Performance Anxiety in the Bedroom: The Man’s Guide

11:43 PM on a Tuesday. Marcus has been lying still for four minutes. His wife is asleep on her side, facing away, and he’s staring at the ceiling with the specific alertness of a man who just failed at something he was supposedly built for. Performance anxiety in the bedroom visited him again tonight — the third time this month — and knowing the clinical name for what just happened doesn’t make it easier. The erection that wouldn’t arrive. The retreat into apology. The silence afterward, shaped like everything neither of them said. He’s thirty-eight, in good health, lifts four times a week, loves his wife, isn’t attracted to anyone else, has no identifiable reason for any of this. And yet here he is, ceiling-watching at midnight, already dreading next week.

He won’t tell his doctor. He won’t tell his friends. He’ll Google it at 1 AM from his phone in the bathroom, find seventeen conflicting articles, three ads for pills, and a Reddit thread that’s somehow both comforting and terrifying. By morning he’ll have convinced himself it’s hormonal, or psychological, or a sign of something worse. He’ll spend the following week slightly more tense around his wife, slightly more distant, which she’ll feel without understanding why — which creates exactly the emotional climate that makes the next encounter harder. He’s inside a loop and doesn’t know it yet.

This article is about that loop. What creates it, what sustains it, what the conventional advice gets catastrophically wrong, and what actually breaks it. The framework here is called the Performance Loop — a self-reinforcing anxiety cycle that has almost nothing to do with the body and everything to do with a man’s relationship with his own attention. Understanding it is the first step. Breaking it requires a specific kind of unlearning that most men resist because it feels like giving up control, when it’s actually the opposite.

The Moment: What Actually Happens When Anxiety Takes the Wheel

Lying next to her. She’s warm. She shifted closer a minute ago — that small, deliberate movement that means I am available — and his hand found her hip. That was the signal. And instead of feeling her skin beneath his palm, instead of noticing the heat radiating off her body in the dark, he left. Not physically. Still right there. But the mind evacuates to some control room behind the eyes where it’s running scenarios, calculating timing, reviewing the last time it went wrong. The hand is on her hip and there’s no one behind it.

She can feel the emptiness in the touch. Not because she’s psychic. Because presence has a texture, and so does its absence. What she feels is a hand with an agenda. A hand that’s already three moves ahead, gaming out positions, rehearsing outcomes, scripting an encounter it hasn’t earned. A hand connected to a man who’s performing sex before sex has even started. And the tragic irony — the thing that makes the Performance Loop so ruthlessly efficient — is that the harder a man concentrates on making it work, the further he travels from the only thing that would actually make it work: being in his body, in this moment, with her.

This is the moment most men in the loop experience on a weekly basis, and almost none of them can name what’s happening while it’s happening. They feel the anxiety arrive. They feel the body’s response to the anxiety. They interpret the physical symptom as confirmation of a deeper problem. And then they try harder, which is the worst possible response — the equivalent of accelerating when you’re already in a skid. The Performance Loop doesn’t care how much willpower gets thrown at it. It feeds on willpower. The harder the management effort, the tighter it gets.

Here’s the mirror moment: a work meeting where someone asks a question and the mind goes blank, and the blankness itself makes the panic worse, which makes the blankness worse. Or the gym, where a lift that’s been made a hundred times gets missed because someone’s watching, and the awareness of being watched scrambles a movement that’s automatic when no one’s looking. The Performance Loop is the same mechanism in a more intimate setting, with higher emotional stakes and a partner who can feel every flicker of absence. It is not a sexual problem. It is a nervous system problem wearing a sexual costume.

The Mechanism: What Your Nervous System Is Actually Doing

Sexual arousal and anxiety are both nervous system states, and the nervous system cannot fully occupy both at the same time. Understanding why requires a brief tour of the autonomic nervous system — not the pop-science version, the actual wiring diagram — because once it’s seen clearly, the Performance Loop makes complete sense and stops feeling like a personal failing.

The autonomic nervous system has two primary branches. The parasympathetic branch governs rest, digestion, and — critically — sexual arousal. Erection is a parasympathetic event: it requires the body to be in a state of relative safety and ease, with blood diverted toward the genitals and away from the muscles. The sympathetic branch governs fight-or-flight: it accelerates the heart, constricts blood vessels, floods the body with adrenaline, and redirects blood to the large muscle groups needed to run or fight. These two branches aren’t opponents fighting for dominance. They’re a seesaw.

