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You know what’s one of the most heartbreaking dynamics I see in my practice? It’s when one partner—usually the wife, but not always—has been self-betraying sexually for years, saying yes when she means no, having sex she doesn’t want to have, trying so hard to be “enough” for her husband… and he’s still not satisfied.

Can you imagine how devastating that is? You’re already betraying yourself. You’re already doing something you don’t want to do. You’re already sacrificing your own desires and comfort. And it’s still not enough.

The wife feels like a failure. She’s tried everything. She’s had sex when she didn’t want to. She’s done things that made her uncomfortable. She’s pushed through when her body was saying no. And her husband is still unhappy, still wanting more, still dissatisfied. So she’s left thinking, “What’s wrong with me? I’ve given everything and it’s not enough. I’ll never be enough.”

And here’s what makes it even more confusing and devastating for her: He’s having an orgasm. Every single time. From her perspective, he’s getting exactly what he came for. The sex is “working” in that sense. He’s getting physical satisfaction. So why isn’t he satisfied? Why does he still want more? It doesn’t make any sense to her. She thinks, “You’re literally getting off every time. What more could you possibly want? What more could I possibly give?”

Let me paint you a picture of what this looks like in real life.

Heather and Grant have been married for twelve years. For the first eight years, Heather had sex with Grant about three times a week. She rarely wanted to, but she knew it was “important to the marriage.” She’d psych herself up, put on a good show, make the right noises, and get it over with. Grant would have an orgasm, she’d feel relieved it was done, and they’d go to sleep.

But Grant wasn’t happy. He’d say things like, “You don’t seem into it,” or “I wish you wanted me more,” or “Can we try to connect more during sex?” or “I don’t feel truly desired by you.” Heather would feel absolutely crushed. She was already doing something she didn’t want to do! And he was having an orgasm every single time—clearly it was working, clearly he was getting physical satisfaction. What more could she possibly give?

She’d think, “You’re literally finishing. You’re getting your release. I don’t understand what you want from me.” So she’d try harder—more frequency, more variety, more performance. She’d try new positions, new lingerie, more enthusiasm. But it never felt like enough. He’d still make comments about wanting more connection, about wishing she wanted him more. And she’d feel like a complete failure.

And here’s what made it even more confusing for Grant: Heather was often having orgasms too. Her body would respond even when she was disconnected, even when she didn’t want to be there. So from his perspective, they were both getting off. They both seemed to be physically satisfied. Everything appeared to be working. Why would there be a problem? This made it nearly impossible for him to recognize what was actually wrong—because all the physical indicators said things were fine.

Two years ago, Heather hit a wall. She couldn’t do it anymore. The thought of having sex one more time when she didn’t want to felt unbearable. The performance, the pretending, the violation of herself—she just couldn’t.

So she told Grant, “I can’t keep doing this.”

For Grant, this felt like a crisis. Their sex life dropped to almost nothing. He felt rejected, frustrated, confused. He’d been having orgasms all along—from his perspective, things were working. Yes, he wished there was more connection, but he thought the solution was more sex, not less. So when Heather shut down sexually, he panicked.

For Heather, it was both terrifying and a relief. Terrifying because what if this destroyed their marriage? What if he left her? What if she’d just made everything worse? But also—relief. Relief that she didn’t have to force herself anymore. Relief that she could finally be honest. Relief that the exhausting performance was over.

That’s where so many couples find themselves—stuck in this painful paradox where she’s been self-betraying for years, he’s been having orgasms all along, and somehow it’s still not enough. And now they’re at a crisis point where everything has stopped.

Why Was She Self-Betraying in the First Place?

Before we go any further, we need to address something important: Why was Heather self-betraying in the first place? Why do so many wives force themselves to have sex they don’t want?

Because Heather wasn’t making these choices in a vacuum. She had reasons—often really understandable, even noble reasons—for saying yes when she meant no.

Maybe she was taught that sex is her wifely duty. That part of being a good wife means being sexually available to her husband. That his sexual desires are “needs” that she’s responsible for meeting. Many of us absorbed these messages from our culture, our religion, our families, even if they were never explicitly stated.

Maybe she was afraid of what would happen if she said no. Would he be angry? Would he pull away emotionally? Would he leave her? Would he cheat? Would he resent her? Would the marriage fall apart? These fears aren’t irrational—many women have been taught that a man’s sexual satisfaction is critical to the survival of the marriage. And many women have experienced exactly these reactions. They’ve had husbands who did get angry, who did pull away, who did make them feel guilty or selfish or broken for not wanting sex. So the fear isn’t just hypothetical—it’s often based on real patterns in their marriage.

