holidays with his young nieces asking, "Where's Auntie?"

You didn't plot to make the guy love you and want a life with you just so you could really stick it to him four years later: "Let's role-play! You be the baby seal, and I'll be the fur trader!"

It now seems that those hours he spent planning a future with you would have been better invested in playing Killzone 2 or balancing a ball on his nose. Oops. Love, like hang gliding, comes with some risks. Those who aren't up for them are free to stay home alone watching infomercials with the cat.

You got so swept up in the momentum of building a life with this guy that you didn't realize what you were missing -- until it came along and said, "Whoa, you're not actually going to marry him." The thing is, when something doesn't feel wrong, it's easy to believe it's right. And sometimes, you see most clearly by comparison -- and then come to the sinking realization that you've got to inform a very sweet guy that his bachelor party will be more of a perpetual bachelor party.

Going all "Da Vinci Code" crazed albino monk and locking yourself in a room to self-flagellate doesn't do a thing for the guy you left, and it sure isn't helping you or your current boyfriend. In fact, by focusing all this energy on your jilted ex, it's like you're still in a relationship with him. It's right to feel sympathy for him, but guilt? Feeling guilt would be legitimate if there had been something you could've done to prevent his pain -- like willing yourself to be wiser faster or going back in time to the moment he hit on you and giving him the wrong number.

Your ex might be weeping into his pillow -- or he might be out playing tennis or in bed with your replacement. I'm sure you're a great girl, but life goes on. Since you left the guy so you could be happy, the least you could do is enjoy yourself. You also might give yourself some props for not doing what far too many people do: marry somebody they know is wrong for them because, well, they were already in the marriage trajectory and they paid good money to send out 300 magnetic save the dates. They forge right ahead with that "Princess Bride"-themed walk down the aisle -- which, in a few months or years, tends to have them walking down a more "Judgment at Nuremberg"-themed aisle: "You may now kiss the bailiff."

I'm casually dating multiple people and stressing about what to do when a man wants to see me again but I already have a date. Do I lie and say I'm hanging with a friend? I'm looking to have a serious relationship, and it seems bad to have it based in dishonesty from the start.

Because we can all disseminate massive quantities of information about ourselves doesn't mean we should. In fact, if you took all the utterly inane revelations off Twitter, you could probably run the entire enterprise off an old PC in somebody's garage. Until you get serious with somebody, all he needs to know is that you "have other plans," not that you're "going out with Jason tonight, and he's a foot and a half taller than you and makes lots more money." Keeping mum about the details isn't dishonesty; it's tact. Anybody emotionally healthy and socially intelligent gets that you aren't going to be his one and only by the third date. The only information you do owe him is whether you might give him another shot -- or cause him to need one to eliminate painful urination, night sweats, and weeping sores.

I fear my husband has some disability in regard to apologizing. Monday was his birthday. I had a terrible cold, but put myself on enough meds to cook him a wonderful meal and dessert. I felt too sick for sex, so I offered up a, um, very personal massage, but he refused. Later, when I asked for a hug as we got into bed, he said, "I don't think so." The next day, he was grumpy and distant. When I finally called him on it, he said he was sexually frustrated (despite the fact that we usually have sex three times a week). The following day, he acted like everything was normal, but I still wanted an apology. I said, "It'd be nice if you'd give me a hug and say, 'I really appreciate everything you did and I'm sorry for being grumpy.'" He got mad and stormed out, which is typical. The closest he ever comes to apologizing is angrily blurting out that he's sorry.

Oh, boohoo, his sex vending machine was broken. He shook and shook it and all that tumbled out was a three-course meal and dessert.

Pledging to be there for your spouse "in sickness" is supposed to mean being there feeling their forehead for a temperature, not feeling under the blanket to see if they're wearing panties. Likewise, appropriate remarks are "Can I bring you another box of tissues?" or "I'll refill your vaporizer," not "Rack up some sex, Sniffles!" This has to leave you wondering what happens if you get seriously ill. Do you wake up to him tapping your chemo tubing, "Ahem, Missy...we haven't had sex since you had hair"?

Humans seem to have an evolutionary adaptation to help us guard against being chumped, a sort of inner police dog to see that we aren't all give and give to people who are all take and take. When our sense of fairness is violated, we need a sign from the violator that we aren't idiots to trust them in the future. An apology can't undo a wrong that's been done, but because it has ego costs for the apologizer (in admitting wrongdoing), it's an offering that suggests that their future actions will be more partnerlike than selfishjerklike.

