rattiestbird
New Here
Hi everyone.
I (27F) have C-PTSD from an abusive, neglected childhood and, more recently, I'm also dealing with memories of what I now recognize as child sexual abuse. My partner (27M) and I have been together for 10 years. We love each other deeply, but our sex life has been the hardest part of the relationship and it’s now the thing that might end us.
It's been tense for a while.
- The first 4 years (same city): good connection, fairly active sex life.
- The next 5 (long distance): 2–6 days together per month, sex maybe every second or third visit (roughly 15 times a year). This started out okay, but about a year after moving apart I fell into a heavy depression (coincided with COVID+recent death of my brother; another brother died two years ago but I haven't spiralled in the same way this time), and the following years were super rough.
- The past year (living together): sex 5–7 times a month, usually grouped over one or two weekends.
- He would be happy with sex every day; my current libido is more like once a week on average, and it fluctuates a lot.
A year ago, just before we moved in together, we talked about our sex life. He asked if I’d ever felt pressured, and I admitted that sometimes I went along with sex out of guilt because he’d get irritable or down if we hadn’t been intimate in a long time. He was devastated, felt like that meant he’d coerced me. We’ve worked through that and both understand it differently now, but since then intimacy has been tense. He leaves initiation to me alone because he’s afraid of overstepping, and I struggle to initiate because it feels awkward and I don’t often want sex. He's made it clear that feeling like I want to have sex with him and want him is a requirement of our relationship, that he feels unwanted and unloved, and the last year has been my opportunity to work on myself and my libido and get our sex life somewhere good. It's better than it was, I guess, but it's still not great, and he is tired of waiting.
I’ve recently accepted that I was sexually abused as a child (non-contact exposure, possibly more that I can’t remember clearly). It’s made me understand my low libido and avoidance differently, that it might not be about "libido" at all, but about trauma responses.
If I'm honest I have never had sex because it feels good to me. I’ve always liked closeness (cuddling, kissing, making him feel good) but I’ve never been sexually stimulated by it. I didn’t orgasm until I was 23, after buying a vibrator. I can orgasm easily on my own now (with or without toys), but not during sex. I’ve never reached orgasm with him without using a vibrator, and even then it feels awkward and hard to focus on myself. He’s tried giving me oral a few times, but I always stop him after a couple of minutes. We’ve used my vibrator together maybe a dozen times, but I still feel self-conscious and "wrong" doing that, and can only fathom it while we're also doing something else like me going down on him. For a long time I thought I just had a naturally low libido, but now that I can enjoy masturbation and feel desire on my own, I’m realizing it’s probably more about the emotional/trauma context of partnered sex than about physical arousal.
I’m starting EMDR and reading The Sexual Healing Journey by Wendy Maltz. It suggests taking a "sex vacation": removing sexual activity for a period of time to rebuild safety and trust with yourself. When I brought this up to my partner, he was understandably upset. He’s been patient through my depression, medication changes, and trauma processing for years, and I think he’s at the end of his rope. He says he wants to save the relationship, but we’ve already had several breakup conversations in the last month and he’s been looking at other places to live.
I don’t want to hurt him further. He’s a kind, loving person and my best friend. But I know that if we keep trying to have sex when I’m not really present, it’s painful for both of us.
If I take sex off the table, I might finally be able to heal, but it seems like it could also end the relationship for good. I don't think I have a choice in it right now -- I feel increasingly uncomfortable and unpleasant thinking about sex and even if it kills us I think I have to not.
For anyone who’s been through PTSD-related sexual difficulties or has taken a sex vacation:
- How did you communicate it with your partner? He doesn't understand how "not having sex can make us have more sex", even when I try to explain it to him.
- How did you manage the feelings of guilt and fear of losing them?
- If you were the partner, what helped you feel connected while intimacy was paused? I would be ok still hugging and kissing I think. I just feel this nausea, this pressure, knowing he wants sex and we're not having it as often as we should be.
- How do you know when to keep trying vs when to let go?
Any experiences or thoughts would be really appreciated. I feel like I’m trying to heal and grieve at the same time, and I don’t know which direction is kinder to either of us.
i want to be someone who enjoys sex. Reading this book I see other stories of people who thought they just didn't like or didn't care about sex, but then they worked through it all and now they enjoy it and get to experience it as something great.
