How Can I Forgive Myself For Not Leaving Soone

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It felt like a huge risk 

to leave and start over, 

but you did it. 

And you could have only done that 

if there was still a part of you 

in touch with your 

sense of self and self-worth.

• How can I forgive myself for throwing my thirties away like that and for not taking care of myself?

• Why did I give up on myself?

• How could I let this one person take my belief in love and joy away from me?

• How can I rebuild the trust in myself to be able to meet someone, to be vulnerable, and to take down the protective wall I built around my heart?

You ask me how to forgive yourself for not leaving sooner. 

But I wonder if forgiveness is the wrong place to begin. 

The question that comes to my mind is a different one: 

Why do people stay in situations they know are hurting them?

We often imagine that leaving is simply a matter of courage. 

If only she had more self-respect; if only she had seen the signs; if only she had been stronger. 

1. People often stay because they fear that what awaits them on the other side will be worse. 
2. They stay because they cannot yet imagine another life. 
3. They stay because they have come to believe that this is all they can expect; this is what they are worth; this is what love looks like for them. And over time, their world becomes smaller.

Sometimes the isolation is imposed by the partner: 

You are lucky I want to be with you. 

Who else would want you? 

Sometimes it is self-imposed: 

If only my family knew what my life was really like. 

If only they knew what I had gone back to. 

If only they knew how ashamed I am. 

You stop telling people. 

Then you stop seeing them. 

The relationship becomes a closed system.

Inside the closed system of your 11 year relationship, it sounds like 

both his and your distorted view of you 

began to feel like the truth. 

And then, suddenly, that was all you knew...

Esther Perel

Why Eroticism Should Be Part of Your Self-Care Plan

Volodymyr/ Magnific

 Desire and self-worth 

go hand in hand. 

In order to want, 

we need to feel deserving.

What Is Eroticism?

Eroticism isn’t sex; it’s sexuality transformed by the human imagination. 

It’s the thoughts, dreams, anticipation, unruly impulses, and even painful memories which make up our vast erotic landscapes. It’s energized by our entire human experience, layered with early childhood experiences of touch, play, or trauma, which later become cornerstones of our erotic life. 

We know that even things that give us the most pleasure can come from the most painful sources. Eroticism is not comfortable and neat. 

It unveils inner struggles, emotional tensions, a mix of excitement and anxiety.

How Do We Access It?

I often talk about how couples who are plagued by sexual boredom find themselves there because of a lack of vulnerability with their partners. They prioritize getting it done over exploring the hidden desires that turn them on. The same can be said for the individual. 

When we’re on our own, we mostly know what gets “the job” done. 

Porn. Toys. Intense focus on a specific sweet spot followed by a quick finish. 

But to truly experience the benefits of eroticism, it can’t be treated as a job. 

1. So why are we so quick to punch in and punch out? 
2. Are we afraid of what may happen when we slow down and really spend some quality time with ourselves?

Now more than ever, we are our own panopticons, experiencing social control from the inside. We measure and judge ourselves, at times experiencing our body as a prison rather than a chateau full of rooms to lingeringly explore. 

• And if we struggle with being inside our bodies, why would we take the time to explore them? 
• Or for that matter, how could we ever feel safe to invite anyone else in? 

I’m not talking just about penetration. 

I’m talking about entering our personhood, our dreams, who we are, our heart and soul. 

Many of us are so self-critical that we forget these internal wonders.

‍Erotic self-care begins with diminishing our inner-critic and giving ourselves simply the permission to feel beautiful, to enjoy our own company, to be more compassionate and realistic with ourselves without vacillating between excess and repression. 

I’m thinking of the many people who have described using their fingers to swipe the multitude of possibilities—better kept fantasy than reality—when those same fingers could be used pleasuring themselves.

I Turn Myself Off When . . .

Incorporating eroticism into a self-care plan is basically about loosening the noose of a highly-developed cultural mandate about self-control so that we may explore what brings vibrancy and vitality into our lives. 

Whether we seek to explore eroticism on our own or with a partner, it always starts at the source: our self.

Drawing on the work of the late therapist, Gina Ogden, I like to ask patients to complete this sentence: “I turn myself off when . . .” The answers are endless. 

“I turn myself off when . . . I check email before bed; when I worry about the kids; when I stress about work or the state of my finances; when I overeat or don’t exercise; when I don’t take care of myself.” Notice that, in this list, there is very little that is specifically sexual. 

What turns us off are the things that sap the energy and liveliness out of us.

I Turn Myself On When . . .

The same is true in the reverse. 

When I ask people to complete the sentence, “I turn myself on when . . .” the answers usually have to do with taking time for self-care: going into nature; dancing; pampering; connecting to body and sensuality, nurturing. 

We turn ourselves on when we energize ourselves, when we are embodied and focused—not on any particular goal, such as having an orgasm, but on the present moment. 

Maybe it’s the sensation of a small square of dark chocolate melting on our tongue. 

Or the moment when, in the shower, we start noticing the hot water on the nape of the neck, underarm, and chest. 

There are so many parts of our bodies that we never think to wash, check, or touch.

• Sometimes we ignore these parts of us because somewhere along the line, we began to shut them down. Maybe we were deeply wounded and don’t trust ourselves to open up again. 
• Maybe we feel like we no longer deserve to be attractive because we no longer have the fit body or full head of hair we once had. 
• Or perhaps illness has transformed us, confiscated our breasts, uterus, testicles or another part of us that makes us feel unsexy or unattractive. 
• Sometimes we are in mourning or feel guilty, as if we don’t deserve to be sensual or awakened because we’ve just lost somebody. 
• Sometimes we’re just annoyed. From the stresses of the everyday, to resentments, to deeper wounds, there are a lot of reasons for people to feel out of touch with their erotic selves. 

Often, shutting down feels like the only thing we can control. 

Incorporating eroticism into our self-care plans can alter our relationship with control and transform our state of being.

