We've been living with dating apps for some years now. What's more, we could say they've become the most common way to meet people and hook up. But it also seems that being a user of these platforms is a kind of vicious circle. We enter them with enthusiasm, we get a match, we have some conversations and, with luck, a date. In the end, however, we discover it's not what we were looking for, that it makes us cringe or, in the worst case, they end up breaking our hearts. We delete them, clearly stating we'll never go back to the devil's app again, but after a while, we download it again. And so, time and time again, each time with a little less hope.

We have been sold a very limited idea of sex. We have been made to believe that a good sex life depends on an erection, on penetration, or on reaching orgasm in a certain way. But reality is much richer than all that.

We like simple explanations: “I started using hormonal contraception and lost my desire for sex.” But desire is probably one of the most complex phenomena of human sexuality. Hormones influence it, yes, but so do stress, relationship quality, mental health, mental load, rest, or life stage.

More than half of people over 65 have an active sex life, according to the 2025 National Sexual Health Survey. However, we find it hard to imagine them having sexual relations.

If there's one thing I'm sure of in this life, it's that machismo doesn't just harm women. It also greatly harms men. And it's a reality I often see in my practice.

In the beginning, everything is rosy. You find it adorable how they eat fruit, how they leave their shoes in the hall, or even how they snore. But then comes cohabitation, the famous trial by fire, and suddenly what you found endearing causes you a monumental ick.

The big question in first-year psychology is: is human behavior determined by genetics or context? The answer is, basically, a bit of both, so I've just saved you four years of a degree.

If there were a mathematical formula for a relationship to work, we would have patented it years ago. But love has the bad habit of resisting recipes. Nevertheless, there are theories that, without providing absolute answers, help us understand why some relationships thrive and others end up deflating.

There's a question I often ask: does anyone remember seeing a clitoris in their school anatomy book? I don't. Instead, there were penises, testicles, uteruses, ovaries, and fallopian tubes. The clitoris, simply, wasn't there. As if it didn't exist.

When we think about menopause, the same words often come to mind: hot flashes, vaginal dryness, decreased libido. It seems like sexuality is inevitably headed for decline. But what if what's ending isn't sexuality itself, but a specific way of understanding it?

It is one of the most common questions regarding sexuality at a given moment in life. And also one that generates the most pressure. When can we have relations again? As if there were a specific day on the calendar when the body would lift the blinds and say: "That's it, everything is back to how it was before."

The G-spot is a bit like the Holy Grail of sexuality. It's been talked about for decades, and yet it remains surrounded by myths. For many years, we were told that there was a magic spot inside the vagina that allowed women to reach orgasm through penetration. And, honestly, this idea fit very well with a completely coitocentric model, which needed to justify that penetration should be the center of female pleasure.

Whenever I visit a couple with children, I pay attention. Do they have a lock on the bedroom door? It might seem like a strange obsession, but for me, it's a small detail loaded with meaning. Because putting a lock on a door isn't just installing a mechanism; it's setting a boundary and protecting a space of intimacy.

There is a phrase I would like us to stop repeating once and for all: "It's normal for sex to hurt". They have sold it to us in many ways: that the first time is like that, that if you haven't had sex in a while it's normal for it to hurt, that it will pass, that you just need to relax... And, without realizing it, we have ended up assuming that pain is part of sex.

Perhaps you've heard of it, or perhaps its vintage name sounds more familiar: sadomasochism. But BDSM is much more than an imaginary world loaded with leather, myths, and misunderstandings. Under these acronyms are grouped erotic practices such as bondage, discipline, domination, submission, sadism, and masochism. And, above all, there is an indispensable condition: consent.

The answer is simple: never. It's never too early to start talking about sexuality with children. In fact, the sooner we do it, the better.

Many times when we lack desire we think it is because there are no things that are exciting us. Because our partner no longer attracts us, because we are asexual –oh, how many times have I heard that word used incorrectly!–, because we are not very interested in the subject… But there is something we do not see, and that is that when we talk about desires not everything is about impulses, but also about brakes.

Often in consultation I encounter an idea that repeats itself much more than we would like: people, especially girls, who explain that during sex they “see themselves from the outside”. As if, instead of living the experience, they were observing themselves in the third person, paying attention to how they move, whether they are doing it well, how their body looks, the light, the posture. This has a name: spectatoring, or the spectator effect. 

I hope I don't ruin anyone's day with this statement, but no, love can't do it all.

Most of us will remember the scene from the movie The Intouchables where the protagonist reaches orgasm through ear stimulation. But... to what extent is this real?