
Do you ever feel frustrated when your spouse doesn’t want sex the same way, or as often, as you do? In this episode, we explore how rigid expectations around sex can lead to disconnection and resentment in marriage. You’ll hear why focusing too much on “your” version of sex can actually block the emotional intimacy you’re craving. Whether it’s about initiation, frequency, or what “real” sex looks like, we’ll unpack how to move from frustration to deeper connection. This is a conversation about letting go of control and rediscovering what sex can truly mean for your relationship.
Show Summary:
Have you ever found yourself frustrated because your spouse doesn’t want sex the way you want it? Or maybe you’ve felt disconnected because your partner doesn’t approach sex the way you do? If so, you’re not alone.
Today, I want to explore an idea that might make you pause for a moment: Sometimes we want “our” form of sex more than we want the connection it can create with our spouse.
This is something I see all the time in the couples I work with. One or both partners have a very specific idea of what sex should look like—how often it should happen, who should initiate, what it should feel like, even what counts as “real” sex. And when their spouse doesn’t align with that vision, it creates frustration, disconnection, and resentment.
I get it. We all have preferences. We all have ways we feel most comfortable expressing our sexuality. But when we get so attached to our way, we miss out on the deeper intimacy that sex can create. So let’s talk about it.
What Does It Mean to Want “Our” Sex More Than Connection?
When I say “our” sex, I mean the way we personally define what good sex should be. Maybe for you, that means sex is spontaneous, passionate, and adventurous. Maybe it means it’s slow, sensual, and deeply emotional. Maybe it means a certain level of frequency or a specific routine that makes you feel safe. Maybe it’s “lights off” or only touching and being touched in certain areas and ways. Whatever it is, it’s totally normal to have preferences! The issue arises when those preferences become the priority rather than connection itself.
Example 1: The Spontaneity-Lover vs. The Planner
I once worked with a couple where the husband loved spontaneous sex. He wanted to feel like his wife wanted him—like she was so into him that she couldn’t help herself. Meanwhile, his wife was more of a planner. She needed mental space and emotional connection first before engaging in sex. When he tried to initiate spontaneously, she often turned him down—not because she didn’t want sex, but because she needed to feel ready for it.
Over time, he started to see rejection as a lack of desire, and she started to feel pressure every time he initiated. The irony? They both deeply wanted connection. But he was prioritizing his version of sex—spontaneity—over the opportunity to build a mutually fulfilling experience and she was prioritizing her ideal of being “ready.” Neither one of them were getting what they wanted.
Example 2: The “It Has to Be Romantic” Mindset
Another woman I coached told me that she only felt comfortable having sex if it was deeply emotional and romantic. She wanted candles, eye contact, slow touches—what she called “real intimacy.” But her husband was more physical and playful—sometimes he just wanted to connect through laughter and fun in bed. To him, connection could come through sexual playfulness, not just deep emotional bonding.
For a long time, she resisted his approach because it didn’t match what she thought “meaningful” sex should look like. But when she started to open up to his version, she realized something: He wasn’t disconnected—he just connected differently.
Why Do We Get Attached to “Our” Form of Sex?
There are a lot of reasons we get fixated on sex being a certain way. Here are a few common ones:
1. Control and Certainty
Sex is vulnerable. And good sex requires us to be open, responsive, and engaged with another person. If we have a specific routine, expectation, or structure around sex, it can make us feel more in control and less exposed.
Example: I worked with a husband who always wanted sex to happen right before bed, in the same way, every time. When his wife suggested trying something different—like a midday quickie or sex in the shower—he resisted. Not because he didn’t like the idea, but because his routine made him feel secure. Changing it felt risky.
2. Personal Validation
Sometimes, our version of sex is tied to how we see ourselves. If we feel like a good lover only when sex looks a certain way, we might resist anything that doesn’t align with that.
Example: A wife I coached told me that she felt like a “bad wife” if she didn’t initiate sex in a way that was highly sensual and seductive. But after having kids, that kind of initiation felt forced. When her husband suggested she just cuddle up to him in bed as an initiation, she struggled—because in her mind, that wasn’t “sexy enough.” She was prioritizing her idea of sex over the connection they could have created in a simpler way.
3. Cultural and Religious Narratives
Many of us grew up with messages about what sex should be. Maybe we were taught that men should always initiate, or that sex should always be passionate and exciting, or that women should be the gatekeepers. These ingrained beliefs can make it hard to see sex as something fluid and adaptable.