Maybe she thought that if she just did it enough, eventually she’d want it. That her desire would kick in if she kept showing up. That she needed to prime the pump, so to speak. This advice gets given to women constantly—”just do it and you’ll get into it.” Now, this is different from responsive desire, where you might be neutral about sex but genuinely willing, and then desire develops through the experience because you feel safe and connected. That’s legitimate. But what we’re talking about here is forcing yourself to have sex you actively don’t want, hoping that if you fake it enough, real desire will magically appear. It doesn’t work that way.

Maybe she was trying to avoid conflict. Saying no leads to uncomfortable conversations, tension, guilt trips, or pressure. Saying yes—even when you don’t want to—you think it keeps the peace. But it doesn’t create peace inside of you when you self-betray. It’s exhausting to constantly negotiate your boundaries, especially when you’re made to feel selfish or frigid for having them.

Maybe she genuinely loves her husband and wants him to be happy. She sees how much this matters to him, and she thinks, “I can do this for him. This is what love looks like—sacrifice and putting his desires first.”

Now, some women can do this without building resentment. For some women, having sex they’re not particularly interested in doesn’t feel like a violation or betrayal of self. But for many women—like Heather—it does. It creates a deep wound. And if you’re in that second category, continuing to force yourself doesn’t make you a better wife. It makes you resentful, disconnected, and eventually unable to continue.

So she says yes. Over and over and over. She forces herself. She disconnects from her body. She performs. She self-betrays.

And she does it thinking she’s doing the right thing. She’s trying to be a good wife. She’s trying to protect her marriage. She’s trying to make him happy.

But here’s the tragedy: All of that self-betrayal—all of that sacrifice and forcing herself and ignoring her own body—it doesn’t work. It doesn’t create the connection he’s craving. It doesn’t make him satisfied. It doesn’t protect the marriage. Instead, it creates resentment in her and leaves him feeling unfulfilled, even as he’s having orgasms every single time.

The Quantity vs. Quality Confusion

Here’s where so many couples get stuck: The husband thinks it’s a quantity problem. “If we just had sex more often, I’d feel satisfied.”

The wife doesn’t think it’s about quantity at all – she’s already giving more than she wants to. She might think it’s a quality problem – that she’s not good enough at sex, not enthusiastic enough, not doing the right things. Or she just thinks she’s broken, that something is fundamentally wrong with her that makes her inadequate no matter what she does.

Both of them are missing the real issue. Frequency isn’t the problem. Her “performance” isn’t the problem. The problem is that there’s no genuine connection. And orgasm isn’t the same thing as satisfaction.

This is really confusing for a lot of wives because many of us were taught that men just want orgasms. That sex for men is about physical release. So if he’s getting that release, mission accomplished, right?

But that’s not how it actually works. Yes, he might be having an orgasm. But he’s not feeling desired. He’s not feeling connected. He’s not experiencing intimacy. And those things matter just as much—often more—than the physical release, even if they don’t know it.

Would you rather have dinner with someone seven nights a week where they’re on their phone the whole time, clearly would rather be anywhere else, and is just going through the motions? Or would you rather have dinner with them once a week where you’re both fully present, engaged, laughing, making eye contact, really with each other?

The same is true for sex. Regular sex where your partner is self-betraying, disconnected, and just waiting for it to be over? That’s not actually satisfying. It might provide a physical release, but it doesn’t feed the deeper hunger for connection, for being desired, for mutual pleasure and intimacy.

One really connected sexual experience where both people are fully present and wanting to be there is infinitely more satisfying than a whole month of duty sex—even if every instance of that duty sex ends in orgasm.

Why This Dynamic Is So Painful

This dynamic creates pain for both partners in different ways.

For the partner who’s self-betraying, there’s this profound sense of “I’m giving everything and it’s still not enough. I’ll never be enough. No matter what I do, it won’t satisfy them.” There’s resentment that builds up—rightfully so. “I’m doing this thing I don’t even want to do, sacrificing my own comfort and desires, you’re literally getting off every single time, and you’re STILL not happy? What more do you want from me?”

The orgasm paradox makes it even more painful. From her perspective, the evidence says he’s satisfied—he’s climaxing, he seems to enjoy it in the moment, his body is responding. But then afterward, or days later, he’s asking for more or complaining about the lack of connection. It feels crazy-making. Like the facts don’t match what he’s claiming.

She might feel used. She might feel like her body is just a means to an end. She might feel completely invisible—like he doesn’t even care whether she’s present or enjoying it, he just wants access to her body. And the fact that he’s physically satisfied (having an orgasm) but emotionally dissatisfied makes her feel crazy. Like the evidence says one thing but he’s claiming another.

And that resentment can last for years. Even after the dynamic changes, that hurt doesn’t just evaporate. She remembers all those times she self-betrayed, all those times she felt like a failure, all those times she wasn’t enough despite doing everything “right.”

For the partner who’s “never satisfied,” there are really two versions of this.