I (27F) have C-PTSD from an abusive, neglected childhood and, more recently, I'm also dealing with memories of what I now recognize as child sexual abuse. My partner (27M) and I have been together for 10 years. We love each other deeply, but our sex life has been the hardest part of the relationship and it’s now the thing that might end us.
It's been tense for a while.
- The first 4 years (same city): good connection, fairly active sex life.
- The next 5 (long distance): 2–6 days together per month, sex maybe every second or third visit (roughly 15 times a year). This started out okay, but about a year after moving apart I fell into a heavy depression (coincided with COVID+recent death of my brother; another brother died two years ago but I haven't spiralled in the same way this time), and the following years were super rough.
- The past year (living together): sex 5–7 times a month, usually grouped over one or two weekends.
- He would be happy with sex every day; my current libido is more like once a week on average, and it fluctuates a lot.
A year ago, just before we moved in together, we talked about our sex life. He asked if I’d ever felt pressured, and I admitted that sometimes I went along with sex out of guilt because he’d get irritable or down if we hadn’t been intimate in a long time. He was devastated, felt like that meant he’d coerced me. We’ve worked through that and both understand it differently now, but since then intimacy has been tense. He leaves initiation to me alone because he’s afraid of overstepping, and I struggle to initiate because it feels awkward and I don’t often want sex. He's made it clear that feeling like I want to have sex with him and want him is a requirement of our relationship, that he feels unwanted and unloved, and the last year has been my opportunity to work on myself and my libido and get our sex life somewhere good. It's better than it was, I guess, but it's still not great, and he is tired of waiting.
I’ve recently accepted that I was sexually abused as a child (non-contact exposure, possibly more that I can’t remember clearly). It’s made me understand my low libido and avoidance differently, that it might not be about "libido" at all, but about trauma responses.
If I'm honest I have never had sex because it feels good to me. I’ve always liked closeness (cuddling, kissing, making him feel good) but I’ve never been sexually stimulated by it. I didn’t orgasm until I was 23, after buying a vibrator. I can orgasm easily on my own now (with or without toys), but not during sex. I’ve never reached orgasm with him without using a vibrator, and even then it feels awkward and hard to focus on myself. He’s tried giving me oral a few times, but I always stop him after a couple of minutes. We’ve used my vibrator together maybe a dozen times, but I still feel self-conscious and "wrong" doing that, and can only fathom it while we're also doing something else like me going down on him. For a long time I thought I just had a naturally low libido, but now that I can enjoy masturbation and feel desire on my own, I’m realizing it’s probably more about the emotional/trauma context of partnered sex than about physical arousal.
I’m starting EMDR and reading The Sexual Healing Journey by Wendy Maltz. It suggests taking a "sex vacation": removing sexual activity for a period of time to rebuild safety and trust with yourself. When I brought this up to my partner, he was understandably upset. He’s been patient through my depression, medication changes, and trauma processing for years, and I think he’s at the end of his rope. He says he wants to save the relationship, but we’ve already had several breakup conversations in the last month and he’s been looking at other places to live.
I don’t want to hurt him further. He’s a kind, loving person and my best friend. But I know that if we keep trying to have sex when I’m not really present, it’s painful for both of us.
If I take sex off the table, I might finally be able to heal, but it seems like it could also end the relationship for good. I don't think I have a choice in it right now -- I feel increasingly uncomfortable and unpleasant thinking about sex and even if it kills us I think I have to not.
For anyone who’s been through PTSD-related sexual difficulties or has taken a sex vacation:
- How did you communicate it with your partner? He doesn't understand how "not having sex can make us have more sex", even when I try to explain it to him.
- How did you manage the feelings of guilt and fear of losing them?
- If you were the partner, what helped you feel connected while intimacy was paused? I would be ok still hugging and kissing I think. I just feel this nausea, this pressure, knowing he wants sex and we're not having it as often as we should be.
- How do you know when to keep trying vs when to let go?
Any experiences or thoughts would be really appreciated. I feel like I’m trying to heal and grieve at the same time, and I don’t know which direction is kinder to either of us.
i want to be someone who enjoys sex. Reading this book I see other stories of people who thought they just didn't like or didn't care about sex, but then they worked through it all and now they enjoy it and get to experience it as something great.
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