SURVIVING SEXLESS LIVING: STRATEGIES FOR INTIMACY

I love sex. Blessed with a high libido and an ability to orgasm pretty easily, I often have a higher sex drive than my partners. My mother told me it was hereditary; that she and my aunts had realized the same thing about themselves when they were young. Apparently the women are horny in my family. I remember when I thought I could never go long without sex.

My definition of sex at the time was really "penetrative sex." I had not learned the nuances of love making yet. I only knew that I seemed to enjoy sex more than my friends did. Many of them, I could tell, were trading sex for love. But when I engaged in sexual relations, it was for my own selfish pleasure.

Usually, my sexual attraction to partners would wane after a few months or years with them. I assumed it was a normal thing due to the familiarity of being with the same partner over and over again. You get to know their style and their moves. Their touch doesn't feel as titillating as it used to. Often, encounters follow the exact same pattern with little, if any, straying from the script.

Even though my attraction waned for my partners, I was still horny and loyal. My lovers never complained about lack of effort in the bedroom. I assumed that I would never lose interest in sex. However, that is precisely what happened when sex became a contentious issue in one of my long-term relationships.

The first time we had an argument about it, I had worked for 11 hours at the strip club and I was exhausted. It was 2 AM. My lover wanted sex but I was honestly all sexed out from "being sexy" at work all day. I was working stage and between shows I was doing private dances. Instead of understanding, my partner got angry. He accused me of being sexy for "the men" and not for him.

All I wanted to do was sleep, but he wouldn't let it go. At 3:30 AM, I relented and let him fuck me. I was disgusted, angry, tired and offended. I laid there lifelessly, rolling my eyes, while he did his thing. When he was done, I finally got to go to sleep. We had a few more arguments like that and I lost all interest in sex with my partner. I also lost all respect for him. How could he enjoy having sex with me when I explicitly told him I didn't want to do it? I didn't feel raped. I felt extremely TURNED OFF. I couldn't get a lady boner for him if I tried.

Prior to the sex issues, our relationship had been quite good. I thought he would be the father of my children one day. Hanging onto what we had, I stayed with him for a long time after the sex problems began. However, my sexual attraction to him never returned. I tried things like asking him if we could take a break from sex for six months. I thought if he didn't put any pressure on me that I could re-establish the respect and affection I'd had for him previously.

Unfortunately, he couldn't follow through on the plan. I continued to have "duty sex" with him in an attempt to save our relationship. But my horniness for him was a distant memory. When I began to feel tempted by other men, I knew I had to break up with him.

Sex was wonderful again once I left that relationship. My libido came back as strong as ever. It stayed that way, even after giving birth to my babies. I was told that it was typical for new mothers to lose their sex drive. But it didn't happen to me. My sex drive stayed healthy until I suffered a severe, disabling pharmaceutical injury in 2008.

That was the beginning of a whole new set of sex issues I'd never anticipated. When every moment of every day is a struggle to endure, sex becomes much less important. I wanted to be touched tenderly but the pain in my body and lack of connecting with my partner made sex the last thing I wanted to do. Knowing I was too sick to want or have sex, my partner stopped touching me altogether.

Over the next several years, I went through periods of being completely disabled and periods of feeling generally well. The pharmaceutical injury had destroyed my large intestine. The more medications I was given to manage my symptoms, the more damaged my gut became.

When I had an emergency surgery to save my life in 2012, they removed 75% of my large intestine. Three weeks later, I had a hernia surgery while I was still in the hospital recovering from the first surgery. Four months after that, I had an ostomy reversal (re-anastomosis) surgery. And about four months after that, I began to develop painful arthritis in all of the joints of my body. I now believe it was the antibiotics that caused the arthritis.

I spent four years without having sex; without being touched tenderly or otherwise. I didn't even miss sex. I was not bonded with my partner and I was sick as fuck. I wondered if I would ever have a normal life again. Sex was the last thing on my mind. I told my partner to go to a sex worker if he wanted. "Just don't tell me, " I said. I didn't know if it would hurt me and I was too fragile to find out. That was my first experience with sexless living.