It takes a strong person to admit weakness. A person who's immature, selfish, and insecure clings to the idea that love is never having to say you're sorry, but occasionally needing to snarl it. A sincere apology involves admitting wrongdoing, expressing remorse, pledging that it won't happen again, and making amends. Feeling remorse is an especially important element. A person who doesn't feel bad about making you feel bad has no reason to feel bad about doing it again.

You can hope he'll change, you can encourage him to change (I suggest enlisting a therapist trained by marriage researcher John Gottman, gottman.com). But, because criticizing a man with such a flimsy ego is like "putting out fire with gasoline," right now, probably your most uncrazymaking approach to his little tantrums is laughing to yourself at what a big baby he is. From the "probably nice in theory" files, you could explain why an apology means so much to you and suggest making a pact to try to always behave like people who haven't forgotten they love each other. But, consider whether you want to stay married to a man who dispenses affection on the barter system. Your husband's having sex with you three times a week -- unlike all the husbands who write me, longing to go from zero to three times a year. Yet, one night, you find yourself more in the mood for NyQuil, and there's your man, standing his ground: "No humping? No hugging. The hug store is closed!"

What's with women on dating sites who post pictures of themselves standing with their ex-boyfriend? At least that's how it looks when a woman's posed with some guy that she's cropped or partially cropped out of the photo.

Every picture tells a story: "Look! A man once wanted me!" Or, "This is how cute I looked before he stole the best years of my life." Or, "Consider this proof I was once 10 years younger, 20 pounds lighter, and had an entirely different head." To the discerning, a woman who posts a profile pic of herself with a guy is sending a message that she's socially tone-deaf, not serious about finding somebody, or desperate. (She can't postpone her entry into the online dating world long enough to fire up the webcam or wait for a friend to come snap her picture?) Ultimately, if a woman's going to post a shot of herself wearing something a little revealing, it shouldn't be the hairy arm of the guy she just dumped.

I'm a 56-year-old married woman, and as far as I can tell, I've been happily heterosexual all my life -- until recently. For the past year, I've been thinking about a woman until I can no longer think about anything else. I have such powerful and authentic sexual feelings that I feel compelled to reveal myself to her, but I think she'd probably knock me out. We're both married to men, and she's a pretty prominent member in our community whom I've long respected, so there are also elements of danger and hero worship here. There are other reasons to leave this alone, but I'm having a hard time doing it. I just want her so desperately. I should add that I haven't been in an intimate relationship for a long time, as my husband was an alcoholic who's now recovering. But, when my desire returned, it wasn't for him; it was all for her! I have no idea what's happening. ARGGGH! I think I love her!

Too bad you aren't 19 and in college. You'd be free to take a little tour of the Isle of Lesbos, change your ringtone to "I Kissed A Girl," and come out to your parents (then maybe take it back a week later to date the cute guy you met at the GrrrlPower Rally). Unfortunately, once you're married, "experimenting" with somebody who isn't your spouse is called cheating, regardless of whether you're "Chasing Amy" -- or in your case, Chasing Amy's Mother.

I'm sure this woman is all that and a bag of Indigo Girls CDs, but she's also a convenient distraction from your difficult marriage already in progress. Adding to the fun is the drama: Your crush is small-town famous, married, and has shown zero interest in you, women, or becoming a divorced woman with a girlfriend. Of course, getting high on the prospect of forbidden love beats getting over to a marriage counselor: "It's raining, it's pouring, my marriage is boring!"

Every time you moon over this woman, you're giving your brain's motivation and reward centers a hit of the neurotransmitter dopamine. In doing that, you're the cartoon horse with the carrot in front of its face, repeatedly engaging your brain in reward-seeking without reward-satisfaction, and revving an attraction into an obsession. Anthropologist Helen Fisher explains in Why We Love: "When a reward is delayed, dopamine-producing cells in the brain increase their work, pumping out more of this natural stimulant to energize the brain, focus attention, and drive the pursuer to strive even harder to acquire a reward."

You get out of a habit the same way you get in: through repetition. Every time you don't let yourself think about this woman, it'll be a little easier to not think about her the next time. Of course, you can't just say "I'm not going to think about her." When you start, you need to shove the thoughts out of the way by engaging your memory and your speech (when you're talking and remembering, you can't also be obsessing). Have a substitute program at the ready: Recite the Cyrillic alphabet, run through the 50 states and their capitals, and move on to Canada if need be...whatever it takes to pry your mind off how dreamy her varicose veins look when the sun hits them.

This brain retraining will be really hard at first, and seem stupid and futile, but it should eventually take if you keep at it. And you do need to keep at it. Only when you stop being the lab rat pushing the little bar for the hit of middle-aged married woman will you have clarity on why looking at your husband sends you into a heterosexually vegetative state.

