Were You Raised for Autonomy or Loyalty?

iiievgeniy

 

We spend our lives negotiating 

the paradox of 

being true to ourselves and 

belonging to others.

My early work was as a cross-cultural therapist, working primarily with intercultural, interfaith, and interracial couples. In these sessions, I would inevitably hear one partner—the one raised in a more individualist culture—say to the other: you need to do what makes you happy.

It wasn’t always those exact words. 

The implication, however, was always the same: that authenticity to oneself is a moral imperative. 

This was usually meant in a loving, supportive way. 

“You need to do what’s right for you, not your parents” is permission-giving. 

You’re allowed to focus on yourself. You’re allowed to prioritize your own desires. 

And WE are allowed to make decisions without opinions or guilt from others.

The other partner would often sit there confused or, more often, frustrated. They’d had this conversation before. And here they were again, debating autonomy versus loyalty—being true to oneself, as an individual, versus belonging to one’s community. They would say:

I can’t be happy if it means making the people I care about unhappy.

If you can’t get along with my parents, how are we supposed to be a family?

Religion is a big part of my life. If you won’t convert, I’m not sure we have a future.

For this partner, who often came from a more collectivist society, the conversation always came back to “what supports the group and my place within it?”

The notion of how central is the self has led me to explore a set of questions around the tension between autonomy and loyalty, often presented as two things that are in opposition to each other:

1.Were you primarily taught to prioritize autonomy and independence, to trust yourself and stand on your own two feet, because you alone are responsible for what happens to you?

2. Or were you raised more so for loyalty and interdependence, with a sense that your problems are not just yours?

3. What have been some of the consequences? Do you try to do everything because you can’t rely on anyone else? Or do you hesitate to do anything until you know what everyone else thinks?

Consider your own upbringing. 

You might come from a family with closed doors, who could be inside their room for hours and nobody wondered where they were. In my house, when I closed my door, someone knocked within five minutes and said “Is everything okay?” 

These experiences teach very different ideas about what relationships are.

It isn’t always one or the other, nor is it fixed across contexts. 

We are in constant negotiation between autonomy and loyalty. 

And both come with their own unique challenges. 

Finding the balance demands that we know ourselves—but the self is not something we uncover once and then protect forever. 

Who we are evolves all the time and it evolves through our relationships with others. 

It is often in the presence of others that we discover ourselves and transform ourselves. 

And it is also in the presence of others that it can be so easy to lose ourselves.

It’s easy to understand why people are protective of their autonomy. 

Many have spent whole relationships being consumed by the needs and expectations of another. Boundaries help us understand where another person ends and we begin—they clarify our roles and responsibilities. 

However, in a culture that constantly puts the self before the community, the language of boundaries can serve to calcify autonomy, rather than support it.

The more we treat every accommodation as self-abandonment, every obligation as oppression, and every compromise as a violation, the less we’re able to understand and practice the types of compromises that both relationships and community require of us. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t protect ourselves from situations that threaten to devour us. Nor that we should always concede to what others tell us to do.

The task isn’t to solve a problem or pick one side. 

It’s to practice flexible alternation, the ability to move between autonomy and loyalty depending on what the situation requires. 

This means intentionally pausing to consider the context of the situation instead of defaulting to our usual stance. 

1. In which situations should you prioritize your individual needs? Why? 
2. In which situations should you prioritize the needs of the relationship? The family? The collective? Why? 

In long-term relationships, this exploration never ends. 

Ultimately, we’re better off for inviting the tension than trying to smooth it away.

Esther Perel

Self-Accountability in Relationships. Own your part in the story. Honor your reality

kieferpix/iStock

How do you own your part without letting go of what you know to be true?

Owning your part is an act of humility, and that gesture opens the door for your partner to reciprocate, to meet you in an honest place.

Every story comes with multiple storytellers. 

And yet, not every narrator has an equally large share of the story to tell. 

Couples claim one of two roles—the sinner or the saint. 

One arrives with a long list of transgressions to share, the other absorbs the blame.

One partner becomes the storyteller, the one who gives the history: how they met, how it used to be, and how they ended up in this office. 

The other will sit, reluctantly listening to the balance sheet of their mistakes and shortcomings.

‍For this person, therapy can feel like a punishment for their actions and their last shot to fix things. They’ll sit there and take it or occasionally interject to correct the record. But mostly, the therapist will witness the dynamic they’ve seen hundreds of times before. 

