Overruled by Lana Ferguson: Reflections on Sex, Desire, and Couple Routine

It's a time when I'm feeling curious about sex in general. From both a woman's and a man's perspective. I believe that, despite living in the information age, sex still remains a mystery to many. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the last Millennial to stay up-to-date, or if the issue is actually still real and deeply felt by many—and by many.

Plot of Overruled by Lana Ferguson

Overruled tells the story of two lawyers with opposite personalities, a dog and a cat, but not in the banal way one might expect. He is a well-drawn character, with coherent thoughts and ideas—more coherent, perhaps, than the protagonist. The atmosphere is vaguely reminiscent of telenovelas, but perhaps telenovelas, after all, manage to portray a more real life than we're willing to admit . The bridge that unites the two protagonists is, of course, sex. Fiery, intense, almost cinematic sex. It was published on July 1st of this year, so it hasn't yet been translated into Italian.

And while reading all those scenes, I admit, at times I felt deeply involved. But at other times I wondered: is it really possible for a couple to have sex like that? I wondered if this was one of those books that aim to spark something, that somehow indirectly "teach" how to do it, or if it wasn't, ultimately, a little unfair. Because if I were to base my expectations on the plot, I—in all honesty—would be disappointed. But it hasn't always been this way...

Let's talk about sex

So I ask myself: is it a question of chemistry? Is it there or isn't it?

Is it a matter of physiology?

Is this the famous changing body?

Or is it something you can work on, improve on, rediscover?

And when routine creeps in, how do you really break it?

Perhaps the truth is that real sex has nothing literary about it. There's no background music, not always the right lighting or physical confidence. There's embarrassment, curiosity, the unsaid. But there's also a kind of truth that doesn't always emerge in fiction: that of truly knowing one another.

For example, in Overruled , oral sex was often mentioned before the actual act. And not in a vulgar or hasty way, but as a natural part of intimacy.

It reassured me, in a way. Because physical attraction, boundless love, and a perfectly cooperating physiology are all well and good, but really, ALWAYS? ALWAYS ready right away seems like too much to me.

Perhaps intimacy isn't born from passion, but from the freedom to show ourselves as we are, to understand each other, with or without an emotional connection, to love giving each other pleasure. And maybe that's where sex stops being merely physical and becomes something that transforms us. And yet, that passion, that lust, that hot, moist, pulsating passion should always be there for me. And as I write, I'm convinced it's a matter of method.

l sesso reale non è perfetto come nei film, ma è lì che nasce la connessione vera: quando smettiamo di fingere.

Other material that talks about sex

Let me explain. I'm rewatching the Netflix series Valeria .

The third season highlights what was clear from the beginning: Víctor's character is someone who has a lot of casual sex.

And it's true: in real life there are many people like this.

And I'm not just talking about men.

So no, it's not about penis or vagina.

It must be a question of method.

And perhaps, deep down, as with so many other things… eating makes you hungry .

And then, to answer some of my questions, I search the internet, and what do I find? That no, I'm not alone.

According to an article in Il Fatto Quotidiano published in April 2024, only 41.6% of couples between 18 and 40 have sex at least twice a week.

The expert's advice? Put that moment on your calendar. It made me smile, but also reflect. Because maybe it's not just a question of desire, but of time, space, and the priorities of that infamous STRESS.

And I wonder: if we have to plan sex too, where has the spontaneity gone?

Or maybe that's the point: learning to rediscover desire in everyday life, even when passion doesn't ignite on its own.

Maybe, in the end, the truth is that we don't talk about sex enough.

Not the spectacular one of movies or books, but the real, uncertain one, made of experiments, laughter, silences and attempts.

Yet it is precisely there that we learn to know ourselves—in understanding what we like, what blocks us, what changes within us.

I don't think I have the answers, but I know I want to search for them. I want to experiment, investigate, understand whether desire can truly be trained or whether it's simply a matter of learning to listen to it. Because, after all, how can we have realistic expectations—or even understand if something's wrong—if we continue to keep quiet about all this?