By
Updated 8 years ago,May 25, 2017
Sexless marriage.
Never having an orgasm.
Not wanting to make love to the man I loved.
At age 28, this wasnotthe life I had imagined.
Since an early age, I felt that I was very sexual; sex mattered to me.
Yet, quickly into a loving and committed relationship, my libido took a nosedive.
First went the lubrication, then intercourse turned painful.
Broken, irreparable, unworthy I could not escape the barrage of self-judgments I put myself through.
And I wanted to scream, because nothing about thisfeltnormal.
Adrianna Calvo
Being desired is not enough.
you gotta know how to desire.
Look good to turn him on, and hell give you everything.
In our cultural narrative, being a sexual woman meant being desirable to a man.
It felt normal to focus my energy on my desirability so normal that Id never questioned it.
I paid more attention to how my body looked to him than how it felt.
The truth was: I didnt know how to desire for me.
I had outsourced my desire to him; what was left was a powerlessness I could not shake.
So I started asking myself: What did I want?
What felt good to me?
Could I give myself permission to crave, hunger for sex exactly how I wanted it?
And could I ask for it?
Feeling our desire and being moved by it are fundamental to being a sexual person.
Lets get real here.
Too many times when I held my breath instead of asking my partner to slow down.
What if he thinks I dont like him?
I opted for silence, because it was easier, less anxiety-producing.
And there was a cost.
My body responded accordingly.
It tightened and closed down, leaving me numb and lifeless, frigid even.
Our bodies are smart.
They speak to us first in subtle cues, eventually in shouts and tantrums.
Its our job to listen and speak up on their behalf.
It is especially true with pleasure.
There was no mystery (or medical reasons) behind my missing libido.
I gave without receiving.
I endured what didnt feel good to me.
I emptied out without filling up.
My body and my libido withdrew, because I had abandoned them.
And with the listening came the asking.
Stroke by stroke, my body woke up, becoming more responsive and turned on.
The physical pleasure was not all that I found nourishing.
It was a major turn-on.
Truth is the biggest turn-on.
Standing up on behalf of my truth turned me on: heart racing, juiced up, engorged.
Enlivened, I wanted sex again.
And it turned on people around me partners who equally wanted a real, honest and deeply connected relationship.
If you ever want to try what it feels like, experiment with this.
And notice what happens in your body.
Tread lightly at first and build up to bigger truths slowly.
And remember, this is not about whacking the other person with some big revelation.
Its about you being open and honest about who you are.
Its about intimacy and connection, a conversation between one soul and another.
And from the beginning, thats all I had ever wanted but was afraid to face.
