The Real Reason Sex Intimacy Wanes in LTRs
The slow fade of intimacy can be a hard pill to swallow.
It happened so gradually; I would have missed it if I had blinked.
Like an old photograph bleached by the sun, our sex life seemed to fade to almost black.
For the first five years, we were hot 🔥 for each other. He couldn’t keep his “filthy paws off my silky draws,” if you know what I mean 😉.
In those early days, we behaved like fiends in a romantic dramedy. Sneaking feels in public and ripping each other’s clothes off in private. We got high off skin-on-skin contact and the delicious ache of arousal that seemed to consume our every waking thought.
We made love with reckless abandon on the living room floor every Sunday. And we f*cked like rabbits whenever the mood struck.
But somewhere along the way, life started doing its thing, and priorities, routines, and responsibilities began to cock block. With little fanfare, sex slipped further down the to-do list, and spontaneity became a thing of the past.
I mean, we still made time for skintimacy, and the sex was still good. But the zing of the bada-bing was meh.
I loved the closeness. The inside jokes, knowing glances, and the comfort of familiarity were all good. But I missed the spark, the headrush of excitement, the way the thought of being naked used to override all rational thought and compel us to devour each other. Yeah, that.
Was this as good as it gets? Did we have to trade novelty for predictability?
Of course, hindsight is 20/20, so now I see that the shift wasn’t a straight line; it was more of an ebb and slow flow.
The roller coaster of this thing called life, stress, distraction, and bills —all play a role. And then there’s the leveling of hormones, the passage of time, and the natural shifts in relationships that few couples discuss or acknowledge.
It’s normal (and inevitable) to shift from infatuation to attachment. We slowly transition from I want you to I need you while being none the wiser.
We don’t talk about these things—not because they’re taboo, but because they’re just too common to be noteworthy.
So why does sexual intimacy often wane in long-term relationships?
For many reasons, some are subjective, but some universal themes emerge when you dig deeper...
As much as we might crave the stability and depth of a long-term partnership, time dulls the edge of desire.
When we first fall in love, a cocktail of hormones floods our system - dopamine, norepinephrine, serotonin. That’s why we start acting like we don’t have any sense, craving our new boo like we’re addicted.
But like any drug, the intoxicating effects eventually wear off as our brains build up a tolerance and shift into attachment mode.
Suddenly, the person who once set our world aflame starts to feel more like our favorite comfy sweater.
Novelty gives way to familiarity. Passion cools into compassion.
It’s normal and jarring AF.
Is biology to blame for the sexual slump?
Biology isn’t totally to blame.
Lifestyle and everything that comes with it has to shoulder some of the responsibility, too.
Work, finances, health, tiny ever-growing humans, etc. get in the way. And after all the other stuff, there might be a few crumbs left for sexual intimacy.
When we're mentally and emotionally drained, sex feels like just another demand.
Then there’s the emotional stuff that calcifies over time.
Unresolved conflicts, simmering resentments, and a growing disconnect in the relationship create walls and barriers between us and the human we once drooled over.
And if we don’t feel safe, seen, or accepted by our partners, it becomes impossible to let our guard down. So you can forget about surrendering to pleasure and leaning into vulnerability.
Some argue that the most insidious sextimacy assassin of all is simply taking each other for granted.
When we stop courting our partners, stop trying to impress and woo them, stop making an effort...well, is it any wonder we stop humping?
We slip into roles - provider, parent, roommate - and forget how to be lovers.
And while a waning sex life may not be a relationship death sentence —it most certainly is a nail in the coffin.
What about those changing bodies?
As if the psychological and emotional hurdles weren't enough, there's also the inevitable march of time.
Our bodies and our sexuality don't remain static over the decades. What felt good at 20 may no longer light our fire at 40, 50, or beyond.
The hormonal shifts of perimenopause and menopause can be particularly disruptive to a once-thriving sex life.
Estrogen levels plummet, natural lubrication dries, vaginal tissue sometimes thins, and sometimes sex becomes painful. And don’t even get me started on the hot flashes, night sweats, and mood swings!
Penis owners aren’t exempt either.
Erectile dysfunction becomes more common, whether due to decreased blood flow, medications, or chronic health conditions.
Testosterone levels start to dip, which can dampen libido and make sustaining an erection difficult. And sometimes the drive to f*ck becomes more of a habit than a real desire.
The bottom line is that our bodies transform over time—skin sags, hair grays, and wrinkles deepen.
One day we look in the mirror and don’t recognize the body we see.
We now bear the marks of a well-lived life. And even if it’s been a good life, it’s so hard to feel desirable when we're bombarded with messages that equate youth with beauty and sexuality.
Logistical challenges…
Creaky joints. Bad backs. Diminished flexibility. Can we talk about it?
The flips and tricks we used to do in our 20s are long gone. We must learn to embrace slower, gentler, more mindful lovemaking.
We may need to get creative with pillows, props, and new techniques to accommodate our rickety knees.
Some of us can embrace these changes with open communication, a good sense of humor, and a willingness to adapt. On good days, when our mind is right, sex can still be more fulfilling than ever.
I admit it may take some mental gymnastics to put less emphasis on performance and more focus on sensual pleasure and emotional connection.
But it’s doable.
Some things can only come from lived experience: wisdom, self-awareness, and the confidence to ask for what we want.
If we can stop mourning the lovers we used to be, longevity is an opportunity to celebrate the ones we've become.
Now that you’ve read this far, you might have been hoping for a magic pill—a three-step strategy to make it like it was.
I’m sorry to disappoint.
But I would like to invite you to Make Shift Happen, a FREE 60-minute workshop that will give you some tools and strategies to transform your life (and your relationship-s) from the inside out.
The workshop isn’t specifically about sex… but it’s all connected. 😉
And no, you don't have to be boo'd up to benefit from this workshop.
It's going down this Thursday, May 16th, 12-1 pm PDT.
Can't make it live? No problem. The recording will be sent out to everyone who registers.
So, what do you say? Are you ready to stop pointing fingers and start making shift happen? Click the button below to grab your spot. 👇🏾
To new beginnings,
Stacey
P.S. Seriously, don't let another day go by feeling stuck and disconnected. You deserve better; I'm here to help you make it happen. Let's go!