Another night. Another orgasm faked. David’s sleeping like a baby next to me, that satisfied smile on his face, while I’m lying here wide awake scrolling through Reddit threads about dead bedrooms. Three fucking years of this. Three years of loving this incredible man who makes me laugh until I cry, who remembers how I take my coffee, who texts me stupid memes all day… but who does absolutely nothing for me in bed. If you’re reading this at 2 AM in the same situation, girl, I see you. This shit is brutal.
Let’s talk about the thing nobody wants to admit – when you’re deeply in love with someone who just doesn’t do it for you sexually. When you dread bedtime not because you’re fighting, but because you know you’ll have to either reject him again or fake your way through another session of mechanical sex.
Is It Normal to Not Be Sexually Satisfied in a Relationship?
Fuck yes, it’s normal. But nobody tells you that.
I spent months thinking I was broken. Like, what kind of monster loves their boyfriend but dreads when he initiates sex? Turns out, about half of us, according to every study I desperately googled at 3 AM.
The shit nobody talks about:
- Sometimes love and lust just don’t line up
- Chemistry can die even when love doesn’t
- Good guys aren’t always good in bed
- Being best friends doesn’t equal sexual compatibility
- Orgasms aren’t guaranteed just because you care
“Girl, I went FOUR YEARS faking it with Steve,” my friend Sarah told me over wine last week. “Four. Fucking. Years. Loved him to pieces, wanted to marry him, but sex felt like a chore. I thought something was wrong with me.”
When I finally broke and googled it: “Boyfriend bad in bed but I love him” – 2.5 million results “No sexual chemistry but love him” – 4 million results
“Faking orgasms in relationship” – 8 million fucking results
We’re all out here suffering in silence because admitting your boyfriend doesn’t turn you on feels like betrayal. But keeping it secret? That’s the real betrayal – to yourself.
My therapist (yes, I finally went) said something that changed everything: “Emma, you can love someone deeply and still have unmet needs. Acknowledging that doesn’t make you a bad girlfriend. It makes you human.”
Can You Love Your Boyfriend but Not Be Sexually Attracted?
This mindfuck kept me up for months. How can I love this man but feel literally nothing when he touches me?
Here’s the truth bomb: Love and lust are literally different brain systems
I love David because:
- He held my hair when I had food poisoning
- He learned to cook my mom’s soup recipe when I was homesick
- He gets genuinely excited about my work promotions
- He watches The Bachelor with me without complaining
- He texts my anxious ass “good morning beautiful” every single day
But sexually? Nada. Zero. Zilch. It’s like trying to get turned on by your brother. (Sorry, David, if you ever read this.)
Real scenarios from my group chat:
- “I think Jake is handsome but I’d rather cuddle than fuck” – Melissa
- “Tom’s perfect on paper but I fantasize about everyone except him” – Rachel
- “I love staring at him but touching him feels weird” – Anna
- “He’s my best friend but my vagina didn’t get the memo” – Me
My friend Emma explained it best after three margaritas: “I can see that Tom is objectively hot. Like, I get why other women want him. But when he tries to seduce me, I just feel… nothing. It’s like looking at a really nice painting – pretty but not arousing.”
What Happens If a Woman Is Not Satisfied Sexually?
Oh honey, where do I even start? It fucks with EVERYTHING.
The emotional shitstorm:
- Guilt (because he’s trying so hard)
- Resentment (because why can’t this just work?)
- Frustration (sexual and otherwise)
- Self-hatred (am I broken? selfish? secretly gay?)
- Anxiety (oh god, is tonight a sex night?)
- Fear (what if he figures out I’ve been faking?)
How it poisoned our relationship:
- I started going to bed early to avoid him
- “Headaches” became my go-to excuse
- I’d pick fights just to avoid intimacy
- Started fantasizing about coworkers (hello, guilt spiral)
- Became irrationally angry at his touch
- Felt disconnected even during “I love you”s
The personal toll:
- Gained 15 pounds from stress eating
- Started having drinks before bed to “get in the mood”
- Cried in the shower more times than I can count
- Questioned everything about my sexuality
- Lost confidence in my femininity
- Felt like a fraud in my own relationship
“I became a different person,” admits Rachel. “Bitter, snappy, always on edge. My sexual frustration was leaking into everything. I once cried because he bought the wrong brand of yogurt. It wasn’t about the yogurt.”
For me, the worst part was the performance. Moaning at the right times, arching my back, saying “that feels good” when it didn’t. I deserved a fucking Oscar.
What Are the Side Effects of Not Being Sexually Satisfied?
You think it’s just about orgasms? Think again.
