Practice and perseverance work wonders

This article is published in issue 19 of Vanity Fair on newsstands until May 10, 2022

What if the clause in Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck’s prenup about having sex four times a week (whether it’s true or not doesn’t matter, that’s the food for thought we’re interested in here) was brilliant? What if everyone, myself included, who giggled or snorted or said “for heaven’s sake” were a bit hypocritical and bigoted or lazy or insincere with themselves? What if the obligation, rather than spoiling, taken in the right direction were exciting and favored complicity?
Come to think of it, what contraindications there are to having sex regularly with those you love
(and even with whom you don’t love, if you like it, to be honest)?

A recent experience of mine made me realize something that you out there probably knew very well: practice and consistency work wonders. The recent experience was breaking a tendon and going to the physiotherapist, who tried to explain to me why doing those simple exercises even for just five minutes a day but at least three times a week would have made me fully recover my ankle mobility. It’s not that he tried, he explained it to me very well and in great detail and I’m sure he’s right. Every time I go to him I promise myself to absolutely do the exercises, the problem is that I forget, and I just do them every now and then, like while I wait for the coffee to rise, when I remember. But if it were a thing for two to do by contract, something also very pleasant, I would not forget it. And it’s probably true that the more you do it the better it comes to you. And if maybe sometimes you don’t really want it and you do it anyway, what will it ever be? It’s so good afterwards.

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