At JFK’s passport office, the line is longer than the security checkpoint.

A young couple scrolls Lisbon apartments on Zillow; a student behind them rehearses her French visa interview. It isn’t wanderlust — it’s quiet evacuation.

According to the American Psychological Association’s Stress in America survey, nearly two-thirds of adults under 35 have considered moving abroad this year.

Among parents, 53% have entertained the same thought. The country that once exported freedom now exports burnout.

In a world that preaches “sex-positivity,” it turns out we still prefer our neighbors to be romantic, not sexual—especially if they’re women.

We’ve commodified empowerment into podcasts, merch, and TED-style “liberation,” but according to a new study in The Journal of Sex Research, Sexual Ageism or Sexual Stigma? Sexual Double Standards and Disgust Sensitivity in Judgments of Sexual and Romantic Behavior, our moral instincts still can’t tell the difference between germs and desire.

The study, led by Gabriella Rose Petruzzello at the University of New Brunswick, found that folks judge sexually expressive souls more harshly than “romantic” ones—particularly when the subject is female.

Apparently, we can handle affection, just not anatomy.

Everybody loves the idea of a warm hug, a comfort stroke, the hand on the shoulder that says you’re safe.

But new research published in Current Psychology suggests that sometimes touch isn’t comfort—it’s control.

Emily R. Ives of the University of Virginia and Richard E. Mattson of Binghamton University examined how certain personality traits and attachment styles influence whether people recoil from touch or use it as a subtle instrument of dominance.

They found that those higher in the so-called Dark Triad—Machiavellianism, psychopathy, and narcissism—were both more likely to avoid affectionate touch and more likely to use it coercively.

It’s the emotional equivalent of saying, “Don’t touch me. Also, I’ll decide when we touch.”

For women, the connection ran through both insecure attachment and Dark Triad traits. For men, the pattern was simpler: insecurity alone predicted whether they used or avoided touch problematically.

New research shows that a mother’s milk doesn’t just feed her child — it keeps the receipts. Childhood trauma can leave molecular traces in breast milk, quietly shaping early development.

Mothers, Milk, and Memory explores how biology records the past — and how therapy, compassion, and time rewrite it.Somewhere between the lullaby and the lab report, biology keeps a diary.

A new study in Translational Psychiatry suggests that a mother’s milk can carry whispers of her childhood pain—encoded not in poetry but in molecules.

The finding doesn’t indict mothers; it simply reveals that biology has better record-keeping than the rest of us.

The first recorded transaction of sex for resources probably involved a goat, a fire, and a cave with decent acoustics.

Today it’s an a Motel 6 with a backdrop of porn on demand.

A new review in the Archives of Sexual Behavior by Hungarian psychologist Norbert Meskó revisits this eternal arrangement.

He calls it sexual-economic exchange—a term so neutral it sounds like it was workshopped by diplomats.

His argument: to understand why people keep swapping sex for stuff, you can’t pick a favorite discipline. Biology, psychology, and economics all have a stake in the bedroom.

There’s a Japanese phrase that sounds like a meditation bell if you say it slowly: Shu-Ha-Ri (守 破 離) — Obey, Break, Transcend.

It began as a martial arts concept, a way to describe the disciplined path from imitation to mastery.

But it’s really about human development — how we learn, how we grow, and how we finally let go.

Every art has its version of this arc. The calligrapher who spends years copying her teacher’s brushstrokes until her wrist remembers what her mind forgets.

The Aikido student who repeats the same throw until the body starts thinking for itself.

The therapist who learns to listen so precisely that theory dissolves into intuition.

The couple who practices communication skills long enough that kindness becomes reflex.

When one partner is neurodivergent and the other isn’t, life together can sometimes feel like a translation exercise without a dictionary.

Yet beneath the misunderstandings and the executive-function mismatches lies a surprising truth: these couples often possess unique relational strengths that neurotypical-neurotypical couples would envy—if only they knew how to see them.

Mixed-neurotype couples are often framed as “incompatible” because one partner processes social or sensory information differently.

But recent studies suggest that this difference, rather than a deficit, can create emotional depth and flexibility when both partners cultivate understanding (Crompton et al., 2023; Tchanturia et al., 2021).

In a neurodiverse marriage, one of the most common yet least understood sources of conflict isn’t malice, immaturity, or lack of love.

It’s executive dysfunction—the invisible set of skills that help us plan, initiate, and follow through.

When one partner struggles with executive functioning, everyday life can feel like an endless series of dropped balls, missed cues, and quiet resentments.

What Is Executive Functioning?

Every woman has two vocabularies: one for the world and one for herself.

The first is public—tidy, polite, and euphemistic.

The second is private—honest, messy, and usually whispered. What she calls her own body reveals what she was taught to hide, and what she’s learned to reclaim.

A new study in Sex Roles (Oschatz, Klein, Kovalcik, & Kahalon, 2025) confirms what feminist linguists have long suspected: the language women use for their genitals is not trivial. It’s diagnostic.

Women who reach for childish or coy terms tend to feel worse about their bodies. Those who can say the so-called “vulgar” words—without apology—report more pleasure, confidence, and connection.

In short: what you name, you own.

Most people go to the gym chasing endorphins and moral virtue.

A few leave questioning reality.

For some, abdominal workouts don’t just burn—they climax.

For decades, the “coregasm” sat somewhere between rumor and locker-room folklore until researchers at Indiana University’s Center for Sexual Health Promotion decided to study it like any other physiological event.

Led by Dr. Debby Herbenick, this team has spent more than ten years investigating exercise-induced orgasms (EIOs)—the phenomenon of reaching orgasm during physical activity without sexual fantasy or direct stimulation.

Their findings reveal a simple truth that still unsettles culture: the body does not always wait for consent.

Once upon a time, luxury meant imported marble and a concierge with a memory for faces. Now it means airplane mode.

“Offline is the new luxury” began as a meme on Instagram—a joke about burnout chic—but somewhere between irony and exhaustion, it became a social ideal.

In a world where attention is currency, silence has become the new status symbol. You’re not rich because you’re visible. You’re rich because you can vanish.

You love your partner, but your body doesn’t always agree.
The lights hurt. The fridge hums too loud.

A kiss feels like static. Then someone says, “All marriages are hard.”
But not like this.

If that sounds familiar, you might be living inside a neurodiverse marriage—a relationship between two good people whose nervous systems never got the same manual.

One runs hot, the other needs stillness. Both think they’re failing at love.