One goes up, the other comes down.

Performance anxiety activates the sympathetic branch. The moment a man starts monitoring his own arousal — is this working, will this work, what if this doesn’t work — his brain registers an evaluative threat. The amygdala, the brain’s threat-detection center, doesn’t distinguish between a predator and a feared sexual failure. It responds the same way: sympathetic activation, adrenaline release, vasoconstriction. And vasoconstriction is the physiological opposite of erection. The system that prevents the thing being attempted has been directly triggered. This is not irony. It’s neuroscience.

Barry McCarthy, a clinical psychologist and sex therapist at American University who has spent four decades studying male sexual anxiety, describes this as the spectatoring problem. Men with performance anxiety become spectators of their own arousal — they exit the experience and climb into an observation booth to watch and evaluate what their body is or isn’t doing. McCarthy’s research, detailed in his book Men’s Sexual Health and published across journals including the Journal of Sex and Marital Therapy, shows spectatoring is the single most reliable predictor of erectile dysfunction in otherwise healthy men. Not age. Not health status. Not relationship quality. The spectatoring habit.

The neuroscience of this was mapped more precisely by researchers at the Kinsey Institute. Studies using fMRI imaging found that men experiencing sexual anxiety showed significant activation in the prefrontal cortex — the region responsible for evaluation, planning, and self-monitoring — during what should be arousal states. The prefrontal cortex, lit up like that, essentially competes with the limbic and autonomic systems that govern actual desire. The thinking is quite literally what’s undoing the arousal. The brain cannot simultaneously run the self-monitoring software and the arousal software at full capacity. Two users, one processor, and they’re fighting over it.

Stan Tatkin, a clinician and researcher who developed the Psychobiological Approach to Couples Therapy (PACT), adds another layer: the nervous system in intimate relationships is fundamentally co-regulatory. Which means arousal state is partly a function of a partner’s nervous system state, and hers is partly a function of his. Enter a sexual encounter in a state of anticipatory anxiety, and a partner’s nervous system detects it — not consciously, but through micro-signals: muscle tension, breathing pattern, quality of touch, eye contact or its absence. Her nervous system responds to those signals. She tightens slightly. The emotional warmth in the room cools by a degree. Which his nervous system reads as threat confirmation, which deepens the anxiety. The loop isn’t just inside one person. It runs between two.

This is why the Performance Loop intensifies in long-term relationships. With a new partner, novelty drives dopamine high enough to override the spectatoring tendency. After months or years together, novelty fades, and the default nervous system pattern — the one built through repetition — asserts itself. If the pattern is spectatoring and anxiety, the loop runs cleaner and more reliably as the relationship deepens. The dead bedroom that many couples eventually arrive at is often not a desire problem. It’s a nervous system problem that was never addressed, compounding quietly over years.

The Lie: Why Everything You’ve Been Told Makes It Worse

The conventional advice for male sexual performance anxiety falls into three categories, and all three make the Performance Loop worse. Understanding why isn’t academic. Follow this advice — and most men do, because it sounds reasonable — and the loop gets actively fed.

• Lie 1: Relax and don’t think about it. This is the advice most men get from partners, friends, and the few doctors who acknowledge the issue exists. It’s the instruction equivalent of telling someone not to think about a pink elephant. The directive to relax is itself a performance demand. Now there’s a new task — succeed at relaxing — and the nervous system is monitoring whether relaxation is happening enough, which is precisely the spectatoring posture that caused the problem in the first place. “Relax” is also useless advice because it provides no mechanism, no specific thing to do with attention. Attention always goes somewhere. Telling a man not to think about his performance without redirecting his attention to something else is like telling someone lost in the woods to stop being lost. Correct observation. Zero utility.
• Lie 2: It’s a physical problem, try a pill. PDE5 inhibitors — sildenafil (Viagra), tadalafil (Cialis) — are legitimate pharmacological tools with real clinical applications for men with organic erectile dysfunction. For men whose ED is primarily psychological and anxiety-driven, the pill solves a symptom without addressing the mechanism, and often makes things worse in the medium term. Here’s why: the pill works. Things function, and the brain learns to associate arousal with the pill, not with its own nervous system regulation. Try without it, and the absence of the pill becomes a new anxiety trigger. The spectatoring now includes monitoring whether the pill was taken in time, whether it’s working yet, whether this is the pill or the person. Several of McCarthy’s studies found men who used PDE5 inhibitors without concurrent psychosexual work had significantly higher relapse rates when they discontinued the medication. The pill is a cast. Wearing a cast forever doesn’t heal the bone.
• Lie 3: Push through it, try more. The opposite of avoidance is not forced engagement. Forcing sexual encounters when anxiety is high adds new negative conditioning to an already conditioned pathway. Every encounter that ends in disappointment while operating in high-spectatoring mode adds another data point to the nervous system’s threat map: sex = danger, evaluation, possible failure. Exactly the pathway that needs weakening gets strengthened instead. McCarthy calls this “performance pressure escalation” and documents it as one of the primary reasons the Performance Loop self-reinforces. The instinct to push through makes complete sense as a life philosophy for most challenges. In this specific context, it’s the wrong tool.

