Episode 45: Let’s Talk About Sexual Desire

*This episode is in partnership with unblush. unblush is an online community for women to speak up and get answers about their frustrations and confusion around low sexual desire.

Keep listening to hear more about what this community is and how you can join, or head to unblush.com for more information. 

[INTRO WITH EV’YAN]

Hey, everyone! I’m Ev’Yan Whitney and this is The Sexually Liberated Woman. 

How’s it going? I know it's been a while since a new episode has popped up in your feed and I'm sorry for the radio silence. Some major transitions have been happening in my life recently and I needed to put the podcast on hold while I focused on getting things grounded again. Don't worry, none of this stuff is bad. Actually a lot of this is really really good and I can't wait to share what's been happening behind the scenes very soon.

While we wait for all that to be revealed, I wanted to talk about something that’s been on my mind a lot lately. It’s something I’ve struggled with in my sexuality since I started having sex and it’s honestly still something I deal with today. I mean, it’s not as much of a struggle these days because I’ve done a lot of work to demystify and unshame it, but it’s still something that I find myself getting in my head about and can bring up some residual shame.

Today, I want to talk about sexual desire. Or more so, lack thereof. 

Now before I get into all this, I need to go back. Like, way way back to when I first got with my current partner Jonathan—which was, oh my gosh, almost 13 years ago. When he and I first got together, our chemistry was off the charts. We were so attracted to each other, so infatuated with each other, and whenever we were together we literally couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. 

And my god, the sex we were having during this time. . . We were so smitten with each other that we were having sex constantly. Since neither of us had our own private living spaces at the time, we would rent rooms in these cheap, seedy motels off the highway just so we could have sex for the entire night. And when we weren’t able to get a room, we’d get ... creative. Like, there was one time where we were so horny for each other that we had sex on my mom’s couch while she is was in the other room sleeping (sorry, mommy!). 

Needless to say, those first six months were pretty hot and heavy, and I think we both thought that our sex life was going to be a continuation of all of that when we moved in together months later. And that was not the case. The moment we moved in with each other, everything changed—particularly my sexual desire. I went from wanting to have sex with Jonathan all the time to barely wanting to be touched. We very rarely had sex back then and when we did, it wasn’t with the same kind of passion that we experienced when we first started dating. I would be doing it just to get it over with, not because I had a strong desire to be intimate with him. 

Now, when I look back on everything and remember all that was happening back then, I know exactly why my desire went MIA—which I’ll get to in a little bit. But when I was in it, I I had no clue what was happening to me, why all of a sudden my desire for sex just stopped. It was almost like there was a switch inside of me that controlled my libido, and out of nowhere somebody shut it off. It was that drastic. 

They say that the person with the lower sex drive controls the sexual relationship, and I found that to be true for me. We weren’t having sex because I wasn’t wanting or willing to have it. And so, figuring out what was going on with me largely fell on my shoulders. 

So I read books that were all about the “10 Ways to Ignite the Fire In Your Bedroom Tonight” or “How To Unlock Your Sexual Libido in 30 Days.” I looked into getting sex toys and special lubes that would activate my libido. I scoured the internet for articles about low libido and how to remedy it. I toyed around with the idea that I was asexual. I even considered getting on prescription meds to bring more blood flow to my genitals to see if that would maybe help cure my missing libido—which is laughable when I think about it because that literally wouldn’t have done anything for me because desire lives in the brain, not in between the legs so the meds I was looking at would’ve been pointless. But I digress. 

Anyway, it was actually through all of that research that I first stumbled across some words and phrases that summed up what was happening to me. First it was “sexual anorexia” which is described as the pathological loss of appetite for sexual interactions because the person has severe anxiety about sex. Then there was the word “frigid”, which, in case you didn’t know, “frigid” is a word that started to be used by men around the early 1900s to describe women who had low sexual desire. And hearing that word brought me to the phrase “female sexual dysfunction”, another string of words that basically means a woman who is uninterested in being sexual. 

Now, sidebar—I don’t particularly subscribe to the word “frigid” anymore; it’s archaic and feels a little pejorative to me. But ... because I was grasping at straws and trying to make sense of what was happening to me, I adopted that language and used it to describe who I was. Because it only made sense. I had low sexual desire. I had a lack of interest in sex. Therefore, I was a frigid woman. I was sexually dysfunctional. 