It’s About Being Receptive, Willing, Open, and Responsive.

These are very important verbs in the realm of the erotic. 

It’s not about saying yes or no to everything; it’s about a willingness to be influenced, receptive, curious. When we’re shut down for a prolonged period of time, we don’t feel open or responsive. We want others to make us want but that doesn’t work so well, remember? Wanting is something that we fully own. No one can make us want except for ourselves.

Desire and self-worth go hand in hand.

In order to want, we need to feel deserving, an idea Susan Rubin Suleiman explored in her book The Female Body in Western Culture. 

Sadly, way too often when we don’t feel attractive, we can’t imagine that somebody else sees us with different eyes than the way we see ourselves. And we certainly don’t feel like we deserve their sensual touch or our own, for that matter. This is one of the ways that self-rejection speaks. 

I want to encourage us to change the script: 

I deserve to take a break. I deserve to stop working. I deserve to lay down. I deserve to make myself feel good. In that healthy sense of entitlement, we don’t produce anything; there’s nothing to measure. It’s a radiant interlude, a decision to notice what we generally don’t pay attention to, to open ourselves up to receive and respond.

Widening the Realm of the Senses

When we widen the realm of the senses, we invite the world in. 

I love to ask people the following questions. Answer them for yourself:

• What’s your favorite temperature of water?

• What’s your favorite temperature generally outside?

• How do you respond to sun, wind, air?

• Are you aware of what touches your skin, of what hovers around you?

• When you wash yourself, what’s your relationship to the body that you’re washing?

• Do you enjoy touching yourself? And I’m not talking about genitals only, but pleasing and soothing yourself.

• When you drink coffee or tea are you just gobbling or savoring?

• Are you aware of your experiences in sensory, sensual, and physical ways?

• Which is the sense with which you make love the most?

• Which sense do you barely notice or use?

Incorporating Eroticism Into Your Self-Care Plan

Self-care isn’t just about facemasks and mindfulness, though those are great, too. 

It’s about tuning into our bodies and letting them teach us what we like, what we don’t like, and what we don’t know about ourselves yet. 

There are so many ways to incorporate eroticism into our self-care plan, from integrating different types of touch—energetic, affectionate, sexual, and erotic—to exploring massage, stroking, tickling, and kinky playing. 

Jaiya, a sexological bodyworker, does a magnificent job of explaining the phases of touch, starting with hovering to healing and beyond. 

I also recommend Chen Lizra’s series “Somatic Intelligence,” in which she teaches Sabrosura, which is rooted in the Cuban art of seduction. Lizra teaches confidence, body awareness, and how to keep the tension through attitude movement. 

Try this: let your fingers roll from your elbow to your wrist in the absolute slowest way you can. Then go even slower.

For me personally, dancing has been my thing. 

We can cry when we paint, listen to music, read, or write, but we can’t cry when we dance. 

The body won’t let us; it can’t move while it weeps. 

For others, it may be the self-soothing that comes from self-massage, that simultaneous giving and receiving. Some of us find eroticism across multiple practices such as tantra and yoga. 

Being in our bodies is not about performance or results. It’s about coming home. 

It’s a pleasurable, sensual connection that reminds us that life is worth living even when we are in pain or struggling. 

If we want to be able to connect better with our bodies, we must invite ourselves to explore different experiences around our senses, and around our sensuality. Befriending our bodies and making peace with them is the beginning of one of the best relationships we can ever have: the relationship with ourselves.

Pleasure is not a reward, it is a right. 

Eroticism—which I define not through the narrow lens of sex, but as aliveness itself—is a fundamental part of what it means to be human. 

Just as self-care requires attention and practice, so too does cultivating our sense of aliveness.

Esther Perel 

Sexless Marriage

 Question: I hear from many women who love their husbands, but have no desire to have sex with them. They really have little sexual desire at all. These women are often in their 40s and perimenopausal. They have no desire to open up their relationship and are not sure what to do. While a part of them wants to sexually satisfy their husbands, the lack of desire makes it challenging, if not impossible.

Esther’s take: For years, many sex therapists assumed that if you have no desire inside the bedroom, that means there are problems outside the bedroom with communication, division of labor, life stressors, etc. That is not necessarily true. Esther has spoken with many couples who are otherwise happy in their relationships. They don’t harbor resentment toward their partners or struggle with external stressors that affect their desire.

Direct quote: 

When I hear this, I ask them: 

“What is it like to live in a state of deadness—of flatness?”

This really hit me, and I know personally, when I have no desire to have sex at all—with anyone—it’s a sign that I’m depressed. I am emotionally flat. Desire, horniness, the ability to want is healthy, at least for me. It makes me feel alive. Esther would agree with the sentiment. 

It’s why she doesn’t just say, “If you don’t want to have sex, you don’t have to.”

To clarify, she’s not encouraging you to have sex when you desperately don’t want to—and of course, you have autonomy over your body and can decline sex at any point—but she will encourage you to reconnect with your desire. There are various ways to reconnect, one of which is to share stories with your partner, connect on a deeper level, and get to know sides of them you never knew, even though you’d been married to them for two decades.

Learning new things about your partner doesn’t just deepen your connection. 

Ironically, it can add a layer of mystique, of mystery, that can be arousing. 

In other words, you don’t know everything about your partner; he’s not just the same man you’ve had dinner with for the past twenty years. That mystique can lead to arousal and desire.

Question: How do men experience intimacy when they worry their partner is having sex out of obligation?

Esther’s take: One thing that Esther hears in her practice is that men get turned on when they see their partners turned on. While this may sound sweet and altruistic—and it can be—the root of this desire is often fear. Many men often fear being predatorial. They fear their partners (in this case, we’re talking cis, straight women) aren’t actually enjoying the sex they’re having, or are faking it, or are placating them. 