Some husbands have no awareness that something deeper is wrong. They might think, “Sex is good. I’m having orgasms. I just wish we had it more often.” They’re focused on frequency, on quantity. They don’t feel guilty or broken – they just feel like they have a normal, healthy desire for more sex. From his wife’s perspective, he’s getting exactly what he wants (orgasms) and still asking for more. It makes no sense to her.

And sometimes his confusion is compounded by the fact that she’s having orgasms too. Women can absolutely have physical orgasms while being completely disconnected, while self-betraying, while not wanting to be there. The body can respond even when the mind and heart aren’t engaged. So he sees her climaxing and thinks, “We’re both getting off. This is working. I just wish we did it more often.” He has no idea she’s forcing herself or that her orgasm doesn’t mean she wanted to be there. Physical response is not the same as genuine desire or emotional presence.

Other husbands—like Grant—CAN articulate that something is missing. They say things like “I want more connection” or “I wish you desired me more” or “I want intimacy, not just sex.” They’re using the right words. But here’s what they’re not understanding: You can’t get genuine connection and desire from duty sex. So they’re still accepting the duty sex, still pursuing their wife when she’s clearly not interested, and simultaneously complaining that there’s no connection. They think duty sex is better than no sex. But it isn’t. Because duty sex prevents the possibility of genuine desire. It reinforces the dynamic they’re unhappy with. They think maybe if they have sex more often, or try new positions, or she’s more enthusiastic, or they add more variety—that will somehow create the connection they’re craving.

Both groups are missing the same fundamental insight: Connection can’t be manufactured through frequency or variety or performance. Genuine desire can’t be coaxed out of someone who’s self-betraying. And for her, both scenarios are equally devastating and confusing – whether he’s asking for “more sex” or “more connection,” she’s already forcing herself and it’s still not enough.

The Deep Well of Resentment

Let’s talk more about her resentment, because this is huge and it often gets glossed over.

When a woman has spent years self-betraying sexually, trying to be enough, and still being met with dissatisfaction—that creates a wound that runs deep. Really deep.

Think about what she’s carried: Every time she said yes when she meant no. Every time she psyched herself up to have sex she didn’t want. Every time she performed and faked enthusiasm. Every time she felt used or invisible or like a means to an end. Every time she pushed through discomfort or pain or just complete disconnection from her own body.

She did all of that. She sacrificed herself over and over and over again. And it still wasn’t enough.

That is devastating.

And then—years later—he comes to her and says, “Actually, I realize now it wasn’t about quantity. It was about quality. I wanted connection and intimacy.”

Do you know what that can feel like to her? It can feel like he’s saying, “All that suffering you did? All that self-betrayal? All those years of trying so hard? That was the wrong thing. You were doing it wrong the whole time.”

She might think: “I gave you EVERYTHING. I ignored my own body, my own desires, my own boundaries. I made myself available in every way I knew how. You were having orgasms. You were physically satisfied. And now you’re telling me it was the wrong kind of available? That I should have been doing something different all along?”

It’s not just that she’s angry. It’s that she feels completely unrecognized. Like all that sacrifice—which was real and costly and painful—doesn’t even count. Like it’s invisible.

And here’s the part that really stings: He’s changing the rules on her.

For years, the game was about frequency. About being available. About making sure he had orgasms. She played that game even though it cost her deeply. And now he’s saying, “Oh, actually, that’s not the game we’re playing anymore. Now it’s about connection and quality.”

She might feel like screaming, “You can’t just change the rules! I didn’t sign up for this! I did what you asked and it still wasn’t enough and now you want something different?!”

And that makes perfect sense. That’s a completely understandable response.

There’s also this painful irony: When she was self-betraying and having duty sex, she at least knew what was expected of her. It was awful, but it was clear. Now he’s saying he wants her to be present, to be authentic, to only have sex when she genuinely wants it—but she’s so hurt and resentful that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever want sex with him again.

She might think, “You wanted me to be ‘enough’ when I was giving everything I had. Now you want me to want you? After years of not recognizing what I was sacrificing? After years of it never being enough? Good luck with that.”

The resentment can show up in so many ways. She brings up old hurts frequently, reminding him of all the times she wasn’t enough. She has zero trust that anything will actually be different this time. She feels vindicated when he’s unhappy now—like, “See? You’re STILL not satisfied. It was never about what I was doing, it’s about you.” She shuts down sexually because why bother? Nothing she did was ever enough anyway. She feels bitter when he tries to be affectionate or initiate intimacy. She can barely hear his attempts at repair because the hurt is so loud.

And here’s what’s really important to understand: All of that makes sense. Her resentment is not irrational or excessive or something she needs to just “get over.” It’s a legitimate response to years of pain.

