This story is an “as told to” and anonymous. The mom in this story is a mother of four, in her 40s, living in the Northeast.
When I had my fourth child at 37, it was like my body completely shut down every time the word “sex” was mentioned. And I don’t mean like during the fourth trimester or even while I was just breastfeeding or sleep-deprived or some other postpartum “excuse.” It went like this for years. I blamed it on those postpartum hormones, on perimenopause, on my own anxiety. I started medication and blamed the lack of sex drive there, and then I started going to counseling.
My husband and I had been together for 15 years at that point, and it really was a hard time for both of us. I didn’t want to have sex, but I also didn’t want to make my husband feel bad or let him down. But unlike other times, like when I was simply too tired or not in the mood, I could never rally for him. He would suggest things to try or promise me he’d add in more foreplay or use toys or do whatever I needed, but the thought of sex just still totally drained me of energy.
At a session with my therapist, I mentioned that I had looked up HSDD — hypoactive sexual desire disorder. I told her that both my husband and I thought maybe I had it, and asked her if I should reach out to a doctor for treatment.
It was in that session that my therapist leaned forward and asked me to explain why I thought I wasn’t interested in sex, and to not come up with some science behind it. Just answer quickly: Why don’t you want sex?
And without a second thought, I said, “Because I’m not in love with my husband.”
It was like a light bulb went off. Suddenly, all of these scenes started popping up in my head. Like coming home from the birth of our third child — our older two were only 5 and 3 at the time — and finding that I couldn’t even open the laundry room door because he had piled so many dirty clothes in there. I would’ve given him grace as a dad who’d been at the hospital with his wife and then home with two young kids if he hadn’t turned to me and said, “Yeah, nobody has any clean underwear right now.”
I was recovering from a C-section.
When I was pregnant with our fourth, I overheard him telling my father-in-law how easy this pregnancy had been. “Much easier than the last one,” he said. I made eye contact with him and asked him to explain. He said, “I haven’t had to do as much for you this time,” and laughed it off.
I had just quit my job so I could finally be a stay-at-home mom. He wasn’t doing as much because he was coming home and napping on the couch because he was “so exhausted” from working.
It all started clicking, and I realized that I wasn’t suffering from a low sex drive; I just didn’t want to have sex with my husband.
I spent a few more months in therapy before asking my husband to do couples therapy with me. He refused. And when I told him I thought maybe my lack of sex drive was because our marriage wasn’t good, he said, “That’s bullsh*t. When you want dick, you want dick.”
I filed for divorce a week later.
I’ve been divorced now for two years and have had more sex than I did the last three years of our marriage. I was worried about sex post-divorce at first. What if my husband sucked and I had some kind of sex disorder? But the first time I went on a date after my divorce, I ended up in the guy’s bed and had an incredible time. My sex drive is more than OK. She’s thriving.
I’ve had casual hook-ups and I’ve had more serious relationships, but through it all, I’ve realized how many excuses I made for my husband. I was willing to believe any kind of medical excuse — putting the entire blame on me — for my lack of sex drive before I figured out it was just him being a loser that made me feel grossed out about sex. I was willing to try creams and therapies and hormone replacements instead of just looking at the root cause of my ick: my own husband.
He, of course, loves to talk about what a giant slut I am now. But I don’t care. I’m owning that word, and I’m taking my sex life back. Because sometimes, it is the woman who just doesn’t want to have sex, and it is the medication, and it is the anxiety, and the hormones, and the HSDD.
And sometimes, it’s just the sh*tty husband.
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