Knowing their partner is enjoying it alleviates male anxiety, allows them to be more present in the moment, less in their heads, and actually be able to enjoy the sexual experience.

This response also really spoke to me. In fact, it’s why I tend to engage in kink far more with men than women. I feel like I’m less likely to accidentally cross a line. I also know it’s more egalitarian as we’re both men, and men are more conditioned to say no and set boundaries, whereas many women are conditioned to people-please. Not to mention, I am 6’4 and 215 pounds. When I sleep with a woman who’s 5-feet tall and half my weight, I can’t help but be mindful of the size difference and fear hurting her. 

Is this a form of benevolent sexism? 

Potentially, but I think there’s merit to it. 

Men and women are societally conditioned to be different sexually. 

I am simply acknowledging that fact.

This is not to say I don’t have kinky experiences with women. 

Of course I do, but I need to know they are comfortable saying no and using the safe word. 

What also helps me is knowing that they are far kinkier than I. 

For example, I have a play partner who I’ve seen take a BRUTAL beating at play parties—she loves it—a true sub and masochist. Anything sexual I could want to do with her wouldn’t come close to the shit she does with her other partners. 

So I don’t fear accidentally crossing a line. 

That allows me to really enjoy the sex we’re having and be less in my head.

Zachary Zane and Esther Perel

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Sexless Marriage Effect On the Husband: 

8 Effects of No-Sex Marriage on Men

1. What is the sexless marriage effect on the husband? 
2. Can a sexless marriage last? 
3. Is it healthy to be in a sexless relationship? 
4. What causes a sexless marriage? 
5. Should a man stay in a sexless marriage? 

Sex plays an important role in any marriage. When one partner loses interest in intimacy, it can cause issues in the relationship. As a man, it is important to learn more about sexless marriages, the causes, and how they affect you.

A sexless marriage can be defined as a relationship with a lack of intimacy between the couple. Since different couples have different sexual expectations and desires, experts say that any marriage with ten or fewer sexual activity sessions in a year can be quantified as a sexless marriage. However, this is dependent on the couple, as some couples can still enjoy healthy relationship sex once a month or once every few weeks. If your sex life has drastically declined or become nonexistent over the past few months, you can say that you are in a sexless marriage.

According to a study done in 2019, 19% of 659 couples were in what would be termed a sexless marriage. Most of the couples in this category had only been intimate once or twice in the last year, with some of them saying they had not experienced any form of sexual contact for more than a year.

In comparison, about 35% of the couples had experienced sexual intimacy one to three times per month in their happy marriage, 25% said they had sex weekly, while 21% said they enjoyed sexual intercourse a few times a week, which is healthy sex life.

Numerous reasons can cause the frequency of sex to change in a marriage. Most couples struggle with mismatched libidos, which puts a strain on the person with a higher libido since the spouse cannot satisfy or meet their sexual needs.   

While mismatched libido is the most common cause of a sexless marriage, many other factors can lead to a lack of sex in marriage.

Some of the most common causes include:

• Health issues or a medical condition
• Childbirth
• Stress
• Trauma
• Failed communication
• Mismatched Libidos

Sexless Marriage Effect On the Husband

Sex is one of the things in long-term relationships that foster well-being, continuity, and strengthening of the bond between a husband and wife. When a husband no longer gets sex from their wife, they can experience some side effects.

Low self-esteem

While most men may not admit this, lack of sex at home affects their self-esteem. They see their wife’s lack of sexual desire as a sign of their lack of physical desire for the man. When a man’s sexual advances are constantly rejected at home, they are bound to start feeling undesirable.

Feeling of shame

Men often feel ashamed when sex is no longer served in their homes. This is especially common if the lack of sex is because of the man’s inability to rise to the occasion. The man will avoid any conversation about sex since they feel shame.

Feeling like a failure

A common sexless marriage effect on the husband is the feeling of failure. As it is often said, men are physical beings, and sexual interest is an important aspect of their sexuality. When a man is having regular sex, they develop a sense of fulfillment and see themselves as complete men. On the other hand, if a man cannot get their spouse interested in sex as often as they want, they eventually start feeling like they are not good enough.

Disconnection

Any couple in a sexless marriage will tell you that they feel disconnected from one another. For men, not having sex with their wives over a prolonged time will change their feelings and possibly develop these feelings for another woman willing to meet their sexual needs. This emotional disconnection is often a leading cause of infidelity in marriages.

Poor mental health

Anxiety, stress, and depression are also common sexless marriage effects on the husband. When a husband is denied sex at home for a long time, his mental health is likely to deteriorate from stress, overthinking, and inability to release the feel-good hormone from sex. Poor mental health can also stem from the man’s obsession with his inability to meet his spouse’s sexual needs.

Start to see the wife as just a roommate

Once sex stops being part of a marriage, how the man perceives and treats the wife also changes. With time, the two start coexisting like roommates and not a married couple since sexual intimacy is no longer present in the marriage. Without a sexual connection, it is difficult for a man to treat his wife with the same love, consideration, and care as he did before.

Feelings of loneliness

When a husband does not get his sexual needs met, he may feel lonely. This is often caused by the feeling of isolation stemming from the contract rejection. This is why many married men are lonely.

Isolation

When there is no sex between men and women in a marriage, a man will feel unworthy, lonely, stressed, and frustrated, making him want to self-isolate. This makes the issues worse since the man cannot express his emotions and feelings for fear of being misunderstood and neglected. They see it of no use to keep sharing since sexual intimacy is not there.

If you have been in a sexless marriage for a while and feeling a few or all these issues, it is safe to say that you are going through the effects of a sexless marriage.

Can a Marriage Survive Without Sexual Intimacy?

Yes, a marriage can survive with sexual intimacy. 

However, this is only possible if both parties are no longer interested in sex. 

If a couple is not having sex because of a low sex drive on one partner, or one partner is asexual, there is a chance the marriage may not survive unless they seek help from a sex therapist or counselor. This is especially if the union was founded on shared sexual experiences and not an emotional connection or friendship with one another.