In couples, it’s the sinner and the saint. 

In polycules, it’s the weak link in the chain and everyone else pulling weight. 

The deep issues that bring clients into therapy, however, rarely lie at the feet of one person alone.

‍Relationship dynamics go beyond the binary of perpetrator and victim, powerful and powerless, betrayed and betrayer—the accountant and the accountable. 

Recognizing that all parties are a piece of the pie does not mean that everyone’s slice is the same size and made up of the same ingredients. But owning your part is essential to breaking through impasses.

The other side of that breakthrough begins when each person freely shares what they are doing differently with the intention to improve things, rather than doggedly focusing on the change they need from their partner. 

This is how therapists know they’re getting somewhere. 

Their job is not to act as judge, jury, and executioner. 

It’s to help the clients navigate how people in love can behave in unloving ways—and how they can carve a new path.

But the issues that bring people into the room rarely sit at one person’s feet. 

And in recognizing what your own part consists of, big or small, you also open the door for conversation and connection. It’s often hard to do, it requires humility. But when you show up in this way, you invite the other person to meet you with similar honesty and reflection.

This does not mean that you have to refute your version of what you know to be true. 

Owning your part does not require rejecting your experience of events. Rather the two can be held together: 

I take ownership of this element of the dynamic. And what happened to me, what I felt was real.

You can be honest about your share in a story without handing over the pen. 

This goes for romantic relationships, as well as ones with friends, family members, and colleagues. Listen to what you know to be true and practice grace—for yourself, maybe for another. 

In that can be the foundation for healing.

Own your part in the story. Honor your reality

You do everything you can think of to make it work: 

You craft every text perfectly. 

You aren’t too eager or too distant. 

You read the self-help books. 

You work on yourself. 

Still, here you are thinking, 

“Why am I giving so much and getting so little?”

If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. 

I often hear from people who feel like it’s their responsibility to make a relationship last beyond the first few dates or even last a lifetime. They tie themselves in knots to make it work. And if it doesn’t, they blame themselves for not doing (or being) enough.

But in relationships, this self-blame doesn’t lead to greater satisfaction or happiness. 

Self-accountability, however, does. 

By taking responsibility for your own feelings, experiences, and expectations, you make it easier to invite another person to do the same—and increase the likelihood that you both get what you desire.

Here’s what this might look like in practice:

1. Instead of doing things you don’t love, you say: “I’m not a big sports fan. Why don’t you watch the game with friends tonight and I’ll do my own thing? I’d love to watch that movie I’ve had on my list with you tomorrow. I think we’ll both like it!”
2. Instead of waiting to know where you stand, you ask: “Hi! I had a great time on our date and I’d love to see you again next week. Since you haven’t texted back, I’m hoping you can let me know if you just don’t feel the same. It’s better to know than to wonder, and easy communication is really important to me. Thanks!”
3. Instead of hoping they’ll read your mind, you share: “I love when you bring me little gifts from your work trips. It lets me know you’re thinking of me even when we’re apart. What’s something that makes you feel thought of?”

When you engage in self-accountability, you release the urge to control how the other person will respond. Instead, you’re owning your experience, then making an invitation. 

You’re saying, 

“This is where I am. Where are you?” 

It’s possible they won’t accept it or reciprocate, but by practicing self-accountability, you’re opening the door for both of you to move forward in honest conversation—together.

Now let’s turn the lens on you:

1. What’s one feeling, experience, or expectation you might not be fully owning?
2. If you were to practice self-accountability and share this truth, what invitation might you make with it? 

If you’re not used to owning your part so directly, this might feel intimidating. 

But whether or not you decide to share your answers, responding to these questions truthfully is the first step toward greater self-accountability.

Your Partner Will Practice Self-Accountability When You Do

Owning your part is an act of humility, and that gesture opens the door for your partner to reciprocate, to meet you in an honest place. Your apology lessens the shame on the other to do the same. And while you may feel that your missteps pale in comparison to those of your partner’s, they might not feel the same way. 

Taking accountability for yourself does not excuse the other person. 

It helps them see that apologizing for their mistake doesn’t mean that they are a mistake. 

