"I was in a sexless marriage for years. And I had no idea what was wrong with me."

If there’s a time to have sex, a wedding anniversary would be it.

Even my parents, who had long lost any serious interest in each other, used to kick me and my brother out of the house on the night of their anniversary.

Not that they had to. After hearing the sounds coming from their room one time, I made sure to always plan alternative accommodations.

I actually liked my husband. A lot. I loved him in a deep way (still do!)

Plus, the conditions were perfect.

Food from our favourite restaurant. Wine with a price tag that’s normally too high for us.

The kids in bed early. The house quiet.

Lots of time spent cuddling, snuggling, touching, whispering sweet things to each other.

Feeling connected and extremely close.

Just a couple of years before, this would have been a guaranteed road to us putting a real strain on our box spring.

Hell, I would’ve been horny as hell even if we just had cheap wine, greasy takeout, and a less sexy day on the calendar. (Canada Day? Sure, why not. No better way to celebrate Confederation than with a union of bodies.)

But at the end of this nice anniversary celebration, we kissed each other goodnight, turned off the lights, and went to sleep.

Really, I wasn’t surprised. I had been in a sexless marriage for a few years. This wasn’t the first anniversary that came and went without any action.

Side note – there are some pretty interesting ways women can orgasm, watch the video below to learn how. Post continues after video.

Shutting Down Shop

Women my age were fucking. Big time.

From hearing everyone else talk about it, their mid- and late 20s were full of uninhibited sex with long-term partners.

And it seemed like every pregnancy forum was filled with women asking if it was normal for them to be insatiable fuckbots for an entire trimester.

Even the ones who married hopeless dolts somehow managed to consistently get wet for them.

Guys who didn’t know how to put detergent in the washing machine and insisted that changing diapers wasn’t their job were still boning down at the end of the night. And here I was with an invisible chastity belt despite having a tireless and quite decent husband.

But I couldn’t help it. I felt absolutely miserable.

I had no idea what was wrong with me. Later, I’d be diagnosed with hypothyroidism and hormonal imbalances. But at the time, I was just experiencing inexplicable brain fog, anxiety, depression, and a dead libido.

Actually, my libido wasn’t entirely dead, but it had such a weak pulse that you could barely tell it was alive.

I’d get a little aroused once a month, right when I ovulated. My mental health may have been suffering tremendously, but my body still gave me a nudge, hoping I’d pop out a few more babies.

But being a bit horny once a month didn’t mean we had sex twelve times a year. My libido was still very fragile. To sustain my desire for longer than thirty minutes, conditions had to be perfect.

That didn’t mean candlelit dinners and a bouquet of roses (though that never hurts). I just had to get myself in the right mindset and stay in it. I had to focus on wanting to fuck and not get distracted from that singular thought.

Easier said than done. My kids could be real jerks sometimes, and my husband would often get work piled onto him at the last minute. As soon as anything went wrong, I’d lose interest, and I wouldn’t get it back until the following month.

I managed to have sex a few times a year, but it still felt like sex wasn’t really a part of my life anymore.

A marriage is considered sexless if the couple has sex 10 times or less in the course of a year. I didn’t have to keep a tally to know we weren’t hitting double digits.

I still had a dirty mind. I loved everything having to do with sex. But my sex life had just about flatlined.

Vitamin D Deficient but Still Strong

Like anyone in a sexless marriage, I worried about mine.

I wondered if maybe the lack of sex was a sign of some deeper trouble. Would it only be a few months before Mr. Austin and I realised that there was something fundamentally incompatible about us.

I worried that no matter how often and how emphatically I told him I loved him, my husband just wouldn’t believe me anymore.

I also kind of worried about being left. Mr. Austin is a loyal guy who has stuck around through some difficult times. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how long anyone would put up with a sexless relationship, especially someone with a libido as high as his.

For more information on libido gaps in relationships and how to work through them, get expert advice in this episode of the Sealed Section podcast below. Post continues after audio.

Despite all that, things felt fine for the most part. I may not have been getting a regular dose of Vitamin D (if you know what I mean), but my marriage was still strong.

The thing that kept our marriage afloat and moving forward was the intimacy. What we lacked in sexual intimacy, we made up for with other kinds.

Our emotional intimacy was never in question. We are genuinely best friends, and have been from the start.

We talk about everything, and yet somehow never run out of things to talk about. We’re so close to each other that Mr. Austin often knows me better than I know myself, and vice versa.

None of that changed when sex was taken out of the picture. We didn’t just spend time with each other to keep the fire burning until we could fuck again. And our emotional intimacy wasn’t due to that warm flush of post-coital oxytocin. That bond existed on its own, independent of sex.
That wasn’t the only thing, though. Our emotional bond is what made us BFFs, but it’s the physical intimacy that still made us feel like a couple.

I know it sounds like a euphemism for sex, but physical intimacy encompasses all the other stuff.

It’s the hugs and cuddles. It’s the extended snuggling sessions.

It’s the way Mr. Austin strokes my arm when we’re binge-watching a sitcom.

It’s kissing in a way you’re not supposed to do with your grandma. It’s kissing in a way you shouldn’t even do in front of anyone’s grandma.

And that’s why we could really feel like husband and wife, no matter how little sex we had.

I did miss sex. A lot, in fact. My libido was low but I was far from asexual.

I still considered myself a very sexual person even though my desires had quit on me.

Without sex there was definitely something missing in our marriage, but it still felt worth it. I sometimes felt like our sex life would never return, but I also knew I could live happily with everything else we had left.

Making Up for Lost Time

A couple of years ago, I started seeing a new doctor and getting better treatment for my hormonal issues.

I was still worn out most of the time. My brain fog was still pretty bad. But I was making some improvements.

Probably the most noticeable one is that I was craving sex with Mr. Austin more often. I didn’t need to be ovulating (though that supercharges things) and conditions didn’t have to be perfect.

I just wanted him between my legs and I didn’t give a fuck how bad the kids had been that day.

When my libido returned, we picked up as if it had never left.

All that non-sexual intimacy we cultivated had laid the groundwork for us resuming a healthy and prolific sex life.

Even though we had been through a sexless marriage, there was no distance between us. There was no broken bond that needed repairing.

There was no struggle to reconnect before we could fuck.

We already had high levels of intimacy, so once my sex drive was revived, we could just hang a metaphorical sock on the door and have at it until we got too exhausted to continue.

Then, my doctor prescribed DHEA and it gave me a permanent lady boner.

I couldn’t get enough. I practically overdosed on Vitamin D, I masturbated so often I almost got numb, and I had to recharge my vibrators as often as my phone.

I haven’t quite managed to have sex every day, but we’re still fucking like newylweds.

I’m finally living out my dream of being a horny, sexy work-at-home wife. It’s been doing wonders for me and it’s keeping my marriage fun and exciting.

I’m glad our sexless years are behind us. But it’s really comforting to know that there’s so much more than desire and attraction holding us together.

This article by Emma Austin was originally published on Medium and republished here with full permission. 

You can find Emma Austin’s content on Medium and Twitter.