The fourth piece of conventional wisdom worth dismantling: the idea that performance anxiety is a sign of deeper relationship problems. Sometimes it is. Often it isn’t. McCarthy’s research is clear that performance anxiety occurs in loving, functional, attracted relationships with the same frequency it occurs in troubled ones. The anxiety isn’t diagnostic of how a man feels about his partner. It’s a nervous system habit that forms through specific conditions — usually a few disappointing encounters early in a relationship, or a period of stress that bled into the bedroom, or an age-related physical change interpreted catastrophically rather than normally. The story being told about what the anxiety means is usually wrong, and the wrong story deepens the loop.

The Protocol: How to Break the Performance Loop

The Performance Loop breaks through a specific sequence of interventions that work at the nervous system level rather than the cognitive level. Thinking a way out of this doesn’t work. Acting a way out does, through repeated experiences that teach the nervous system a different association. Six components. Sequence matters.

1. Declare a temporary moratorium on performance. The counterintuitive first move, and the one most men resist hardest. For two to three weeks, take intercourse off the table entirely. Not giving up — removing the performance demand that feeds the loop. When there’s no possible way to fail because success has been explicitly redefined as something other than erection and intercourse, the sympathetic nervous system loses its threat signal. This is a clinical technique from Masters and Johnson’s original sensate focus work in the 1960s and 1970s, refined by McCarthy and others across decades of clinical practice. It works because it removes the cognitive load of evaluation. There’s nothing to spectate in a performance that isn’t happening. Tell a partner what’s going on and why — honest communication about the loop is itself therapeutic, and a partner who understands is a partner whose nervous system can stop sending the subtle tension signals that feed the cycle.

2. Practice non-erotic presence first. During the moratorium, rebuild physical closeness without any sexual agenda. Skin contact — lying together, holding each other, massage — with the explicit frame that arousal isn’t the goal and escalation isn’t available. The purpose is to associate physical closeness with safety rather than evaluation. Seems absurdly simple. Works at a depth that surprises most men who try it. Nervous system co-regulation happens through proximity, breath, and touch, and doing this in a non-performance context rebuilds the parasympathetic baseline required. Ten minutes of this, done consistently, changes the nervous system’s prediction about what physical closeness means. The prediction is the whole target.

3. Redirect attention from outcome to sensation. When sexual activity resumes — gradually, not as a moratorium-ending event but a slow escalation over days — attention gets one job: feel the hands. Not perform with them. Feel them. The specific texture of skin. The warmth. The slight resistance under pressure. This isn’t mindfulness in the soft workshop sense. It’s a tactical attention redirect that pulls the prefrontal cortex out of evaluation mode and drops attention into the sensory present. McCarthy calls this “sensate focus.” Neurologically, the shift moves from evaluative prefrontal mode to sensory cortex, which is more compatible with the limbic arousal systems. A different part of the brain ends up driving. When evaluation creeps back in — and it will, dozens of times — attention returns to the hands. Not a big deal. Just come back. The return is the practice.

4. Let the erection do whatever it does. The hardest instruction and the most important one. When erections return — and they will, in a lower-stakes context with redirected attention — resist the urge to immediately use them. Let them arrive. Let them fade if they fade. Stay present through the fade without catastrophizing. This teaches the nervous system, somatically rather than intellectually, that softness isn’t an emergency. That lesson, absorbed at the body level rather than merely believed intellectually, is what finally breaks the loop. An erection that fades and returns during a relaxed encounter isn’t failure. It’s the nervous system healing. Most men have never experienced this because the erection was never given permission to do anything other than perform on demand.