The decision to not walk away and instead stay and make the love life work despite the sexual dysfunction lies solely on the two people in the relationship. 

Sean Galla

Are You Spouses or 

Just Roommates?

You've drifted into a sexless marriage. 

Can this relationship be saved? 

Yes, experts say.

There's no drama, no fighting. You've been together for years, raised kids and pets. The love is still there, but the spark just isn't. As months drift into years, you realize: You're in a sexless marriage.

Most married couples don't really know what to expect of a long-term relationship, says Diane Solee, MSW, a former marriage counselor who is the founder and director of Smartmarriages.com. She is also director of the Coalition for Marriage, Family, and Couples Education.

"It's so normal to hit the doldrums. In a way, you should be smug about it," Solee tells WebMD. "You have a partner who is not bringing drama into your life. You're not going to alcohol or cocaine treatment classes. You are in a very good place. Realizing all that, your job is to get out of the doldrums. You may have gotten into a rut."

There's more at stake than simply boredom. Very often, couples are headed toward a bigger disconnect in the marriage -- and possibly divorce, says Pepper Schwartz, PhD, professor of sociology, psychiatry, and behavioral medicine at the University of Washington in Seattle.

Schwartz is on the Health Advisory Board at WebMD, and author of several books including Prime: Adventures and Advice about Sex, Love, and the Sensual Years.

Signs you're in the marital doldrums: 

"You're leading parallel lives, and don't see each other anymore," she tells WebMD. "You tell everything important to your friends but not to each other. Those are really big problems, and you've got to tend to them."

A sharp tongue is a red flag of growing frustration in a passionless marriage, Schwartz adds. 

"If you're bitchy, if you treat each other with contempt, it's a warning sign. It may not happen all the time, but it happens often. It's because people start to feel neglected, disappointed. They had expectations of what marriage should be like, and this is not what they'd hoped for."

In fact, boredom is very often a cover-up for anger and disappointment, Schwartz explains. 

"Those deeper feelings have to be dealt with. I'm not talking about deep therapy; it can happen in one or two visits. But there has to be a refocusing on the relationship... a renewal of what this marriage is supposed to be."

The Anatomy of Love

First step: Be realistic. If you're looking for the swept-off-your feet sex of those first few years, dream on. And a new partner certainly isn't the solution. Three years later, you'll have the same sizzle-less marriage you have right now.

"The initial passion of any relationship changes after 18 months," says Sallie Foley, MSW, director of the Center for Sexual Health at the University of Michigan. She is the author of Modern Love and Sex and Love for Grownups.

"It moves from the romantic and exciting to an attachment kind of loving, fondness," Foley tells WebMD. "That gotta have it, gotta have it feeling is gone."

Take stock of what you want, she advises. If you want a sex life, then commit to making it happen, Foley says. 

"Not everyone wants a sex life as they head into last third of life. But AARP studies show that 65% remain sexually active."

Put aside the romanticized, silver-screen notions of sex, Foley says. 

"The majority of people your age are having good-enough sex. Occasionally, they have sex that knocks it out of the ballpark. But they're having sex regularly. They're getting into bed, hugging and touching, canoodling as I call it, and they're doing it on a regular basis."

You've also got to set aside negative attitudes about your spouse. 

"You have to give up fantasy notions that he or she is suddenly going to be 20 pounds lighter with no cellulite. You have to decide, 'This is what I want, how do I proceed,'" she advises.

Then, have "the talk" with your spouse. 

You have to be willing to say this to your partner: 

"We need to jazz up our sex life. We have fallen into some bad habits. I'm not going to settle for this level. We need to have sex, the same as we do other things that are important to us. We have to set aside time for it.'"

He's Just Not Up for It?

If your partner is unwilling, here's your dialogue: 

"We need to go for a brief round of counseling to get our priorities straight. I'm not willing to settle for a relationship where you sit in a chair, pop a few beers, and our sex life is over."

The stereotype of grumpy old men exists for a reason, Foley explains. 

"With aging comes an increase in depression and irritability. Women complain to me -- I was ready to try these things, but I couldn't get my partner to do it."

Often, the irritability and crankiness is actually masking anxiety and depression. If your partner is downright snarly about it, then you've got to stand your ground. "This isn't the kind of thing in this day and age that people live with," she says. 

"Our parents or grandparents may have lived that way, but we don't anymore."

With therapy and the right medication, the irritable anxiousness and depression can disappear. If your partner won't go to counseling, then you need to go alone, she says. "Counseling can help you figure out strategies to help yourself."

Put Sex on the Schedule

If you're both on the same page, it's time you put sex on the schedule. Think of it as exercise, your regular workout -- whatever time of day you choose. After all, sexual health is an important part of general health, Foley says.

"It's a very healthy thing for a partnership, there's no question about that," she tells WebMD. "People who have sex tend to feel closer, more intimate."

When you're over 40, there's definitely a "use it or lose it" aspect to sex, she adds. "That means you have to do it every day. You have to be committed to intimate time together. That doesn't mean every single time you take off your clothes and have sex. But set aside time just for the two of you."

Fall in Love Again

Outside the bedroom, you must make time for each other. 

"If you're bored, you can figure your partner is probably bored, too," says Solee. 

"Think what would put excitement into your life. Take responsibility for doing something about it. You really owe it to yourself."

Take a cooking class together, take up kayaking or dancing -- or sign up for a sex workshop, she advises. 

"Share each other's interests. Find new interests together. Single people can follow their own interests. You don't want to send your partner off to a class alone. Mother Nature abhors the doldrums, so don't let someone else fill it."

Trying something new requires a lot of focus -- and that's good for your sex life. 

"It's like when you had kids, or bought your first house. People actually fall in love again."

Between the sheets, keep things spontaneous and fun, she says. 

