Opinion: Dr. Ruth taught us not only about sex, but also chosen family

Editor’s Note: Allison Gilbert is a journalist and the author and co-author of six books, including the forthcoming “The Joy of Connections: 100 Ways to Beat Loneliness and Live a Happier and More Meaningful Life,” written with Dr. Ruth K. Westheimer and Pierre Lehu, coming September 3. The views expressed in this commentary are hers. View more opinion at CNN.

CNN
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Dr. Ruth Westheimer, the trailblazing sex therapist who was named New York’s Honorary Ambassador to Loneliness last year, died on Friday at the age of 96. That history-making appointment — one that Dr. Westheimer broke political norms to campaign for — capped a lifetime of creating something from nothing, including a family to call her own. After her parents were killed by the Nazis during the Holocaust, she said, “I had an obligation to make a dent in the world.”

And a dent she made. Dr. Westheimer — who was widely known as Dr. Ruth — was in her early fifties when she became the first therapist to use mass media to educate adults and hormone-buzzing teenagers about sex. For more than four decades, she talked unapologetically to audiences on radio and TV — without the use of euphemisms — about orgasms, premature ejaculation, sexually transmitted diseases and more. She single-handedly made it acceptable for millions to talk openly about subjects that many had previously confined to pillow talk. “You have changed sex for America,” comedian Jerry Seinfeld jested as a guest on “The Dr. Ruth Show” three years before “Seinfeld” aired for the first time. “Now it’s like a sport. Now people suit up for the game.”

When Dr. Westheimer launched her radio program, “Sexually Speaking,” in 1980, it was pre-recorded, ran after midnight on Sundays for 15 minutes, and aired only on WYNY-FM in New York City. One year later, the famously impatient and feverishly ambitious therapist petitioned the community-affairs director to go bigger — a live, one-hour show, and permission to take listener phone calls. The answer was yes, yes, and yes. Three years after that, Dr. Westheimer pushed again, this time to take her show national. “If you want me, let’s syndicate the show,” she told another boss. “If not, I’ll go somewhere else.”

Dr. Westheimer was soon heard on more than 90 radio stations across the country. She eventually brought her candid sex talk to the page. She wrote a popular syndicated newspaper column and her first book, “Dr. Ruth’s Guide to Good Sex,” was published in 1983, followed in quick succession by dozens of others, including “First Love,” “Dr. Ruth’s Guide for Married Lovers,” and “Dr. Ruth’s Guide to Safer Sex.” She worked relentlessly to reach new audiences and succeeded by expanding her fanbase to television with  “The Dr. Ruth Show,” “The All New Dr. Ruth Show,” “You’re On the Air with Dr. Ruth,” and more. At a diminutive 4’7,” she became a bigger-than-life celebrity.

“She had a gift for speaking frankly and openly that put people at ease and allowed them to be vulnerable,” reflected Peggy Orenstein, author of The New York Times bestselling books “Boys & Sex” and “Girls & Sex.” “And because she was not a bombshell (no offense to Dr. Ruth) or overtly sexy, she telegraphed that we all — regardless of age, shape, gender, appearance — have the right to, and the possibility of, a satisfying sex life. There has simply been no one like her.”

Debby Herbenick, director of the Center for Sexual Health Promotion at Indiana University, wrote: “Countless of us have been described at various times as ‘the next Dr. Ruth’ though of course there is only one Dr. Ruth. She was an exceptional human being, who cared not just about sex but also ethics and human connection and intimacy and peace.”

Carol Queen, founding director of San Francisco’s Center for Sex and Culture and author of several books about sex and sexuality, including “The Sex & Pleasure Book,” recalled Dr. Westheimer’s early and profound support of gay rights. “In the 1980s, a deeply fraught decade with AIDS fear looming over most Americans, Dr. Ruth stepped up to do the most reassuring thing possible: talk compassionately about all kinds of sex,” she said. While anti-LGBTQ sentiments were rife during the AIDS epidemic, Dr. Westheimer said, “Let’s educate and let’s find a cure.”

Born Karola Ruth Siegel, Dr. Westheimer was 10 years old and living in Frankfurt, Germany, when she saw her parents for the last time. Hitler was on the move, and as an only child, she boarded a Kindertransport train alone in 1939, along with other German Jewish children to escape. She was placed in a children’s home in Heiden, Switzerland, where she remained until the end of the war.

There were so many parentless children living under the same roof that they eventually began to lean on each other like siblings. Dr. Westheimer made the effort to stay in touch with these friends throughout her life. Their “shared experiences,” she told me, had bonded them forever. She maintained contact with Walter, her first boyfriend in Switzerland, for more than 80 years. When they met, she was still using her birthname, and so he continued to call her “Karola” whenever they’d speak on the phone or see each other in person over the decades. In a reflection of their enduring connection, Walter wrote of his friend’s death in an email on Saturday, “I knew it had happened, I felt it.” Over the course of her life, she amassed dozens of family stand-ins like Walter, each one keeping her grounded and going.

Dr. Westheimer went on to marry three times, give birth to two children, have four grandchildren, and continued to collect friends like precious stones, whether they were her neighbors, colleagues, publicists, lawyers or accountants. Once they were drawn into her web of charm, they found themselves willingly trapped. She worked hard at these connections. With dedication and purpose, she tended to these friendships, shaping them into the kinds of relationships that withstood distance and time. “Not only do I think that I am a good friend, I am a superb friend,” she once told me, laughing. “I am like the best friend anybody could have!”

When Dr. Westheimer had a small stroke last year, her daughter sent email updates about her health to a small group of people, including me. My addition was perfunctory, I thought. Dr. Westheimer and I had only just begun getting to know each other when I was reporting on her becoming New York State’s Ambassador to Loneliness. Unlike the others on the list who were relatives or friends who had known her for years, I was convinced that I made the email chain because we were, by that time, writing a book together. I was her co-author, after all. Her business partner.

That was the wrong assumption. Our relationship was changing, though the evolution was so slow and imperceptible that I wasn’t yet aware of it.

During that brief hospitalization, Dr. Westheimer had invited me to visit her. Then, a few weeks later, well after she was released, we celebrated my birthday together with vanilla cupcakes, and a few months after that, she invited me to her intimate, friends-and-family- only 96th birthday party. Sometime that evening, perhaps during the celebratory toasts or maybe during dinner, I found myself sitting in a plush chair, taking in the festivities, smiling and feeling incredibly lucky to have been invited. Something magical had occurred. Without much fanfare, Dr. Westheimer had decided to make me a member of her chosen family, too.