Now, maybe you are a lesbian late bloomer, bi-curious, or just bored-curious. But, it's possible that you're simply angry and resentful and maybe worried that your husband will go back on the sauce. While men can have sex without an emotional connection, women generally need to feel emotionally close to their partner first. You won't figure out what your deal is by chasing this woman around the hors d'oeuvres table but by taking a hard look at the man and the marriage you still have. You may need to forgive him in order to want him again. You may need more proof that he won't rekindle his affair with Jack Daniel and Mr. Cuervo. Or, you may need him to be a chick. In which case...sayonara. As successful as many people are in going to A.A. meetings and "humbly asking God to remove their shortcomings," it's best if those shortcomings are things like impulsivity and anger issues -- not testicles.

My girlfriend and I are planning to get married this year. Her finances are in perfect order (she's frugal, with no debts, while I owe $8K on credit cards), so we agreed that she'd manage our money after marriage. But recently, something happened that has me worried. I bought a ski jacket and asked her opinion on it (color, style) and bragged that I'd gotten it for only $40. We both love deals, and she likes to have input into how I dress. But, she turned what used to be a fun moment together into a lecture about how I don't need another jacket and should be clearing my debt instead of spending. I'm afraid I'll see this escalating after marriage.

"Hey, honey!" you call to your girlfriend, who looks up from the sink where she's rinsing out plastic bags to reuse. "How do I look in my spiffy new jacket?" Of course, you're fishing for a compliment -- "Like a million bucks!" -- not an estimate: "Like $8,040 in debt, if you don't count fees and interest."

Unfortunately, one man's el-cheapo ski jacket is one woman's quilted nylon warning sign. The way you see it, it's not like you did a P. Diddy and splurged on some one-of-a-kind parka they had to kill 20 ostriches and a baby seal to make. The way she sees it, there's always going to be a $40 something-or-other twinkling at you from a store window, and instead of the voice of fiscal prudence, you'll hear "Visa: It's everywhere you want to be!" (Modeling cut-rate ski-wear in bankruptcy court?)

Couples who have no problem laying out their weird sex proclivities on date three go all shy schoolgirl when it comes to talking about money, or figure they'll just get married and work out the financial nitty-gritty later. Bad idea. A person's relationship with money is complex: It comes out of how they were raised, experiences they've had, and their genetics. You and your girlfriend are overdue for a frank discussion about how you each view money (Hopes! Fears! Dreams!), the origins of your thinking, and where you think your shortcomings are. Opening up about your money issues should help you have compassion for each other's fears: in her case, living pawn ticket to pawn ticket; in your case, spending a lifetime having your allowance docked by your mother.

You can probably come up with reasons for buying that ski jacket ("No sooner did I come home than she was raining on my parade!"). But, since you're about to enter a partnership, it would be a show of good faith to act more like a partner -- like your actions have bearing on the whole. You and she should probably have a joint account for mutual expenses (bills, trips, savings) and separate accounts to use as you wish. As long as you're paying off your debt and aren't racking up more, you two should have a deal that she doesn't get to lecture you or even give you an eye roll about what you buy. But, before you marry, be sure that you can accept each other's differences. For a relationship to work, you need to find "that thing your partner does" endearingly annoying as opposed to annoyingly annoying...even if you can't buy into their notion that the fundamental human needs are air, water, food, shelter and bugging the dog with the coolest new battery-operated, radio-controlled helicopter.

A gay guy from work invited me to his wedding, and I'm wondering how it will be different from a regular wedding. I don't want to say or do the wrong thing.

Gay marriage can take some getting used to. As Craig Kilborn put it, marriage has long been "a sacred union between a man and a pregnant woman." The truth is, a gay wedding is generally just slightly more gay than weddings already are, with all the ice sculptures, tiny foo-foo snacks on little silver trays, and ludicrous flower arrangements. Sure, the guys' gift registry might test your comfort level with a request for some bizarre item for their bedroom -- like a table lamp from Crate & Barrel. And, at the ceremony, you will probably be asked to participate in some weird rituals like toasting to the couple's happiness and eating cake. Beyond that, a gay wedding is "a regular wedding" in that two people in love are pledging to spend their lives together. They'll let you know, in subtle or direct ways, what to call them (husband and husband, partners, etc.). Otherwise, the usual wedding rules are in effect: Don't chew with your mouth open, take the liquor home with you, or try to grope the bride (should you spot one wandering down the highway on your way home).