"The phone is turned off, the dog is behind the door. You get into bed with an attitude of good will. You don't have to have an attitude of 'complete hot.' That's a big misconception."

Allow each other plenty of sensual time to get warmed up. When you're over 40, foreplay is important in building arousal and desire. "When we're 20, it's all pretty straightforward -- desire, arousal, orgasm. After age 40, you need to give arousal more time. You get into bed, start doing it -- then you start feeling some physical arousal. That increases your desire, which increases more arousal."

Also, your mind-set changes. 

"As men get older, they get more focused on eroticism," she says. "They're much more interested in pleasure, in having the connection. Women start asking for what they want."

Couples should also develop a "sexual style," Solee tells WebMD. 

"Most people think that if they've found a lover and soul mate, the sex will be great. Early marital sex is essentially sex with a stranger. This is about letting your partner know you, and getting to know them, intimately. Marital sex can be hotter if you can develop an intimate sexual style with your marriage partner."

Vibrators and Pills

Tools and toys are important, too.

Men: Viagra, Levitra, or Cialis can be effective in men with erection problems, but if you have certain medical conditions or are taking certain medicines, you may not be able to use them.

Ladies: Don't fret if you're not feeling desire right away. Enjoy the process of becoming aroused. A vibrator can help with that, she advises. "After menopause, they may need a more intense vibration, at least initially, if a woman hasn't been sexual in awhile. She may need a vibrator."

If vaginal dryness and pain are issues, look into topical lubricants and moisturizers, Foley adds.

Many vaginal products contain estrogen (which can come in cream, vaginal ring, and vaginal tablet formulation), which helps with dryness, irritation, and muscle tone in the area. If you cannot take estrogen, products like Replens or K-Y Jelly can help with lubrication.

Try a Marriage Retreat

Keeping your marriage on track -- sexually and otherwise -- requires good communications skills, Solee adds. A therapist can guide you toward improving those skills, possibly recommending a marriage retreat.

"It's not our differences that pull us apart, it's how we handle them," she tells WebMD. 

"You need to really listen to your partner in a way he knows you love and respect him. Take a marriage cruise or retreat or a wilderness workshop. Learn to disagree in ways that breed joy and intimacy." 

Marriage education classes are also held in local community centers, churches, and military bases, she adds.

Some workshops are intense group therapy for couples. 

"Some are enrichment weekends -- you learn to massage each others' feet, or talk about sensuality. It depends on how deep your rift is, whether a therapist would recommend a lighter or deeper workshop," Schwartz says.

Group therapy lets you see the relationship more clearly. 

"Often, people find it easier to give empathy to other people than to each other," she explains. "But once empathy is in the room, it kind of fills the room. It helps you give it to each other."

You learn from other couples in the room, Schwartz adds. 

"Some people give voice to something you haven't been able to. It's different if it doesn't come from an authority figure. It becomes a discussion among equals. Other people can see things you may not see. If everybody looks at you and says, ‘Why are you being so hard on her?’ everything changes. You suddenly see, whoa, I am."

 Jeanie Lerche Davis, Louise Chang

Getty Images 

Reasons why couples drift apart and sex becomes non existent:

1. Sex Feels Like a Chore 

The mental load of parenting, work, and daily responsibilities can make intimacy feel like just another task, draining it of excitement and connection.

2. Resentment and Lack of Respect

When one or both partners feels  unseen or unsupported, resentment builds, making emotional and physical closeness nearly impossible.

3. Feeling Used or Rejected 

Whether one partner feels desired only for sex or constantly turned down, both experiences can lead to emotional withdrawal and insecurity.

4. Loss of Emotional Intimacy

When communication breaks down and couples stop sharing thoughts, feelings, and desires, the gap between them grows.

 

The Shift: Seeing and Valuing Each Other Again

Rebuilding connection starts with differentiation recognising and appreciating each other as unique individuals. Instead of focusing on what’s lacking, shift toward understanding:

• Both partners need affection, attention, and validation, though we all express and receive love differently, so owning your side of the conflict shows emotional maturity. 

• Dropping the blame narrative and seeing your partners perspective can soften resentment and open the door to reconnection.

Rupture and Repair 

Sexless relationships often stem from unresolved conflicts, not just unmet needs. 

Couples get stuck in cycles of rupture and repair, where arguments linger and resentment builds. 

The key is not to avoid conflict but to navigate it differently

1. Acknowledge your partner's feelings without immediately defending your own.
2. Choose repair over being right.  
3. Break the cycle of blame by focusing on understanding instead of winning.

 

Rebuilding Intimacy

Steps Toward Connection:

1. Open Communication

Create regular check-ins to discuss feelings and desires without judgment.

2. Rebuild Trust small  consistent efforts help restore security in the relationship.

3. Redistribute the Mental Load Balancing responsibilities prevents exhaustion and resentment.

4. Cultivate Non-Sexual Intimacy prioritise touch, eye contact, and quality time.

5. Address Resentments Bring unresolved issues to the surface and work through them together.

6. Reignite Sexuality Explore fantasies, preferences, and ways to make intimacy enjoyable again.

7. Argue Productively Stay on topic, avoid personal attacks, and always prioritise  repair.

8. Practice Empathy Try to see the situation from your partners perspective.

Every relationship goes through sexless seasons. 

A lack of physical intimacy doesn’t have to mean the end - it’s an opportunity to strengthen the emotional foundation and build a connection that lasts.

Come out of the Power Struggle, give yourself healing time, be aware you are being triggered in this relationship, look at seeking help to move out of the struggle and to feel the real deal of harmony.

Lottie Passell-Syms

Alive or Just Getting Through the Day?

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What does it mean to cultivate aliveness in a time of disruption?

How do we stay connected when everything seems to pull us apart?

How do we reserve our attention and affection for the people right next to us instead of pouring it into our devices?