If you can do it, perhaps they can, too. ‍

‍If you have been wounded by your partner time and time again, accepting any kind of responsibility can feel like losing ground in an endless battle to prove you deserve better. But even the phrase “can’t you see how you’re hurting me?” is likely to trigger a defensive response that throws the responsibility back on you. “Yes, but I never would have slept with them if you had shown any interest in me whatsoever.” ‍

If you say to your partner “you never thank me,” you are all but ensuring that future thank-yous will become obligatory rather than heartfelt and sincere. 

Instead, consider saying 

“I love supporting you and your gratitude is really important to me.”‍

If you are aghast at how your typically responsible mate lost your shared money, have you asked if 

1. They felt financial pressure to take care of you? 
2. Did the desire to give the children a successful start empty the bank account? 
3. What’s the larger context? 
4. And what is your part in it? 

This is not victim blaming; this is acknowledging the inherent complexities of what it means to be responsible in your relationship. 

Practices for Self-Accountability

Try one or more…

• Own your experience. You can describe your experience as a consequence of the other’s actions, but pay attention to the language you use. Trade out “you made me feel” for “you did not acknowledge me and then I felt rejected.” 

• Stop punishing. Do you want to hurt them or do you want both of you to be able to learn from this and move on in your relationship together?

• Make a choice: if you want to continue the relationship, make that choice. 

• Prioritize clarity and expectation setting. As the PREP program teaches, be specific about what happened and how you felt using X, Y, Z statements: “when you did X in situation Y, I felt Z.”  ex: “When you thank everybody for helping you with this big project, and you don’t mention me at all, it makes me feel that you don’t recognize my contributions or value—staying home with the kids, taking care of the house, while you did your thing.”

• Practice differentiation. It involves identifying and clarifying your thoughts, feelings, and desires while being open and curious about your partner’s. It’s the ability to simultaneously experience connection and autonomy and not personalize their autonomy as a rejection of you.

• Ask them about their experience. Be curious about the context of their behavior. Demonstrate empathy. 

• Separate the behavior from the person. “We both know what you did was bad but I don’t view you as a bad person.”

• Beware of “Fundamental Attribution Error.” In stressed relationships, we tend to see our behavior as circumstantial and their behavior as characterological. We’re black and white about others and nuanced about ourselves. 

• When we’re in a bad mood, it’s because we had a bad day. When they’re in a bad mood, it’s because they’re not a nice person. 

• Use humor. If you find the right tone, humor can be helpful for owning your part and diffusing tension. 

• Practice grace. You can be so mad at your partner or so mad at yourself. It doesn’t mean the whole house has to come down. Practicing grace is the acknowledgement that you don’t condone what has happened but you keep room for redemption and healing. 

Esther Perel

Are some secrets okay to keep?

 

Victoria Kotlyarchuk

What are we each entitled to keep to ourselves — and when does a secret become a betrayal?

In the wake of a betrayal, people often go through three stages: 

Crisis, Meaning-making, and Vision. 

When the dust has settled on the major revelation, it is time to figure out what happened, and what it means.

Immediately following the discovery of betrayal, you might find yourself in “the crisis phase.” 

In this phase, people often become detectives, on the hunt for clues in an attempt to piece together the who, what, when, and where. 

The facts sometimes provide structure, a sketched-out shape of the situation, but they rarely bring peace.

Insight is the next stage. 

This phase is where the story of what happened gives way to the story of what it reveals—about you, the other person, and the way you relate to one another.

Meaning-making is about moving from a flat story—you cheated; you lied; you hid—to a more dimensional understanding. 

What dynamic allowed this to happen? 

This is not to excuse it, but to contextualize it, to understand it. 

Why does this matter? 

Because understanding is at the heart of rebuilding trust. 

If I cannot understand what the betrayal meant, how can I know what repair will look like, whether repair is wanted, or even possible?

Betrayal isn’t always as black and white as we may think. 

Many couples discover a challenging truth, especially in situations of ambiguity. 

There was a line between what may have felt okay to keep private and what was ultimately a hurtful secret. 

What are people allowed to keep for themselves, and when?

Is it an old friendship you don’t mention? 

A text thread? 

A separate account? 

Some are a past that may not need to be revisited. 

Others are threads that lead somewhere important.

Some secrets need to come to light while other revelations do more damage than the silence they replaced. It’s a fine line and one to cross carefully, if at all. 