5. Breathe audibly. Sound is evidence that someone’s home in the body. Audible breath — into the belly, exhale longer than the inhale — does two things. First, it physiologically activates the parasympathetic nervous system through vagal tone stimulation. The exhale is literally a parasympathetic signal; lengthening it is a mechanism, not a metaphor. Second, the breath gives her nervous system information. She can hear presence. Her nervous system responds to a partner’s nervous system state, and audible breath in a relaxed body is the most reliable signal of genuine presence a man can send. It can’t be faked, which means it can’t be performed, which means when it happens, it’s real, and she registers it as real. Every technique here ultimately works by making a man more real.

6. Stop watching pornography. Not a moral argument. Every session trains spectatoring. Pornography requires watching arousal from the outside — audience member, not participant. Running the Performance Loop already means being too prone to the spectator position. Regular pornography consumption deepens the neural pathway that pulls a man out of his body during sexual experience and into the observation booth. Research published in the Journal of Sexual Medicine in 2016 found higher frequency pornography use correlated with greater spectatoring tendencies and reduced real-partner satisfaction. Not morality. A neural pathway argument. Relearning how to inhabit a sexual experience doesn’t happen while regularly practicing the opposite.

This protocol runs over four to eight weeks for most men. The results aren’t linear. Week two is often harder than week one. The loop has momentum. But somewhere around week three, in a low-stakes encounter with redirected attention and no performance demand, something shifts. The body responds without being managed. And the nervous system encodes a new data point: this is possible without trying. That encoding is what the entire protocol builds toward.

The Proof: Performance Anxiety Bedroom: What The Evidence Reveals

The clinical evidence on psychogenic erectile dysfunction and performance anxiety is stronger than most men realize, partly because it isn’t a topic that gets much health journalism coverage. Worth laying out what the actual research shows.

A 2022 meta-analysis published in Sexual Medicine Reviews examined 14 randomized controlled trials involving cognitive-behavioral and sensate focus-based interventions for psychogenic erectile dysfunction. Combined sample size: over 2,400 men. The findings: psychosexual therapy alone produced clinically significant improvement in 65-75% of cases, effects maintained at 12-month follow-up. Higher than the success rates for PDE5 inhibitors in psychogenic cases, and dramatically better than either pills or talk therapy alone. The mechanism that worked was consistently the same: reducing spectatoring and rebuilding non-evaluative physical experience.

Barry McCarthy and Emily McCarthy’s longitudinal work, drawing on 30 years of clinical data and published in Cognitive and Behavioral Practice, identified that the average man with performance anxiety waits 18 to 24 months before seeking any help, during which time the loop deepens through repeated negative conditioning. By the time most men address this, roughly 18 months of nervous system data has already told them sex equals threat. That data doesn’t erase quickly. But it does erase — the brain’s neuroplasticity doesn’t shut off at the bedroom door.

The research on spectatoring specifically is compelling. Michael Wiederman at the University of South Carolina studied the spectatoring construct across multiple samples and found it to be the strongest mediator between sexual anxiety and sexual dysfunction in men — stronger than relationship quality, stronger than hormonal factors, stronger than health status in men under 60. His work, published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior, concluded spectatoring is essentially a learned habit of attention, which means it can be unlearned. Not a fixed trait. A practice that became automatic. Which means a different practice can become automatic in its place.

The nervous system co-regulation piece — Tatkin’s contribution — is supported by research from the Gottman Institute as well. John Gottman’s four decades of couples research, tracking over 3,000 couples longitudinally at the University of Washington, found physiological linkage between partners — the degree to which heart rates, skin conductance, and arousal states influence each other — is a strong predictor of relationship outcomes. Couples more physiologically linked are more vulnerable to each other’s stress states, which is both a feature and a bug. In a well-regulated couple, one partner’s calm stabilizes the other. In a couple where the man is running the Performance Loop, his anxiety transmits, she absorbs it, her response feeds it back. The actionable finding: co-regulation runs in both directions. Regulate, and she regulates, which makes the next encounter easier.