Every day, we meet people stretched thin by the pace of contemporary life—partners who care for each other yet feel depleted, individuals negotiating between desire and overwhelm, people trying to reconnect to themselves and others against a backdrop of pervasive uncertainty and disconnection.

These realities are zapping our sense of joy and connection. 

As many of us zombie walk our way through meal planning, a 9-5 that may feel unstable right now, childcare, and trying to make time for family and friends, many things that once mattered deeply to us (self-care, hobbies, new adventures) fall by the wayside.

And sex? If it’s not scheduled, it’s probably not happening. 

Not when our brains are convinced that doomscrolling in bed will provide us more dopamine and relief than initiating foreplay.

And yet, our awareness of this reality doesn’t make it any less painful. 

Long before bringing our phones to bed (and to the bathroom, work meetings, and the dinner table) became commonplace, reconciling our dual needs for togetherness and separateness had long been a challenge. 

Sustaining safety and adventure in the same relationship is a balancing act—hard to do when our fractured attention has become a permanent fixture of our current society. This is how many of us live now: out of sync, out of balance, holding on.

So again, what does it mean to cultivate aliveness in a time of disruption? 

We could focus on defining “aliveness” and practical ways to access that precious state of awe and presence. But let’s take a moment to redefine “disruption.” Perhaps by tapping into that word’s multiple meanings we can look at the challenge differently.

The word “disruption” has a double-meaning. 

It can refer to the painful interruptions that drain connection, but it can also refer to the catalytic sparks—the moonshots—that push us to reimagine how we love. 

No one likes a disruption, but they wake us up, don’t they?

A wrong turn. A misunderstanding. 

A lost opportunity. A huge mistake. An illness. 

Some disruptions yank us out of our complacency; some instantly remind us of what and whom we stand to lose. Some make us fight for what matters and others reveal what doesn’t matter as much as we thought it did. Some disruptions instruct us to be curious instead of holding on for dear life to whatever certainty we can find.

So, what to do? 

Feeling alive isn’t only about noticing the beauty all around us, listening to great music, dancing, drawing, laughing, trying new things. 

Real, deep, meaningful connections require tolerating ambiguity, taking risks, and stretching beyond our comfort zones. Just past that edge is where desire lives. Most importantly, aliveness isn’t something we wait for; it’s something we cultivate, reach for—and practice.

We practice aliveness by leaning into certain disruptions: asking new questions, directing our attention to something different, taking a detour together on an unfamiliar road. 

We often think of relationships as places we go to feel safe, and safety is important. 

But relationships are also places that ask something of us. 

They ask us to stay engaged, to remain permeable, to resist the slow drift into indifference, to problem-solve, to try and fail, and try again.

To be alive is to be in relationships—with others, yes—but also with uncertainty, with change, with the parts of ourselves that are still unfolding. 

The disruptions are not going anywhere. But neither is our capacity to meet them differently. And in that space, in the way we respond, repair, and reimagine, we begin again to feel something, not just stable and secure, but alive.

Let’s Turn the Lens on You

A Small Disruption, Chosen

Pick one small moment today where you would normally go on autopilot—and interrupt it deliberately.

• At dinner or in bed, leave your phone in another room and ask yourself (or a partner): “What’s been on your mind lately that you haven’t said aloud?” Then stay with the answer. No fixing. No pivoting.

• The next time you’re feeling the urge to withdraw (scroll, multitask, shut down), do the opposite: name it. “I’m checking out right now, but I don’t want to.”

• Break a script you always follow. For instance, when someone asks “how are you?,” don’t just say “good, and you?” this time. Pause for a moment. You don’t need to answer fully with lots of details, but answer honestly.

Afterward, reflect: 

1. What did this disruption cost you? 
2. And what did it make possible? 

Aliveness doesn’t come from novelty alone. 

It often comes from risking something in the presence of another.

Esther Perel

Promises and Resolutions

Contained within every promise is an oath of accountability: an understanding that something will or will not be done. I promise to love you until death do us part. I promise I’ll never cheat on you again. I promise I’ll pay you back. I promise I’ll be there.‍

A resolution, on the other hand, is a declaration of desire. I want to spend more time with my family and friends. I want to lose weight. I want to make time to travel. Resolutions activate a mental state of regard for our quality of being. In this mindset, we live in the exhilarating in-between of who we have been and who we wish to be. 

The fantasy of a clean slate motivates us to change. 

But will we?

Personally, I have not made a resolution in years. 

The minute I set a goal of restriction, I trespass it. 

I hate rules, and more so the ones I impose on myself. It’s been said that Susan Sontag could say “I don’t drink” while pouring herself a glass of whiskey. I can relate, but with food. Dissociation is at the root of compulsive behavior—like when I say I’m full while en route to the fridge for more. There’s an intervention I’ve used on occasion, with the right amount of humor, where I ask people to write an undated check with a major amount to be sent to their most despised politician in the event of a significant lapse of commitment. I’ve often looked for such creative ordeals to keep me on track.

But no matter how creative we get, we still struggle with getting in our own way. Ambivalence is a very interesting piece of the human psyche. I want and I don’t want. I want but I don’t believe I can. I want but I would feel guilty if I did. We’re always playing this game with ourselves, but it intensifies around the new year. Our resolutions reflect this juxtaposition of self-criticism and self-optimization. 

The simple statement that we will change makes us think that the parts of us we struggle with will disappear. We fantasize about that other person, the person we could be. Such magical thinking.

What if we tried to better understand how the parts of us which we perceive as shameful hold us back—instead of burying them under unfulfilled gym memberships and the dreaded quest to “be our most authentic selves?” 

Truthfully, if we wanted to be our most authentic selves, we would binge-watch Netflix, eat cookie dough for breakfast, and never lean in to our most optimized selves—the versions of us that meditate and exercise daily, and travel the world while our well-invested money compounds in our well-managed accounts. 