I still used my vibrator. I still had orgasms whenever possible. I considered it part of my self-care, reasoning that orgasms would help me heal because they release all those feel-good hormones. But I did not have any kind of intimacy with my partner. I longed to be touched with love by someone, but I didn't know that I was acutely suffering from a real-life disorder called "touch starvation" until I left that partner and got well enough to date again.

I was overcome with emotion the first time someone touched me with tenderness. I became ravenous to make love every day; hoping to fill the emptiness that I hadn't known existed. Each time our bodies came together, I wept with relief. I hadn't realized how the lack of touch had impacted me. It was an epiphany to me that touch is so important.

I thought back to my illness and how different my experience of it might have been if my partner had been capable of showing me tenderness and offered loving touch during those years of anguish and pain. I realized that EVERYTHING would have been different. My relationship with my partner. My experience of my illness. My willingness to be alive. Touch-starvation had made me feel invisible and unloved. My partner hadn't intended to traumatize me. He was traumatized himself by an upbringing of emotional abuse. But I was extremely traumatized nonetheless.

When I started giving massages at the strip club to supplement my Disability Benefits as a single mom, I saw how touch starvation was impacting people in my community. The mixture of alcohol and a tender touch caused many of my customers to literally break down crying. I could relate. I hugged them hard and gave them the best love energy massages I could muster. I realized that people NEED to be touched. It wasn't sex that I had been after all those years when I was young. Sex was simply the only way I knew how to satisfy my need to be touched.

In my work as an intimacy provider, I've met an alarming number of men who say they live in sexless marriages. Most of their wives told them it's because menopause has taken their sex drive. Others are sick, like I was, and their husbands don't want to put pressure on them for obvious reasons. I've often wondered if the "menopausal" women are using it as an excuse. Perhaps, they have lost respect or interest in their partners like I have in the past. If they are telling the truth, then it's even more alarming. I was nearing menopause age myself when I first heard these stories and I didn't want to lose my libido. I reminded myself that my mother still loved sex after menopause. I hoped our hereditary sex drive would save me too.

I was in a relationship with a wonderful partner. I had my intimacy work, which did not involve penetrative sex but did involve tenderness and loving touch. I knew that if I was ever single and needed intimacy, I could hire a provider; just like the people who hired me. I thought that I would never live a sexless life again.

Unfortunately, however, sexless living was still in my future. I began to develop frequent infections in what was left of my large intestine because it had never really recovered from the pharmaceutical injury or all of the other medicalization I endured because of it. After awhile, penetrative sex became a delicate experience. I couldn't take my partner's entire cock and we had to be very careful not to flare up an infection (my vagina being located right beside my diseased colon).

As the disease progressed, it got so that I could not have sex at all. I was devastated because sex had been a way for me to reconnect with my partner whenever we were drifting apart. Penetrative sex always brought us back into energetic harmony. I wondered how I would maintain our connection without the ability to make love the way we did.

I continued to provide massages in my practice and I attempted to stay connected to my partner by engaging in non-penetrative sensual experiences. But I could tell I was losing him. He didn't hold it against me that I couldn't have sex. He worried that he would hurt me even if we merely made out. We grew apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it. All my skills as an intimacy provider weren't enough.

I've learned the hard way that when illness leads to living without sex, it can serve as a devastating blow to the relationship. As an intimacy provider, I am an expert at finding ways to connect without penetrative sex, yet I couldn't force my partner to find connection with me that way. I believe that for many partners of sick loved ones, the loss of sex can be irreparable. A lot of people, maybe even most people, feel the same way I used to about sex. It is the only way they know how to get their need to be touched satisfied. My partner was one of those people.

I'd hoped that we would hold on until I could make love the way we used to. My partner had my blessing to see providers until that time, but he said he didn't feel right seeing them. He said, "If you were withholding sex from me, that would be something else. But this is out of your control." I respected his decision but secretly worried he would have an affair behind my back instead. For reasons completely separate from this issue, our relationship ended before I could have penetrative sex again. I will never know if we could have gained back the connection we once had.