Walking around with the belief that I was a frigid woman probably did more damage than the sex I wasn’t having with my partner. It made me feel small, it made me feel depressed, and it made me feel alone. And that’s precisely how low sexual desire works—it doesn’t just impact your sex life, it has a huge impact on your mental health and further imprints in your brain that you are broken. 

I honestly wish that I could go back in time and give this younger version of myself some guidance as she worked through these issues. One of the first things I would say is, “Girl, ‘frigid’ is not the word you should use to describe yourself,” because after all the research I’ve done in my own work about it, I now know that frigid is a completely out-dated inaccurate word to describe what I was going through, and that the better fitting term these days would probably be HSDD—or, hypoactive sexual desire disorder, which is another way of describing someone who has ongoing low sexual desire that is really frustrating them. 

And that brings me to the other thing I would mention to my younger self—I would tell her about unblush. unblush is a platform built for women to speak up about their low sexual desire and help them find answers. I was actually looking at statistics on this and apparently about 1 in 10 women in the US suffer from HSDD, which is pretty incredible. But what’s even more incredible is that many women aren’t even aware that HSDD is a common medical condition that is actually treatable. 

Now, if you’re feeling at all leery about this HSDD thing—I totally get it. I’m one of those people who, even though I was very quick to take refuge within an outdated term such as frigid, I still feel some type of way about assigning myself a slew of letters to describe what’s ailing me. For one thing, it feels so medical and and that feels really intimidating. There’s also this other part of me that feels that in this day and age it’s all too easy, particularly within Western medicine, to use these acronyms to diagnose someone without doing the deeper work of getting to the very bottom of what is really going on with them. I’ve witnessed my own family go through this and it’s really troubling. 

However, within my own work, I’ve recognized the importance of having language to validate what we’re going through. I mean the perfect example of this is me having language to validate my anxiety and depression disorder. Language helps you find community. And having language like HSDD is powerful. To have specific words to describe what you’re feeling and to finally have something you can like, look up on the internet and talk to your friends about—I mean, that’s so important. 

Because, back then, as I was sitting with all these emotions and feelings of being broken and trying to educate myself about what was wrong with me, it would have been really nice to know about HSDD, because if I did, maybe I could’ve gotten some actual medical help for what I was going through. All of this just speaks to how much lack of awareness there is about women’s sexual health and how little options there are to get help. 

So back to me. This period of sexlessness and battling with a low libido and not knowing what was going on or being properly diagnosed lasted for about five years, and every part of this experience was difficult. It was difficult on my marriage because we weren’t being intimate with each other and I felt such a lack of connection to him. It was difficult on my partner because our lack of intimacy made him feel rejected and like something was wrong with him. And it was difficult for me because I was internalizing so much shame and guilt for not being able to do something that used to be so accessible to me. I felt disconnected from my own body, I felt disconnected from my femininity. But I think what was most difficult about this time was that I didn’t feel like I could talk about it with anyone. 

I remember getting together with some friends in LA where we were living at the time, and the conversation drifted to sex. They started talking about how many orgasms they had and how they were having sex twice a day, and I remember just sitting there smiling and laughing along with them as they told their stories, but inside I felt so isolated. As much as I enjoyed hanging out with my friends, the shame that I felt about how differently my sex life looked compared to theirs made me feel alone and inadequate. 

I often wonder if what they were telling me about their sex lives—about their multiple orgasms and their insatiable libidos—was actually true, or they were also going through their own sexual hangups like I was but didn’t know how to talk about it. I mean, I obviously want to believe that they were having the best sex of their lives, but after doing this work for so many years I know that for many of us, sex and our sexuality is complicated and messy and constantly evolving. 

Regardless, if there had been one person in that room that said “Actually, my libido is really weird sometimes”, that would’ve been profound for me. 

It would’ve been really nice to know that I wasn’t alone. It would’ve been really nice to know that there wasn’t essentially anything wrong with me, but that my brain chemistry was just off. And what would’ve been even nicer is if I had a place I could go to and talk about what I was experiencing. Because even just a couple years ago, no one was really talking about this. If I had known all of this stuff, maybe it wouldn’t have taken me so long to get to the bottom of what was really going on with me. 