Instead, we often reward our efforts by momentarily indulging in the very habits we’re trying to break. We rationalize that what we do in one moment doesn’t get in the way of the larger goal. 

What’s your vice?

The reality is that we live in stereo. 

On one side: who we are. 

On the other: who we’d like to be. 

Between them, there’s another force at play—the person we no longer want to be, holding on to commitments that no longer serve us, ready to break a promise but unsure of how. 

What outdated stories are masquerading as promises in your life? 

I’m not successful because I didn’t start with a trust fund. 

I’ll never find a partner because I’m unlovable. 

I will fail my children because my parents failed me. 

The new year is a good time to be forward-thinking about who you want to be; but it’s also a great time to look back at what you’re ready to let go of: 

the wrong partner or job; 

the narratives we use to justify our setbacks; 

the versions of ourselves—past, present, future—that no longer make sense.

There are plenty of articles that will encourage you to make new year’s resolutions. 

I would like to invite you to think about the promises you need to break instead. 

Ask yourself: 

What would 2026 be like if our resolutions—that mental state of activation—was informed by the promises that we’re finally ready to break?

Let’s Turn the Lens on You

You’ve identified what you want to change; how do you stick with it?

• ‍Identify the stories no longer serving you. You can do this alone in a diary or bring a couple of friends together. It’s a great question for a group conversation over dinner.

• ‍Take it a step further: invite each other to be witnesses of the changes you claim to want to make. Set up an accountability schedule, i.e. commit to checking in with each other by sending quick updates or scheduling your next dinner that way you’ve got two things covered: your own plan and staying connected to your friends.

• ‍Make a promise to yourself and a promise to your loved ones. Sometimes it’s easier to be accountable when we know someone else is counting on us.

• ‍Don’t be afraid to break promises; it’s an important process.

• ‍When you slip, know that you can always start again tomorrow. Getting derailed doesn’t cancel the entire promise or resolution. But don’t spend 365 days restarting.

Esther Perel

Coping With Loneliness Around The Holidays

Feeling lonely around the holidays can make us feel as if something is wrong with us. 

Everybody else seems to know how to be happy, how to be together, how to be festive, merry, and bright. But feeling lonely around the winter holidays is extremely common. And even more so during this year of isolation.‍

Before we can digest our Thanksgiving food, that familiar cheer creeps in. 

Twinkling lights on trees, menorahs and kinaras in windows, classic films on every channel, carols ringing out in the streets—these holiday symbols can inspire the best feelings in the world, but they can also feel oppressive when we’re finding it difficult to catch the spirit. It can seem as if everyone else occupies their own winter wonderland with people they love, money to buy food and toys, and even time to volunteer. 

This wrapped-in-a-bow fantasy is rarely the reality for most people. 

More often than not, the holidays are a time of increased stress and loneliness—even for self-proclaimed holiday fanatics. 

The National Alliance for Mental Illness cites 

“extra stress, unrealistic expectations, [and] sentimental memories that accompany the season” as sources of loneliness around the holidays for everyone, but especially for those of us who struggle with mental illness.

This extra pressure around holidays is especially intense in America because it’s often the one time each year when families come together. 

Some of us feel obligated to choose between families, and to buy plane tickets and gifts even when money is tight. 

Others among us feel that we have no one with whom to spend the holidays or that the people we long to be with are far away or no longer around—loved ones who have died and former partners, both of whom make up some of our happiest and most painful holiday memories.

The Holidays Evoke Both Pleasure and Pain

There is a moment in our adult lives when we realize that behind much of the holiday magic of our childhood were major sacrifices: our mother who stressed over getting the gifts we coveted; the father who missed many nights of family dinners working overtime to afford the big meal; the eldest sibling who pulled an all-nighter to wrap gifts and stood by while the young ones worshipped Santa Claus, marveling at his stamina. 

True holiday spirit lives in these profound gestures, but like all spirits, it can be haunting.

Even holiday memories formed in adulthood can feel like a shattered window to the past. 

We can barely make out the warm, glowing scene behind the cracks but we feel the heat long after the fire’s gone out. 

It’s the memories of a former lover with whom we created new traditions, who helped heal childhood wounds, only to eventually create newer traditions with someone else. 

It’s driving past the apartment where we celebrated with an old friend who’s no longer in our lives. 

It’s helping our mother downsize, watching her grapple with the decision to get rid of the wrapping paper she hoarded that was too nice to use. 

It’s buying gifts our children will get bored of in two weeks. 

It’s buying eggnog for one. 

There is perhaps no other time of year in which the pleasure and pain of our memories feels so routine, in which we experience such ambivalence about our own sense of joy.

Coping with Loneliness in a Time of Crisis

Holiday cards and social media posts of families in matching sweaters with mugs of hot cocoa present a nice picture, but behind every lush garland and wreath is the unspoken feelings that the holidays sometimes bring. It’s those feelings of scarcity—not having enough and not being enough. And this time of pandemic, economic strife, and global remoteness has amplified this. 

This year, how many of us can relate to the feelings of:

• Craving physical contact

• Longing to sit at a table together

• Exhaustion due to counting days since potential exposure

• Isolation because no one can visit this year, especially in nursing homes

• Desiring to shop and dine at our favorite local spots that have permanently closed—we miss those familiar faces

• Wanting to talk to a stranger in line about the gifts they’re buying

• Family tensions boiling over day after day while we remain on top of each other

• Navigating political differences that leave us pulling our hair out

• Not having enough money to get the gift we want for our partner

• Chronic judgement around pandemic protocol

• Wanting our kids to see their grandparents (and wanting our parents to help with the kids)

• Missing the office holiday party

• Going on a real first date

It is long-established that the mortality risks posed by loneliness and social isolation is comparable to those posed by smoking and obesity. That feels especially obvious this year. But if there is any silver lining to this year’s specific version of holiday loneliness, it’s that many of these circumstances are largely universal—and so are the resources to face them.

