How sex changes in long-term relationships.

This month on Lustery POV, professional peer mentor Sam from Shrimp Teeth explores how sex changes in long-term relationships

Sex in long-term relationships: What happens when the spark dies? 

What Happens When The Spark Dies?

Countless blogs, shows, and therapists tell us that couples in long-term relationships stop having sex. But advice on how to “keep the spark alive” often fails to comprehend the fear we must face in order to change our established 

. So what are some reasons that we’ve bought into the myth that long-term relationships can’t have hot sex. And what should you actually do if you’re stuck in a cycle of sexual dissatisfaction?

“We used to have mind-blowing sex when we started dating, but it’s been months since the last time we did it, and honestly, I’m not even sure I want to anymore. Is that normal?” It’s common for people in long-term relationships to agonize over the changing sexual dynamics with their long-term partners. But what should we expect from the sex life of committed partners?

While I don’t personally think there’s a one-size-fits-all answer, culturally our relationship scripts form our baseline expectations of how “normal” relationships should look and progress over time. These scripts tell us that we have to work to keep the “spark” alive, lest we end up in sexless (and therefore doomed) relationships. We’re told that sex is most pleasurable at the start of a relationship and that it goes downhill the longer we stay with our partners.

And sure, there’s no denying that novelty does inevitably wear off but I’m resistant to framing sex as a depreciating commodity. This narrative at best sets an expectation of long-term dissatisfaction and at worst it’s another convenient excuse to market products and services to fix our inherent brokenness. What would happen to our satisfaction with our partners if we shifted our attitudes towards sex in long-term relationships?

 "Even reputable sex therapists, like Esther Perel, suggest that couples plan sex."

It’s disheartening when sex becomes something we have to check off a to-do list. Many couples who’ve been together for years start to focus on quantitative measures, how often they have sex, and how long it’s been. These measures create a feeling of pressure to meet these invisible standards and cause agony when they aren’t met. Even reputable sex therapists, like Esther Perel, suggest that couples plan sex. 

Although she makes a distinction that planning doesn’t necessarily mean scheduling, for a lot of folks experiencing sexual dissatisfaction, the difference doesn’t necessarily register and sex simply becomes another to-do item. While anxiety about sex can occur regardless of sexual orientation, most often I hear women in long-term heterosexual relationships talk about feeling obligated to have sex even if they would rather not.

I hear similar stories so frequently that all these different women could be the same person, leading me to think this is more of a cultural phenomenon than an individual sexual mismatch. One client, who epitomizes this issue, explained that in the beginning sex made her feel like she had “won” by securing the interest of her handsome now-husband. The sex was hot since she was turned on by simply being wanted.

But over a decade, the excitement has faded and she reports that their sex has become a monotonous routine, heavily focused on him cumming while she silently waits for it to be over. “Honestly, I rarely orgasm with him so I prefer to masturbate.” When I asked her why she didn’t speak up, I could hear her exasperation, “I HAVE, but he just doesn’t get it.”

She goes on to provide an example, “He keeps saying he’s interested in exploring new things, he even buys toys and bondage rope… but then he never learns how to use it with me so they just sit there.” She confesses that she has a hard time telling him what she ACTUALLY wants because he can be quite “clumsy.” On the few occasions that she’s shown him how she masturbates, she gets the ick when he starts touching her, bringing her out of the experience.

She turns this dissatisfaction internally. She feels guilty because she WANTS sex to feel exciting but it doesn’t. They’ve tried going to a sex therapist, they even hired a sex worker who specializes in bodywork with couples. Nothing has stuck and they’re running out of options. Exhausted, she tells me that at this point it’s better for them to simply have sex outside of the marriage.

Sex outside the relationship is framed as the best solution

It’s incredibly common nowadays for folks to turn to ethical non-monogamy to address their sexual dissatisfaction. There’s often a naive optimism that previously monogamous couples have around opening their marriage before they experience the real thing.

Of course, there are plenty of cases where non-monogamy is genuinely a better fit for couples, but many people choosing ENM aren’t doing so because they want multiple partners, they simply want a convenient way to fix their relationship problems. It’s rare from my experience that non-monogamy offers the hassle-free solution that folks who want to be monogamous in every other regard seek.

People who primarily see open relationships as a problem-solving tool are often heartbroken or deeply jealous when their partner begins to have the exciting sex they crave with someone else. That’s not even factoring in the disruption that secondary partners can have on the established relationship when people realize that others are not need-fulfillment machines.

These arrangements can further divide the couple, making physical intimacy together even harder than before. I’m not here to tell anyone not to practice ENM, but I would caution that existing issues in the relationship have a tendency to be intensified and not resolved. Non-monogamy should be a choice for couples who want multiple partners not as a way of fixing issues. So what are some alternatives?