Whether the betrayal is between partners, friends, or family members, before you make any big moves, listen to what the pain is trying to tell you.

Esther Perel

Every Betrayal Tells a Story

Biryani, Pakistani drama 

From infidelity to financial secrecy to self-betrayal, what happens when the ground beneath us no longer holds?

Shall We Begin?

There are certain words that stop a conversation the moment they are spoken.

“Betrayal” is one of them.

The word arrives carrying its own verdict. 

We hear it and immediately begin arranging the familiar pieces: an affair, a lie, a broken promise. But underneath it all, betrayal is a violation of trust. From a relational perspective, it’s a broken agreement, spoken or unspoken. Betrayal often leaves people feeling like the rug has been ripped out from under their feet. I thought I knew this person. I thought I knew our relationship. Now, I doubt everything—not just the future, but the past.

Infidelity has been one of the main forms of betrayal I have focused on in my work. 

Few experiences so abruptly divide life into a before and an after. But, this summer, as we’ve listened to the couples on Where Should We Begin?, and responded, via Ask Esther, to letter-writers looking for answers to their own relational dilemmas, it’s clear that betrayal has echoes far beyond affairs.  

What comes to mind when you hear the word “betrayal”?

One person described betrayal as a heart attack. Another called it an infection. Someone wrote that it is the absence of a willingness to find our way back to one another. Another wondered if the deepest betrayal is the betrayal of the self. And one thoughtful member of our community challenged the word altogether, asking whether “betrayal” is sometimes a judgment rather than an understanding.

I found myself nodding at every response. 

Each person was describing a different landscape: Different relationships. Different losses. Different histories. And yet they were all pointing toward the same human experience: 

the moment something we depended on no longer holds.

Perhaps that is why betrayal hurts so profoundly. 

Yes, trust has been broken, but it’s also a wake up call that certainty is often an illusion. 

• We lose confidence in “our person” and in our own perception. 
• We feel foolish, heartbroken, and a noxious mix of emotions that go beyond anger and sadness into something altogether debilitating, destabilizing. 
• Add “dissociative” to that mix, and you get the point.

We begin revisiting conversations, memories, and decisions wondering, 

What did I miss? What else don’t I know? 

The wound is not only relational. It is existential. 

This is why my interest has never been only in affairs, but in the meaning we attach to them. 

In reading your letters and comments, I’ve heard the stories you inherited about loyalty and love; the silent agreements you never knew you had made; the ways your families teach you what can be spoken, what must remain hidden, and what you should and should not expect from intimacy itself. 

Once you begin looking closely, betrayal appears in places we rarely name.

As I look ahead to what we’ve planned for August, I’m hearing how 

1. Betrayal can live in a hidden bank account or undisclosed debt, in financial secrecy that reorganizes a relationship for years before anyone discovers it. 
2. Betrayal can exist in institutions that promise safety but abandon us when we need them most. 
3. It can show up in families that ask us to swear ourselves to silence as a condition of belonging. 
4. It can rear its head in the moments when we abandon ourselves—one of the most painful types of betrayal there is.

This month, I’d like to continue widening this conversation. 

We’ll explore financial betrayal, not simply as a matter of dollars and cents, but as a story about trust, dependence, autonomy, power, secrecy, and bankruptcy. Because money, like sex, is rarely just about money. And, just as we’ve been exploring big questions all summer long, we’ll continue asking them with real life stories on the podcast. 

Questions such as:

• I Love My Partner, So Why Can’t I Let Go of My Ex?

• Am I Being Gaslit?

• Can I Be Loved?

• Will I Always Be Alone?

I’ve often said that therapy is less about providing answers than it is about asking better questions. 

Let’s Turn the Lens on You

Betrayal takes many forms. 

Think of a time when the ground shifted beneath you.

Before you revisit what happened, ask yourself: 

What certainty did I lose?

Sometimes the answer isn’t about another person; it’s a belief, an expectation, or a story you once told yourself about love, family, work, or who you were.

Now ask yourself: 

What was broken? Was it trust? An expectation? A shared agreement? 

What was spoken? What was unspoken and assumed?

How did your experience of betrayal change things for you? 

Focus first on the negative. Get it all out. 

Then consider: 

Were there any positive changes that came from the ground shifting beneath you? 

 

What did you learn that you took with you into your next chapter?

Esther Perel

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

Getty Images/iStockphoto

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