One piece of data worth flagging: a 2019 study in The Journal of Sexual Medicine found men who disclosed their performance anxiety to their partners prior to sexual encounters — clearly, non-dramatically, without over-explaining — had significantly better sexual outcomes than men who concealed it. The disclosure itself was therapeutic, not because talking fixes things but because concealment requires cognitive resources. Hiding the anxiety from a partner takes processing power that can’t then be directed toward presence. The secret is expensive. Telling is, the research shows, literally more efficient.

The Hard Truth: Presence Is the Only Performance That Works

There’s something uncomfortable sitting underneath all of this, worth naming directly, because most articles in this space avoid it.

The Performance Loop is not random. It forms in men who’ve organized their self-worth around competence. Men who need to be good at things, who find failure intolerable, who bring the same evaluative rigor to their bodies in bed that they bring to a project at work or a lift in the gym. These are often good qualities. They build careers and physiques and reliable reputations. In the bedroom, they’re a catastrophic mismatch. Sex is not a competency domain. It cannot be optimized from the outside. The harder the effort to be good at it in the way other things get mastered, the worse it gets. Uniquely frustrating for men accustomed to effort producing results.

The hard truth is this: the man who has broken the Performance Loop does not become passive or soft. He becomes something far more effective than the performer ever was — he becomes real. Real erotic presence is not choreography. It’s the capacity to be fully in your body while fully attuned to hers. To move from desire rather than from a script. To hold her gaze without calculation. To slow down when instinct says speed up. To let silence exist without filling it with performance.

Presence is the most effective thing a man can bring to bed. Not dominance as control, but gravity — the quality that makes her feel held and anchored to something that isn’t going to flinch. The performer is always brittle. He can be shattered by a single wrong reaction, a moment of softness, an unexpected sound. The present man cannot be shattered because he isn’t holding a shape. He’s just there — responsive, alive, unarmored. And that unarmored aliveness is what women describe when they say the sex was incredible and struggle to explain why. Not the duration or the technique. Someone was actually in the room.

Here’s what nobody warns a man about going in: the unlearning is harder than the learning. Most men can read this, understand the mechanism, follow the logic, and then go home and run the Performance Loop in exactly the same way — because understanding a concept and having it change behavior are completely different events, separated by weeks of practice under pressure. The intellectual version arrives in twenty minutes. The somatic version — actually staying present through a moment of softness without catastrophizing, the attention redirect to the hands happening automatically rather than deliberately — takes the four to eight weeks the protocol describes. That gap between understanding and doing is where most men get stuck. They read the article. They nod. They keep spectatoring.

This connects to emotional intelligence in ways that are easy to miss. The ability to stay present in discomfort — to feel anxiety without being consumed by it, to notice the spectatoring impulse without following it — is the same skill required for hard conversations, for conflict without withdrawal, for showing up when everything says escape. The bedroom is not a separate domain with separate rules. It’s a mirror. The man who can regulate himself under the specific pressure of sexual anxiety can regulate himself anywhere. And the man who can’t is leaking that inability everywhere, whether he notices or not.

No pill, no therapist, no clever technique is coming to fix this from the outside. What exists is a protocol, built on real research, that works when it’s worked. The central engine is attention, directed deliberately, over weeks, until the new pattern is more automatic than the old one. That’s the whole job. Not complicated. Not easy. Exactly as available as it’s decided to be.

Sources & Further Reading

• The Gottman Institute — relationship research

Reader Questions About Performance Anxiety Bedroom: Performance Anxiety in the Bedroom

Is performance anxiety in the bedroom a permanent condition? No. Performance anxiety is a learned nervous system pattern — a habit of attention (spectatoring) that develops through specific conditioning experiences. Learned patterns can be unlearned. Multiple trials confirm: psychosexual interventions based on sensate focus and attention redirection show 65-75% clinically significant improvement rates, maintained at 12-month follow-up, according to a 2022 meta-analysis in Sexual Medicine Reviews. This is a problem with a reliable solution, not a permanent diagnosis. What makes it feel permanent is the tendency to avoid addressing it, during which the loop deepens through repeated negative conditioning.