Which, I guess now would be a good time for me to tell you what I eventually ended up discovering, years later, about sexual desire—and not just sexual desire in general, but my own sexual desire specifically. And don’t worry, this part of the story is much lighter. Because, whew—those were some dark times. 

Here’s what I know about sexual desire now that I wish I had known back then: Sexual desire starts in your brain, not between your legs, and as such sexual desire is sensitive. It shifts, it fluctuates. And for me in particular, mine is sensitive to my mood, my environment, my mental health, my stress levels, whether I’m luteal or about to ovulate, and my desire fluctuates according to that. 

When I was going through my period of sexlessness, all I could see was that I wasn’t having sex and I was so busy focused on beating myself up about that that I wasn’t paying attention to how the world around me and the intense transitions I was going through could’ve been the culprit. Looking back now, it really made no sense that I was beating myself up over my lack of sexual desire when it very likely could’ve been an actual medical condition. Instead of beating myself up, I should’ve been giving myself more grace and compassion. I also think I should’ve given myself more time. 

And I guess what I mean by that is that sexual desire comes and goes in cycles. It’s not uncommon or abnormal for your desire for sex to change from one week or month to the next—especially if you’re someone going through health problems, hormone fluctuations, or are experiencing stressful times. 

Knowing all of this now, I can now see how useless it is to expect my sexual desire to occur with the accuracy of a clock. So I do the best I can not to. Because my sexuality is in constant motion; like, just last month my libido seemed non-existent, and there were moments where I started to cycle into old patterns of thinking—”I am broken, there is something wrong with me”. 

But then I took a breath, checked in with my body and its needs, and remembered to be easy on myself. Because you know what’s not going to make your sex drive come back? Worrying about it, stressing about it. 

And here’s one thing I know for sure: My sexual desire always comes back. It might take a few weeks or a few months, but when I take care of myself, prioritize my wellness, address whatever it is that’s keeping me from feeling sexual in the first place, and do things to get me back into my body—desire always shows up. 

But of course, that’s me and my desire. Everyone’s sexual desire is different, and if your lack of desire is frustrating you, I want to encourage you to empower yourself, to take matters into your own hands, and begin the process of getting to the bottom of what’s going on for you. I recommend talking to your healthcare provider if you think you may have a medical issue. There are treatments that may help. 

As for me, I choose to trust my desire. I choose to listen to my desire. And I choose to no longer feel any shame or stigma when it comes to my sexual desire. That, to me, is liberation. 

. . .

Thank you so much for witnessing my story and struggles with sexual desire, and thank you to unblush for sponsoring this episode. This conversation we just had is helping to lift the stigma off of talking about sexual desire, and I’m glad we’re having it. This is especially important to me because I’m someone who uses pharmaceuticals regularly—I’ve been on an antidepressant for the last twelve years—so I will always support others who make that very personal decision to use medication to improve their quality of life. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to have this conversation: to not just lift the stigma from talking about low desire, but to also lift the stigma when it comes to talking about making a conscious decision to seek medical support when needed. 

So I’m thrilled to have this partnership with un blush because I’ve always been an advocate for women and femmes choosing to do what they want and need to do for their bodies to help them access the joy and pleasure that is their birthright. 

All of that said—if you’re someone who has dealt with the maddening fluctuations of sexual desire like I have, I want you to know: you are not alone, there is nothing wrong with you, and you don’t have to suffer in silence. If you want some support and guidance as you figure it all out, head over to un blush.com and join their bustling community of women who are unshaming this topic and creating conversations about sexual desire. 

Over at un blush, they’ve got resources like the Symptom Checker Quiz that helps assess your desire, as well as a guide to use when talking to your doctor about your loss of desire. The best part is the community of women who are sharing their stories and giving you the opportunity to engage with folks who are dealing with something similar to you. 

While I personally no longer struggle with these issues, it’s really cool and important that this online community exists. Because I know that if the un blush community had existed back when I was having my sexual desire issues, it would’ve been life-changing. 

So again: check out unblush.com and join their community. You don’t have to go through this alone.

[CREDITS]

This podcast is created and hosted by me, Ev'Yan Whitney. Find me on my website, evyanwhitney.com and on Instagram @evyan.whitney to keep up with me and my work.

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Thank you so much for being here and I'll see you in the next episode.