An opportunity to introduce a new kind of play

A key issue over time is that couples get stuck in the same sexual routine whether it works or not. To avoid conflict, many people avoid talking openly about their changing needs. Or if they do talk about it, they focus primarily on how much sex they aren’t having.

I will draw from Esther Perel once more, often the key to resolving stagnating sexual desires in a long-term relationship isn’t to hyper-intellectualize the issue but rather to find ways to play together. Domestic responsibility, care, and commitment often replace the insecure yet exciting flirtatious attention of new relationships.

We forget what it feels like to tease our partners, to chase them, to be unsure whether our advances will be reciprocated. In long-term relationships, we begin to expect access to our partners and often feel slighted if our partners reject our advances. But implied consent is a boner killer, it means we’re not working as hard to seduce our partners, instead relying on routine to meet our sexual needs. Stale and repetitive sexual scripts don’t inspire a lot of desire.

But as my client mentioned earlier, trying new things can feel exhausting especially when we’re low on patience because we’re trying to “fix” our broken sex lives as quickly as possible. I also don’t believe that bells and whistles are the actual solution. Trying something new doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to get toys or sign up for classes. More often, it means changing up the dynamic, most couples don’t want to hear this.

I get the most pushback from straight women who balk at the idea that they should have to play a dominant role. They’ve become accustomed to being pursued sexually and even the most staunch feminists hate the idea that they would have to initiate. At listen, I do get that breaking sexual scripts can feel scary and vulnerable. But the fear of failure or judgment prevents us from accessing the novelty and spontaneity that we all seem to crave.

At some point, if the goal is to have better sex, we need to overcome our egos and try out a power dynamic that feels scary. After all, there’s nothing hotter than a little danger. 

"Above all, the most important part of having long-lasting satisfying sexual relationships is being able to adapt."

Using “this or that” questions to try new things

At this point in the conversation with clients, they’re usually becoming quite resistant. They’re playing their favorite reasons why they can’t try something new, and it once again boils down to fear. This is when I introduce my favorite simple exercise to facilitate communication. Instead of using open-ended questions like, “what do you want me to do?” Try framing intimacy as a set of choices, “do you want a massage or a strip tease?” “Do you want me to go faster or slower?”

While asking people what they want should be seen as good sexual communication, I’ve noticed that more often people freeze. They struggle to come up with an answer on the spot. By offering choices, we’re removing the awkward pauses while your partner frantically tries to come up with an answer. If they have something else they want, they can offer it up as an alternative.

But by providing choices, not only are you being initiative, you’re also getting direct and clear feedback from your pals that help guide you. Now obviously, you don’t need to use this communication shortcut at all times, but it is a really handy tool when you’re feeling unsure what to do or when you want to try something new and aren’t sure how to proceed. 

Moving towards what you want rather than away from what you don’t want

One last thing I advise my clients is to be cautious about being overly critical when having these conversations. It can feel frustrating when your partner repeatedly tells you that sex isn’t working for them. Lots of conversations I’ve overheard between couples focus on all the issues in their sexual dynamic without offering exciting alternatives.

People can quickly identify what they don’t want but have a harder time defining what they would like instead. This pattern of 

 can lead partners to feel critiqued or attacked resulting in shutting down. Even when partners can clarify what they want, I often hear impatience and perfectionism creep into these conversations. The more we can view sex as a playful activity where we’re allowed to make mistakes and work through issues, the less scary it is to try new things.

I always remind clients to try phrasing their feedback positively so that interactions can keep moving forward rather than hitting a wall of shame. Above all, the most important part of having long-lasting satisfying sexual relationships is being able to adapt. When you’ve mastered how to give kind and productive feedback to your partner it makes it much easier to try new things.

Of course, if your partner has a humiliation/degradation kink then ignore this entirely and go tell that stupid slut what a worthless worm they are. Having hot and fun sex in long-term committed relationships should be seen as the norm. I reject the idea that long-term partners will inevitably have stale and dissatisfying sex, that cannot be the standard we uphold.

While sex outside of our primary partners can be a load of fun, this also shouldn’t be the only avenue for meeting our physical needs. Long-term partners must commit to exploring playful ways they can connect sexually and be willing to suffer through a bit of discomfort and vulnerability in the name of trying new sexual things.

Diversity in sex isn’t something that should die when we settle in with our partners. It’s perfectly reasonable for us to want to have

 with the person (people) we love. But doing so will require us to first address the cultural relationship norms that convince us that sex is best when it’s new. It will also mean learning to put aside our assumptions about what our partners want and be willing to change over time. Long-term satisfaction ultimately comes from a willingness to learn how to adapt. 