Finding an Oasis in a Relationship Parched by an Intimacy Drought

When a drought hit the normally libidinous sex life of a long-married Venice couple, it erupted from rage over a loss of trust.

“I was so angry that I thought if I had sex with him, I was going to have to kill him,” recounted the 50-year-old wife, who asked not to be identified. “It was an extended storm. We had sex three times that year. I really like sex. So it had to be something huge for me to stop.”

Dry spells happen, say psychologists and sex therapists. The birth of a baby (especially the first), illness, aging, hormonal shifts, conflict, mismatched libidos and job change can send a couple’s sex life into deep freeze.

And once sex diminishes, building a bridge back to intimacy becomes more and more difficult. Refraining from touching, not sending sex cues and letting opportunities for sex slip by become habits.

The more a couple has invested in their relationship (i.e. time, children and financial stakes), the more difficult it can be to really open up about sexual incompatibility.

“It is easier to stay closed off and protect yourself,” said Lonnie Barbach, a San Francisco clinical psychologist. “Sex makes you vulnerable.”

Initiating sex after bouts of none can be fraught with emotional danger, leading to awkwardness and anxiety, she said.

A 43-year-old Santa Monica actor remembers “trying not to be a jerk” after his wife had a baby seven years ago.

“I was trying not to be an animal, even though I desired this,” he said. “But after months had passed, I said ‘I would really like you to say that we will do this.’ But again, I didn’t want her to feel pressure.”

Intimacy with a husband is not high on a new mother’s list. (The baby, after all, is a 24-hour intimacy machine.) Usually, though, the drought is temporary. Regular sex usually resumes in about a year, which one man described as “forever.”

“After my desire has been denied for weeks, I will try to initiate sex, but he doesn’t always want it,” said a 45-year-old marketing executive whose husband is happy to have sex once every couple of months (and who does not like her to initiate it). The disconnect of their mismatched libidos has left the woman mournful over what she describes as a loss of her sexual self.

Ann Langley, a therapist at the San Jose Marital and Sexuality Centre, said the woman’s frustration is common. With rare exceptions, she said, the person with the lowest desire determines sex frequency. The higher-sexed person typically feels a partner is not attracted to them. The less libidinous mate often thinks their partner doesn’t appreciate their needs.

A loss of sexual intimacy is like a wound, said Paul Abramson, a UCLA psychology professor. Scars prohibit contact. Both partners interpret the wound as rejection.

“Each person begins to project onto the wound ‘You don’t care about me. You are frigid or you are not attracted to me,’ ” he said. “The projections then become the obstacle to resuming sexual relations.”

Finding a way back to physical closeness means each person has to take responsibility for the problem, Abramson said. The issues and feelings of anger and resentment blocking the way back must be faced. Ultimately, he said, partners need to ask each other, “What can I do that will allow us to move back toward intimacy?”

The Venice woman, whose anger affected her sex life for a year, finally asked herself that question.

“After a while, there wasn’t anything that had to be done,” she recalled. “All apologies had been said. I was between a rock and hard place. There was no way out. It was bad for me not to have sex and it was bad for me not to love my husband. We got a hotel and reignited it.”

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Birds & Bees is a weekly column on relationships and sexuality. E-mail Kathleen Kelleher at kellehr@gte.net.