Hi Reader,

I was recently interviewed by my old friend Eileen Kelly for her first Vogue piece, where she shares her own (failed) threesome experiences—and we explored what it actually takes to make threesomes work.

👉 check out the Vogue article here​

It’s a topic I’ve thought about deeply—personally, professionally, and academically—and today, I want to share more of my own perspective.

Let’s be honest: threesomes are one of the most common sexual fantasies out there. (According to Dr. Justin Lehmiller, over 80% of Americans have fantasized about a threesome—based on findings from his large-scale survey on sexual fantasies, published in his book Tell Me What You Want.)

For some people, they’re empowering, electric, and deeply connective.

For others, they turn confusing or even painful—not because the idea was flawed, but because the emotional scaffolding just wasn’t there.

So why do we want them in the first place?

Sometimes it’s about novelty.

Sometimes it’s about feeling desired.

Sometimes it’s about being seen in a new way, by your partner or by someone new.

But for a lot of people, it’s not just about sex—it’s about validation. It’s about proving something to yourself or your partner. And that’s where things can get tricky.

I’ve been there myself. When my partner and I took our first step into group play last year, we started with an FFM threesome—partly because we were both excited about women, but also because it felt like a configuration with the least emotional friction. It allowed us to explore a shared fantasy while staying connected to each other.

(If you missed it, you can read that story here.)

We didn’t start there just because it was “safe”—we started there because it felt honest. That’s the part people skip when they’re rushing to have a “hot” experience: what actually feels grounded for you, in this season of your relational life?

I’ve seen this go sideways in so many ways:

• People hoping a threesome will “fix” a broken relationship
• Someone agreeing to it just to keep a partner happy
• Not realizing that the hottest person in the room might also be the most emotionally destabilizing

When threesomes fall apart, it’s almost never about the sex. It’s about emotional mismatches, unmet expectations, and unspoken boundaries.

That’s why I use the BIDs framework (Boundaries, Intentions, Desires) as a foundation for any kind of group play. It’s simple, but incredibly effective:

• Boundaries: What’s on the table? What’s off it? What happens if something gets uncomfortable?
• Intentions: Why are we doing this? What are we hoping to feel or experience?
• Desires: What do you want from this—physically, emotionally, relationally?

These are the conversations that need to happen before clothes come off.

And the ones that need to happen after, too—ideally within a day or so. If there are any lingering feelings like jealousy or insecurity, they need to be acknowledged and worked through, not ignored or brushed aside.

As I said in the Vogue piece: the sex might be short-lived, but the emotional echoes can last a lot longer.

One of the biggest myths I see is that a threesome will bring people closer. And it can, but only if the foundation is already strong. If there are insecurities, trust ruptures, or unmet needs in the relationship, a threesome won’t fix them. It will magnify them.

But when you approach it with curiosity, honesty, and emotional attunement? It can be an incredibly expansive experience—one that deepens not just your erotic world, but your capacity for connection, communication, and consent.

So whether you’re polyamorous, open, monogamish, or just curious about this kind of play, here’s what I’ll leave you with:

Threesomes aren’t about performance. They’re about presence.
And when done right, they’re not just hot—they’re healing.

With curiosity,
Dr. Zhana