Sometimes sexless living is a choice. We do it because we lost interest in sex or our partner. But sometimes we have no choice. Due to illness or disability, sex is something we have to live without temporarily or permanently. In either case, there are ways to cope with sexless living. If you find yourself in a similar position to any of the scenarios I've described or even a very unique scenario that has led to sexless living, I hope these suggestions will help you feel less alone and more fulfilled.

• Assess if healing is possible or not. If the relationship is broken, is it possible to heal the divide? If you are ill or disabled, is this a temporary situation or permanent. For instance, when I was completely disabled for four years, I had hope that I would find a way to heal and live normally again. I saw my sexless situation as a temporary blip in the whole scheme of my life. If healing is possible, it will comfort you to remind yourself that your sexless living is temporary. If it is permanent, it's time to explore ways to get your intimacy needs met in a different way.

• Intimacy needs can absolutely be satisfied without penetrative sex. This does not mean that our partners who struggle to feel satisfied without penetrative sex are wrong or bad. It simply means that they have not evolved to a point in their lives where they feel they can truly connect without it. Don't take it personally. Let go with love, if necessary.

• If you have lost interest in having sex with your partner but they have expressed a desire to still be intimate, consider ways you would enjoy being intimate with them – ways that do not include penetrative sex or other activities you're not in the mood for can be off the table. Please do not expect your partner to live without tender touch just because you believe that neither of you need it. The fact is, you both do – just maybe not with each other.

• Forgive yourself for whatever you believe you've done or not done to be in this sexless situation. Treat yourself with gentleness and love. Remember that you are a whole, complete, beautiful person whether you can have penetrative sex or not. It is imperative to recognize your own need for tenderness and intimacy no matter who you are or what your circumstances are. Don't punish yourself mentally for circumstances that are out of your control.

• Be aware that the reason intimacy providers exist is because there is a demand for them. If people didn't need to be touched, there wouldn't be so many people purchasing intimacy services. If you are fearful of contacting a sex worker, there are ways you can reduce your anxiety which I will share in another article. The point is that you don't have to live without touch. Even if all you need is a hug or someone to hold your hand for awhile, intimacy providers have done it all. You might be surprised how many clients see providers primarily to engage in meaningful conversations. Whatever you need, there is a provider who can help you. You don't have to suffer alone.

• If your partner is ill and cannot have penetrative sex, please make sure you continue to touch them tenderly. Find out what they like. For instance, I love having my hair pet. I also love to feel my cheek against another person's cheek. Each of us desires different kinds of touch. Just because I like something doesn't mean my partner will like the same thing. Communicate and find a way to touch your partner if they're sick. You have no idea how much you will help them heal if you do.

When I was bedridden, I often fantasized that someone would come and gently rub my feet or simply rest their hand on my arm or leg. Even if you are scared to touch your partner and even if they push you away, please explore ways to express tender touch and love, taking care to be gentle and responsive to your partner's needs.

I had a partner who liked to run his finger down my arm lightly and I couldn't stand it because it tickled. He was trying to show tenderness but I would jump away. I could tell he was hurt by my reaction. Time and again I asked him to keep touching me but not so lightly that it tickled. Weirdly, he never made the effort to remember my preferences. He touched me time and again in this uncomfortable manner. I wanted him to touch me, but not like that. My reaction to his efforts made him touch me less and less. If you want to show your partner you care, listen to them when they tell you what feels good and what doesn't.

The moral of this story is that sexless living is a fact of life for many of us. It may be temporary or permanent. Either way, it can impact our relationships in devastating ways. It can lead to disconnection, touch starvation, shame, insecurity, and breakups. But it doesn't have to be that way. Responsive, caring partners can heal together. Others can find intimacy through friendships or hiring intimacy providers.

The important thing to understand is that you are not alone. When we are young, we think we are invincible. But as life happens, we realize that anything can be taken in an instant; including sex. There is life without sex. There are opportunities for intimacy that don't involve penetrative sex. Touch starvation is not the answer. Tender, loving touch is the cure. You deserve it and so does your partner.

Love Annie xoxo

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