My body kept score:
- Chronic UTIs from insufficient arousal
- Jaw tension from gritting my teeth
- Insomnia (hello, 3 AM Reddit scrolling)
- Stress headaches became my personality
- Lost my period for two months
- Back pain from physical tension
Mental health went to shit:
- Cried at a commercial about orange juice
- Anxiety attacks in the Victoria’s Secret store
- Obsessed over whether I was asexual
- Compared myself to every woman he looked at
- Developed mild depression
- Started therapy (best decision ever)
Life changes I made to cope:
- Worked 60-hour weeks to avoid evenings at home
- Joined a 6 AM gym class (who was I?)
- Online shopping addiction (RIP credit card)
- Drank way more wine than healthy
- Stopped hanging with coupled friends
- Masturbated in secret like a teenager
“I literally got a promotion because I worked so late to avoid going home,” Amanda laughed bitterly. “My boss thought I was super dedicated. Really, I just dreaded another night of pretending to enjoy sex.”
The Conversation That Changed Everything
After a particularly awful night (he went down on me for 20 minutes while I mentally reorganized my closet), I broke.
“David, we need to talk about our sex life.”
His face went through five stages:
- Confusion
- Fear
- Hurt
- Defensiveness
- Finally… relief?
“Oh thank god,” he said. “I knew something was wrong. I thought you were cheating or didn’t love me anymore.”
What poured out:
- I’d been faking for two years
- I loved him desperately but felt nothing sexually
- I dreaded bedtime
- I felt broken and guilty
- I’d researched asexuality at 4 AM
- I was scared of losing him
His confession shocked me:
- He knew something was off
- Felt like a failure
- Had performance anxiety
- Googled “girlfriend doesn’t want sex”
- Was relieved it wasn’t about love
- Wanted to fix it together
Who knew men had feelings too? (Kidding. Sort of.)
What We’re Actually Doing About It
Six months later, here’s our messy, imperfect progress:
Shit that’s helping:
- Weekly “sex talks” over coffee (neutral territory)
- Reading “Come As You Are” together
- Scheduling sex (unsexy but removes pressure)
- Focus on pleasure, not orgasms
- Lots more foreplay (LOTS more)
- Toys. So many toys.
- Couple’s therapy bi-weekly
- Individual therapy for me
Failed experiments:
- Role play (we laughed too hard)
- Tantric sex workshop (so awkward)
- No sex for a month (made it worse)
- Drunk sex (whiskey dick isn’t cute)
- Morning sex (I’m not a morning person)
Current status: Better but not perfect. Some nights are great, others I still fake it. But we talk about it now. The shame is gone. Progress, not perfection.
“We had to rebuild from scratch,” says Julia, who went through this with her husband. “Threw out everything we thought we knew about sex and started over. Took a year, but now? Best sex of my life.”
The Hard Truth Nobody Wants to Hear
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
My friend Monica tried for three years with Sam. Therapy, workshops, books, toys, everything. Finally admitted they were sexually incompatible. They’re both happier with new partners now.
Questions I ask myself daily:
- Can I do this forever?
- Is “okay” sex enough?
- Would I tell my daughter to stay?
- Am I staying from love or fear?
- What do I actually need?
Options we’ve discussed:
- Keep working on it
- Open relationship (complicated)
- Scheduled sex breaks
- Accept mediocre sex life
- Loving separation
There’s no right answer. Only what you can live with.
For My Fellow Unsatisfied Sisters
If you’re lying next to someone you love but don’t desire:
- You’re not broken – Your vagina isn’t defective
- It’s not shallow – Sexual needs are valid needs
- Talk to him – Suffering in silence helps nobody
- Get help – Therapy isn’t admitting defeat
- Be honest – With him and yourself
- You deserve both – Love AND great sex
Where I’m At Now
I’m writing this while David’s at guys’ night. We had sex yesterday – I came for real, he noticed the difference, we high-fived after. (Yes, we’re dorks.)
It’s not perfect. Some nights I still feel nothing. Sometimes I cry from frustration. But we’re trying, talking, laughing about it even. That’s more than I had six months ago when I was faking it and dying inside.
Maybe we’ll fix this completely. Maybe we’ll find a compromise. Maybe we’ll eventually part ways. But at least now we’re facing it honestly.
To every woman reading this at 2 AM next to a man she loves but doesn’t desire – you’re not alone, you’re not broken, and you deserve to have all your needs met. Whether that’s with him, without him, or some creative solution in between.
Stop faking it. Start talking. You deserve orgasms AND love.
And David, if you’re reading this – I love you, you’re getting better, and yes, last Tuesday was real.
❤️