What the Sex Therapist Forced Me to Face
This article is part of a series. To read the first part, click on the following link: My Wife Didn’t Desire Me
I had absolutely no desire to go.
Seeing a sex therapist, to me, felt like admitting failure. As if we were no longer capable of solving our problems on our own. As if our marriage was officially “in trouble.”
But after the train incident. After the messages. After that feeling that I could lose control… I understood that I couldn’t keep pretending.
My wife agreed. She was there on the day of the appointment. I think at that point she realized it wasn’t a whim. That something was genuinely cracking between us.
The Awkwardness
I remember the waiting room. Too quiet. Too clean. I felt exposed.
Talking about sex in front of a stranger. Saying that my wife no longer desired me. Admitting that I had almost cheated without actually cheating.
I felt small.
At first, I didn’t say much. I let my wife explain. She said she was tired. Overwhelmed. That by the evening, she had no energy left.
And in my head, part of me was still thinking: yes, but I’m tired too.
No One Wants Bad Sex
The therapist said something that stuck with me.
“No one wants bad sex. Not you. Not her.”
It sounds simple. But it hit me.
She explained that female desire isn’t always spontaneous. That for many women, arousal doesn’t just fall from the sky. It builds. It needs context. It needs preparation.
And most importantly, she told us something essential: forcing yourself destroys desire even more.
My wife should never force herself. But she could learn to create the right conditions. To make space for desire. Not to wait for it to appear on its own.
And I had to understand that if she spends her day managing the kids, the groceries, homework, work… in the evening she doesn’t want to feel like she has to take care of someone else too.
That sentence stung.
Because I wondered if, without meaning to, I was making her feel exactly that way.
The Mental Load
People talk a lot about the “mental load.” I had heard the term. I thought I understood it.
In reality, I had underestimated what it truly meant.
Thinking about school bags. Medical appointments. Birthdays. Laundry. What we’re eating tomorrow.
I worked a lot. I came home tired. But once I was home, I could sit down. She couldn’t.
And desire struggles to grow in an overloaded mind.
I’m not saying that explains everything. But it matters.
The Invisible Pressure
The therapist also asked me how I reacted to rejection.
I answered that I respected it. That I understood.
My wife looked at me.
And I realized it wasn’t that simple.
I didn’t yell. I didn’t make scenes. But my mood would change. I’d become colder. More distant. Sometimes sarcastic.
It was a silent pressure.
She told me later: “I felt like if I said no, I would pay for it in some way.”
It wasn’t intentional. But it was real.
What It Made Us Understand
That appointment didn’t fix everything. We didn’t walk out transformed.
But something shifted.
My wife understood that it wasn’t just a passing urge on my part. That I was genuinely hurting. That I felt rejected. That I needed to feel desired.
And I understood that her lower libido wasn’t directed at me.
It wasn’t a lack of love.
It was a mix of fatigue. Pressure. Context. A dynamic that had settled in over time.
We also realized that waiting for things to “come back on their own” wouldn’t be enough.
Desire doesn’t return by magic. It takes work. From both of us.
I walked out of that office a little shaken. A little ashamed. But also relieved.
For the first time in a long while, we were putting words to what had been separating us.
And even though I was still afraid. Even though the temptation hadn’t completely disappeared from my mind… I felt like we were becoming a team again.
Marc
My name is Marc. I’m 42 years old. I’ve been married for 12 years. I have two young children. And I’m a normal man who suffered deeply from no longer feeling desired by his wife.After years of feeling like I was wandering through a desert, I can finally say that things are better. And I’d like to share what I’ve learned from that experience.
This text was originally written in French. It was then translated to be readable in your language.
If you would also like to share a life story or experience with us, feel free to contact us!