Reach Out & Reach In

We continue to be living through a period that demands collective resilience. 

Relationships are often the strongest protective factors to keep us tethered to ourselves in times of crisis. This holiday season is an opportunity to create new traditions that challenge the DNA of our society that says we have to do it all alone. 

This is a time to practice creative collectivism instead of Darwinian survival of the fittest. 

1. Send cards. 
2. Write letters. 
3. Acknowledge the people we think and care about by actually picking up the phone and calling them. 
4. Cook for someone; drop it off at their house. 
5. Foster a pet. 
6. Start an indoor garden. 
7. Take a long walk and say hello to those we pass. 
8. Identify one or two people in our social sphere and create an oath of accountability to cook healthier together. 
9. Cook with each other on FaceTime. 
10. Support a beloved local restaurant or small business by purchasing gifts cards and sending them to friends. 
11. Schedule monthly check-ins with loved ones and put it on both calendars. 
12. Join a virtual group, film forum, or a newspaper’s book club. 
13. Volunteer. 
14. Reach out to a nursing home to see if anyone wants to talk by phone. 
15. If you’re in a city, go listen to street musicians. 
16. Join a fan club. 
17. Do a live virtual exercise class. ‍

There are many resources for turning holiday loneliness into strong relational health. 

But that’s easier said than done. 

When we’re experiencing loneliness, it can be especially difficult to reach out for help. 

With that in mind, we reached out to our own community to pull together resources for coping with holiday loneliness. 

This list was made with you in mind and it is yours to share with anyone you think might benefit from it. Consider it a mini reading club in which you can come together to discuss.

Our Community Resource Pool for Coping with Loneliness

Our social media channels were flooded with messages about how to cope with holiday loneliness. Here’s a sampling:

I have been feeling lonely during holidays for the last 8 years now. I learned to allow myself to feel sad and cry if needed but then get up and do something that makes me feel good such as going for a walk, doing a workout or have a dance party by myself.

Having something to look forward to everyday even if it’s small—walks, pets, a good book, an episode, a yoga session, cooking a slow meal.

Wake up early. The time that you think you should. A time that makes you proud of yourself just for getting out of bed. Make your bed. It’s a gift to yourself when you’re tired. Yoga 1hr. Put on clothes that you would wear outside the house. No track pants. Healthy breakfast. Fruit. Light filter coffee, but not too much. Work now. Focus. Be decisive and compassionate. If the sun comes out, go outside into it. Exercise. Maybe a quick run. Some pull ups. Or even just a walk. The cold air in your lungs and the sun in your eyes sends some kind of shockwave into the nervous system that makes you happy. Call the family. Use the L word. Meditate. Work more. Cook for yourself or your loved ones. Or let them cook for you. Thank them. Make them laugh. Eat and drink things from happy soil. Don’t eat shit. Chocolate isn’t shit. Chocolate is delicious. Squeeze in a little more work if it’ll help you sleep better later. Know your boundaries. Don’t use electronics in the bedroom after dinner. When your eyes start to sting, write a quick journal, then wash your face, brush your teeth (floss! It shows you that you care about yourself) and then read a book. Anything. Put on pyjamas, not your dirty undies from the day. Sleep in the clean folded sheets that you made for yourself earlier.

Watching Christmas movies from childhood (Home Alone, Christmas Vacation), listening to happy Christmas music that reminds me of happier times with family and baking all the favorite things my loved ones, who are gone, loved. Holidays aren’t as magical as I get older; it’s the memories and traditions that bring me joy.

Taking a walk or run, early in the morning before the kids wake up. I’ve been doing this for months and though I haven’t been feeling my best, spending energy alone and out of the house has helped a bit to cope. I come back home having taken 10,000 steps and the day is just beginning. That’s a good feeling.

A lot of warm showers and warm socks. Hot tea and a lot of blankets. Funny memes sent to friends and family.

Breathing exercises, taking care of my dog, putting on my favorite Christmas movies, preparing my grandma’s recipes.

I collect recipes of foods that friends and family members cook. I ask them to teach me how to make it. When I miss that person, I cook their dish. It doesn’t taste the same of course, but it’s more about reenacting the experience we had together.

Writing postcards and thank you cards with the good stuff that we shared during the year. The rest of the year I can’t bring myself to do it because it seems too cheesy, but on Christmas and New Years there’s finally the right background mood for it.

I do what I would love to receive from others: I reach out.

Reading old letters and looking through pictures.

Writing down what I’m grateful for.

Let my dog sleep in my bed with me and hot baths.

Seek out ways to volunteer/help.

I go for walks and listen to podcasts.

FaceTime cocktail party with my tribe.

Secret santa with my friends based all over Europe.

Filling my house with Hygge, planning great gifts since we’re not seeing anyone for the holidays (really thinking through what people have talked about as interests and desires), embracing my kids’ innocence about what’s happening around us (their joy is easy), listening to podcasts who keep it real. The hosts start to feel like friends. FaceTiming often.

Expressing gratitude to people in the grocery store or on a customer service call. It helps me to recognize not only their help being important to the world, but also that the world has people in it who help me. It’s a gratitude that refills itself.

I light candles, put on some music, and write postcards to friends. Making postcards is a fun art process (or you can buy them) and postage is still less than 50 cents! Thinking about each person and what I want to say to them becomes a meditation on what I love about these dear ones, and helps me feel closer to them. I enjoy receiving physical, handwritten mail and I hope my little offerings help my friends feel my love for them across the distance!

Allow myself to feel. Watch the movies I love. Cook those holiday classics that remind me of great memories, but also remind myself of all the drama I will spare myself this year and go for a walk enjoying the snow!

Turn on music and dance—anything that will make me laugh. I create; sewing, painting, writing, designing. Take a calming bath with songs which will soothe me. Call my family and be silly with them. End the night with a tap on my own shoulder, saying you did good today.

Esther Perel