Example: I once coached a couple where the wife was taught that sex should always be emotional, and the husband was taught that sex should be frequent and passionate. They were both struggling because neither of them could meet the other’s rigid expectations. When they finally realized they had been taught two different scripts, they were able to let go of those old beliefs and create something new together.
When Sex Becomes About Comfort, Not Connection
Another reason we may cling tightly to “our” form of sex is because it feels safe. Maybe we’re not fully comfortable with ourselves—our bodies, our desires, our sexual expression. Maybe sex still feels foreign, awkward, or even a little shameful. And when that’s the case, we often try to create conditions that feel the most manageable. The most familiar. The most in control.
That might look like only having sex at night, with the lights off, in one specific position. Or needing everything to feel emotionally “just right” before you can be sexual. Or relying on a rigid script—foreplay always looks like this, intercourse follows, it lasts this long, and then we’re done.
Now, here’s the thing: that comfort zone isn’t bad—it may have served you well during certain seasons. But when we use it as a way to avoid discomfort or to bypass deeper intimacy, we have to stop and ask ourselves: Why?
Why am I only willing to have sex in this very specific way?
Why do I resist something different, even when my spouse is trying to connect with me?
Why do I feel anxious or guarded when sex veers outside of what I know?
“I’m not comfortable” might seem like a good answer. And I don’t want to dismiss that—discomfort is real. But it’s not the end of the conversation. Unless something is out of alignment with your values—unless it’s violating your integrity or your safety—then discomfort is actually something to explore, not avoid.
So let yourself get curious.
- Are you uncomfortable because you don’t feel confident in your body?
- Are you carrying shame from your past?
- Were you taught that certain things are “wrong” or “dirty” and haven’t fully questioned those beliefs?
- Are you initiating or saying yes out of obligation, and now trying to control the situation so it feels less vulnerable?
Understanding your why can unlock so much. Because once you identify the root of your discomfort, you can begin to work through it—with compassion and intentionality. And the more comfortable you get with yourself and with sex in general, the less you’ll need to control it. You’ll become more open, more flexible, and ultimately, more connected to both yourself and your spouse.
So if you notice yourself clinging to one way of doing sex, or resisting your partner’s approach, ask yourself: Why? Don’t stop at “I’m not comfortable.” Dig deeper. You just might discover that the connection you’ve been craving is waiting for you on the other side of that discomfort.
Shifting from “My” Sex to “Our” Sex
So, what do we do about this? How do we move away from prioritizing our version of sex and toward using sex as a way to truly connect?
1. Ask Yourself: “What Do I Really Want?”
Take a moment and reflect:
- Do I want a specific kind of sex, or do I want to feel close and connected?
- If my spouse approached sex differently, but I felt deeply connected, would that be enough?
- Am I willing to expand my idea of what sex can be?
2. Get Curious About Your Spouse’s Experience
Instead of assuming your way is the only way, ask your spouse:
- How do you feel most connected during sex?
- What does meaningful sex look like for you?
- Is there anything about our current sex life that feels limiting to you?
3. Communicate and Experiment
- Instead of assuming sex has to look a certain way, talk about it!
- Try meeting each other halfway. Maybe your spouse craves more emotional connection before sex, while you want more playfulness and spontaneity. How can you create a sexual dynamic that honors both?
4. Embrace Flexibility
Great sex in marriage is about adaptability. Some seasons will be filled with passionate, exciting sex. Others will be slower, more intentional, and deeply intimate.
Instead of rigid expectations, think about sex as a journey—one that evolves and changes as you and your spouse do.
Final Thoughts
If you find yourself longing for sex but constantly feeling unsatisfied, ask yourself: Am I really longing for connection? Or am I longing for my specific version of sex?
When we let go of rigid expectations and open ourselves to collaborative sex—sex that is co-created, rather than dictated—we open the door to deeper intimacy, greater satisfaction, and a more fulfilling marriage.
So this week, I encourage you to reflect on what sex means to you and your spouse. Be willing to expand, to listen, and to create a sexual relationship that isn’t just about your kind of sex—but about your marriage’s kind of sex.
Remember, love is a journey, not a destination. Stay committed, stay passionate, and stay connected. Goodbye for now.