By guest blogger Susan Kuchinskas


Spring is in full bloom in northern California. The cherry trees have their wedding-lace blossoms on, while the plums and peaches are already gestating the rosy orbs of late summer. In the park, shapely legs and bare shoulders are turning heads. It's mating season.

My friend is thinking about mating, too. It's been five years since she lost her partner of 28 years, and for the first time, she's met someone she likes. Their first date went well, and now she's trying not to plummet into that state of anxious obsessive desire that we call falling in love.

I encourage her to take it slow. "As I say in my book," I say ponderously, and we both laugh. (That's the first time I get to say that, it's great.) But the book does say it, and the science supports it: "Take it slow. You don't even need to decide if you're really dating."

Great advice, but it's hard to take. Everything in the media tells us we should fall in love immediately, today, at first sight and forever. Getting to know you? That comes later, but don't worry, love is everlasting, right?

Compare this to the rest of the mammals -- and birds, too. There's usually courtship before mating. The male bower bird must create a stupendous nest to prove he's a worthy mate. The male humpback whale composes a unique and intricate song to lure love across the deep. The courtship period probably is crucial to the female mammal, who must risk her life to give birth and nurse. We talk of their "coming into season;" their bodies know that it's not always time to mate. Testing and trusting a potential mate is the crucial first step. For example, virgin females of the monogamous prairie vole only come into season after they've spent time in close proximity to the prospective mate. I call this rodent dating.

Research has shown that the female prairie vole's response to the male is the result of oxytocin, a neurochemical responsible for reducing anxiety, bonding and parental care in this species. This response seems to have evolved in order to let the female make sure the male was healthy, non-aggressive and available for mating before the female invested in producing his offspring. In other words, she has to make sure she can trust him.

Further research on humans indicates that oxytocin is just as important for our own ability to trust and love. It makes just as much evolutionary sense that a woman needed to trust a man before she bore his children. He need to trust her to accept his seed and no other. I believe that this need for a courtship period remains in us today. This holds true whether you're gay or straight, plan to reproduce or be childless, want to marry or cohabit or maintain separate living quarters from your lover.

Lust leads to sex, and during sex, our brains release oxytocin, which causes us to feel bonded with the sex partner. It literally is making love. But we can short-circuit this oxytocin release, and turn off its bonding effects, if we're anxious or afraid. We need trust to make love. And real trust doesn't happen on the first date.

"For every time, there is a season." It's a wonderful season for courtship. Just as I wouldn't want this lush spring to be one day shorter, I hope my friend can enjoy a slow and delicious season of courtship. And I hope that in autumn, she'll be rewarded with its sweet and juicy fruit.


Susan Kuchinskas is a journalist and author of Chemistry of Connection: How the Oxytocin Response Can Help You Find Trust, Intimacy, and Love.  Her oxytocin webiste is Hug The Monkey.