It was the first day of our honeymoon, but we were too tired to make love. The wedding, at a cliff side resort in Mexico, was both spiritual and boisterous—we exchanged vows under Buddhist prayer flags I’d brought home from Tibet, then partied to an eight-piece salsa band and laughed until we cried when our guests howled to a karaoke version of “Y.M.C.A.” during the band breaks. It was romantic, funny, beautiful, and transcendent. And exhausting. Now, as we lay in a swinging hammock next to our bungalow by the sea, nothing but lazy days ahead, we had time for abundant lovemaking. And a sex therapist must have a red-hot honeymoon, right?

Well, that depends on whether she planned for passion.

Read the full article published by New Harbinger here.