Sex is not just about frequency—it’s also about connection, communication, and confidence. Photo / Getty Images
WARNING: This story deals with sexual content and is suitable for adults only
Authentic communication about desires and fears is essential for partners, writes Kiwi sex therapist Michelle Kasey.
If we listen to the traditional cultural narratives about heterosexual sex for a moment, here’s how things are supposed to go. Men? It’s their job to initiate. Because, apparently, they’re always up for it — thinking about it every 3 seconds (or so the myth goes). Women? They’re not really supposed to have their own sexual desire. Instead, to be a respectable woman in the eyes of society, they should prioritise emotional intimacy and nurturing behaviours. Unless, of course, they’re trying to reproduce or are in a monogamous relationship (ideally marriage), in which case it’s their “good girl” duty to be ready for sex whenever the man wants.
If, like most people, your experience of desire goes against this traditional grain, it’s common to feel like something is wrong with you (or with your partner). We might be fooled into thinking that he’s less of a man if he’s not as interested in sex as he “should” be, or maybe we conclude that it’s her fault for not being sexy enough. Or, if she has a higher libido than him, she’s emasculating him with her “too-much-ness”. Or, if she isn’t meeting his sexual needs, it’s her job to fix her “broken” libido. Fake news.
Even if we’ve heard — and logically agreed to — modern and shame-melting attitudes of sexual empowerment, it’s common to feel a disconnect between your mind and body. Those pesky disempowering heteronormative narratives can have deep roots in our subconscious, influencing our experience of desire more than we may realise.
In my sex and relationships therapy practice, mismatched libidos are a common challenge clients bring to me. Many arrive carrying deep-seated hurt and resentment, built up over time as they struggle to navigate their differences.
If you’re the partner with lower desire, you may feel like you should want sex more, carrying guilt for repeatedly disappointing your partner. Frustratingly, this pressure can push your libido even further away, no matter how much you wish it wouldn’t. You might question what’s wrong with you — while also resenting your partner for making you feel this way.
If you’re the partner with higher desire, repeated rejections may leave you questioning your attractiveness and worth. You might feel frustrated and unfulfilled, torn between wanting intimacy and worrying that your desires are “too much”.
Allow me to share some facts.
1. Lower desire isn’t better or worse than higher desire — they’re simply different. Desire runs on a spectrum, and you’re both 100% normal.
2. It’s completely natural for partners to have different levels of desire. Our libido fluctuates over time, so most relationships will experience periods of disparity.
But if you’ve been in a period of disparity for a long time, there’s understandably some pent-up emotion around this topic. I get it — it can be really frustrating. Here’s some guidance that will support you to bridge the gap.
Stop pointing fingers — or taking all the blame. This can’t be about the person with the lower libido changing their desire, or the person with the higher libido convincing the other person to have more sex.
You must come together as a team. Your mission? To intimately understand each other’s needs and wants, finding ways to create balance, mutual satisfaction, and respect for each other’s boundaries.
Libido is multifactorial, and in my opinion, incredibly fascinating. Geek out on this topic, and you will feel more empowered to navigate it as a team.
Did you know that there are two types of sexual desire? Spontaneous and responsive, and neither is better than the other. Spontaneous desire is like a gas stove — it ignites quickly, often without much effort. You find yourself hungry for some action seemingly out of nowhere. Responsive desire, on the other hand, is more like a campfire. You don’t toss a match onto a log and expect roaring flames. Instead, you gather the kindling, create the right conditions, and gently nurture the sparks until the fire catches.
Desire is also influenced by our environment and emotional context. If you’re a parent trying to get in the mood with the kids downstairs, you might find it hard to switch from parent mode to embracing your erotic identity. Or, if there are unresolved resentments in your relationship, your heart and hips may not feel open to your partner.
Or, if you’ve grown incredibly emotionally close to your beloved but have lost sight of who you are as an individual, there may not be enough mystery or separateness between you to fuel the flames of desire.
I recommend reading Come As You Are by Emily Nagoski and Mating in Captivity by Esther Perel to broaden your understanding of desire.
If you want things to change, you’ve got to be honest with each other about your desires, worries, and fears — without judgment. This isn’t a license to be unkind. If you struggle to engage in honest communication without resorting to blame or shame, it’s an area worth working on.
The goal is to deeply understand and empathise with each other, which can alleviate tension and create space for finding strategies that consider both of your needs moving forward.
But don’t just focus on discussing why you’re not having sex. Get curious — ask each other questions that help you better understand your unique desires.
What beliefs and feelings do you currently associate with your sex life? Write them down, both the positive and not-so-positive. Then, read them back, noticing what it’s like to believe those things. Inspiring and empowering, or heavy and stagnant?
Because the stories we tell ourselves shape our reality, I invite you to write a new story about your sex life that’s aspirational, empowering, and brings together both of your views and desires. You don’t have to believe it — or even feel comfortable with it — right now. With practice, a new mindset can lead your relationship in a new direction!
For example, if you currently have a belief that “Sex should always be spontaneous and happen effortlessly,” you might find it liberating to rewrite this belief into something like, “When we prioritise romance and playfulness in our daily lives, it’s easy to create space to come together sexually.”
This is a great exercise to draw a line in the sand and start fresh.
If you don’t fully understand, feel connected to, or confident in your sexuality, I encourage you to go on a solo journey of sexual empowerment. It’s one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever chosen for myself, and it’s never too late to begin.
Self-pleasure is a great way to learn about your body and desire, without the pressure of your partner’s wanting. Here, you can grow your self-knowledge, which will empower you to communicate more effectively, which will then support you to have more satisfying sexual experiences.
Discovering yourself erotically, outside of the context of your relationship, is a fantastic way to uncover the gifts your sexuality has in store for you. Your sexuality is beautiful, natural, and you are worthy of enjoying it.
At the heart of it all, mismatched libido isn’t about “fixing” each other — it’s about learning, adapting, and co-creating a relationship that feels good for both of you.
And let’s not forget: at the end of the day, sex isn’t just about ticking boxes or keeping score. It’s about connection, playfulness, and maybe even a little laughter when things don’t go according to plan.
So, give yourselves permission to stumble, experiment, and giggle at the silliness of it all. Because if you can’t laugh while trying to figure out how to light that campfire, you might as well crack open the chilly bin and enjoy the view.
Michelle Kasey is an award-winning NZ-based sex and relationships therapist, burlesque artist and teacher, champion pole dancer and writer.
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