How do I tell my partner about performance anxiety without making it worse? Simply, briefly, and before the next encounter rather than during or after. Something like: “I’ve been in my head during sex lately in a way that’s making it harder. I wanted to tell you, not because I need you to fix it, but because hiding it takes energy I’d rather be spending on being with you.” This disclosure, according to a 2019 Journal of Sexual Medicine study, actually improves outcomes because it eliminates the cognitive load of concealment. Avoid over-explaining or making it a major relationship conversation. State it clearly, answer questions, move on. The goal is to remove the secret, not to turn the secret into a new topic to ruminate over together.

What is spectatoring and how does it create the Performance Loop? Spectatoring is the habit of mentally exiting a sexual experience to observe and evaluate it from the outside. Coined by Masters and Johnson and extensively researched by Michael Wiederman, it activates the prefrontal cortex (evaluation mode) during what should be an arousal state. The prefrontal cortex competes neurologically with the limbic and autonomic systems that drive desire — when evaluation is running, arousal is throttled. The Performance Loop forms when spectatoring produces a disappointing outcome, the disappointing outcome creates anticipatory anxiety, the anxiety triggers more spectatoring, and the cycle self-reinforces. The entire loop is a function of where attention goes, which is why the solution is an attention redirect rather than a willpower push.

Why does performance anxiety get worse in long-term relationships? Two reasons. First, novelty drives dopamine high enough in early relationships to override the spectatoring tendency — new-partner anxiety masks performance anxiety. As novelty fades, the underlying nervous system pattern asserts itself. Second, long-term partners develop physiological linkage through Stan Tatkin’s co-regulation mechanism: each partner’s nervous system influences the other’s. When the Performance Loop is running, the man’s anxiety transmits to his partner through micro-signals (muscle tension, breathing, quality of touch), her nervous system registers it as low safety, her subtle response feeds back as a threat signal, deepening the loop. This is why the dead bedroom is often a nervous system problem rather than a desire problem.

Should I use medication like Viagra for performance anxiety? PDE5 inhibitors are legitimate tools for organic erectile dysfunction. For psychogenic (anxiety-driven) cases, they address the symptom without the mechanism and can create dependency on the medication as a psychological crutch. McCarthy’s research found higher relapse rates in men who used PDE5 inhibitors without concurrent psychosexual work versus those who addressed the spectatoring pattern directly. If medication gets used, it works best as a bridge alongside the sensate focus protocol — not as a standalone fix. The medication question is secondary to the attention pattern question, because even with pharmacological support, a high-spectatoring man eventually ends up back where he started.

How long does it take to break the Performance Loop? Most men notice a qualitative shift around weeks three to four of a consistent sensate focus protocol — the first encounter where the body responds without being managed. Full pattern change, where the attention redirect happens automatically rather than deliberately, typically takes six to eight weeks of consistent practice. This aligns with Phillippa Lally’s 2009 research at University College London on habit formation, which found an average of 66 days for new automatic behaviors to consolidate. The loop didn’t form overnight, and it doesn’t dissolve overnight. But the initial shift — the first low-anxiety encounter — often arrives faster than expected once the performance demand is actually removed rather than pushed through.

What does the moratorium period actually look like in practice? It looks like physical closeness without intercourse for two to three weeks, explicitly agreed to by both partners. Affection, massage, sensate focus touch — skin contact with an explicit agreement that escalation is off the table. The explicit agreement is what makes it work: when intercourse is genuinely unavailable, not just unlikely, the spectatoring system has nothing to monitor. There’s nothing to evaluate in a performance that’s been agreed not to happen. Most men find the first few days of the moratorium uncomfortable — it feels like avoidance — and then something unexpected happens around day five or six: genuine arousal without agenda, something the nervous system hasn’t experienced in months or years. That experience is the first step out of the loop.

Is performance anxiety connected to how I feel about my partner? Not necessarily. Barry McCarthy’s clinical research is explicit on this point: performance anxiety occurs with the same frequency in loving, attracted, functional relationships as in troubled ones. The anxiety is not diagnostic of desire or commitment. It’s a nervous system habit that forms through specific conditioning — usually one or two disappointing early encounters, a period of stress that bled into the bedroom, or an age-related physical change (slower arousal time after 35 is normal physiology) interpreted as malfunction. The story being told about what the anxiety means is usually the most important variable to examine, because the wrong story — “this means I’m not attracted to her” or “this means something is wrong with me” — is itself a threat signal that deepens the loop.

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