She gave and gave and gave from an empty cup. She betrayed herself repeatedly. She felt like a failure despite doing everything she thought he wanted. And nobody acknowledged the cost of all that until recently—if at all.

Of course she’s resentful. Of course she’s hurt. Of course she doesn’t trust that anything will be different now.

Working Through the Resentment

So what do you do with all that resentment?

First, if you’re the husband: You cannot rush this. You cannot expect her to just move on because you’ve had a realization. You cannot get frustrated that she’s “stuck in the past” or “won’t let it go.”

She needs to be angry. She needs to grieve. She needs to be heard and seen and validated in her pain. That process takes as long as it takes.

Your job is to hold space for her resentment without getting defensive. To acknowledge the hurt you caused—even if you didn’t understand what you were doing at the time. To recognize that your growth doesn’t erase her pain.

And honestly? You might need to hear about her hurt over and over again. Not because she’s trying to punish you, but because years of pain don’t get processed in one conversation. She might need to tell you ten times or fifty times or a hundred times how much it hurt to never be enough. And your job is to listen and validate every single time.

You also need to recognize that her resentment might have really valid ongoing components. It’s not just about the past. If you’re still doing things that reinforce her feeling of “never being enough”—even in small ways—that needs to stop. Are you still keeping score? Are you still sighing or seeming disappointed when she’s not interested in sex? Are you still making comments that imply she’s not meeting your expectations? Because all of that feeds her resentment.

Second, if you’re the wife carrying this resentment: You deserve to be angry. You deserve to grieve. You deserve to have your pain acknowledged and honored.

And also—because I care about you—at some point, you get to decide whether you want to keep carrying this resentment or whether you want to work through it and see if something new is possible.

That doesn’t mean forgetting what happened. It doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean excusing his behavior or minimizing your pain.

But it does mean asking yourself: Do I want to stay in this hurt? Or do I want to see if healing is possible?

Some marriages don’t survive this. The resentment is too deep, the hurt is too great, the trust is too broken. And that’s okay. You’re not obligated to forgive or repair or try again.

But if you do want to try to move forward, you get to do that too. You get to be cautiously hopeful. You get to test whether he really means it when he says he wants something different. You get to set boundaries and expectations. You get to move slowly.

And you get to explore what YOU actually want sexually—maybe for the first time ever. Not what he wants. Not what you think you’re supposed to want. But what genuinely feels good and connecting and pleasurable to you.

The resentment doesn’t disappear overnight. But it can soften over time if there’s genuine repair, genuine change, genuine recognition of your pain.

Sometimes it helps to work with a coach or therapist—someone who can help you both navigate this terrain. Someone who can help him understand the depth of your hurt and help you process your resentment in healthy ways.

So what happened with Grant and Heather? How did they move from that crisis point to something different?

Grant started looking for answers. He read books, listened to podcasts, took courses, joined Facebook groups about improving sexual intimacy. At first, he was looking for how to fix things—and what he really meant was how to fix Heather. How to get her to want sex again. How to solve this problem so they could go back to having sex regularly.

But the more he learned, the more uncomfortable insights he encountered. He started to realize that this wasn’t about Heather being broken. This wasn’t about her libido being the problem. This was about him accepting—and even expecting—sex from someone who didn’t want to be there.

He learned that you can’t get connection from duty sex. That orgasm isn’t the same as satisfaction. That frequency and variety don’t create intimacy. That what he’d been craving all along wasn’t more sex—it was to be genuinely wanted.

And he started to understand something really uncomfortable: He had been part of the problem. Maybe even the bigger part.

So he started doing things differently. When Heather would offer sex out of obligation or guilt, he’d say, “I don’t want you to have sex with me unless you actually want to. I know that might mean we don’t have sex for a while, and that’s okay. I’d rather wait for you to genuinely want it than have you force yourself.”

At first, Heather didn’t believe him. She thought it was a test or a manipulation. But Grant was consistent. When she’d initiate out of guilt, he’d gently decline. He’d say, “I appreciate the offer, but I can tell you’re not really into this. I don’t want duty sex anymore.”

That was terrifying for Grant. He had no idea how long it would be before Heather wanted sex again. Months? Years? Never? But he also knew that continuing to accept duty sex wasn’t working for either of them.

For Heather, this was shocking. After years of forcing herself, suddenly he was saying no? It was confusing and disorienting. Part of her felt relieved—finally, the pressure was off. Part of her felt scared—what if he was pulling away? What if this meant he didn’t want her anymore? And part of her felt angry—where was this understanding when she was destroying herself trying to be enough?

But slowly, something shifted. Without the pressure and obligation, Heather started to notice when she actually felt desire. Small moments where she looked at Grant and felt a spark. Times when she wanted physical closeness that wasn’t about performing or producing an orgasm for him. She started exploring what her own sexuality might look like if it wasn’t about meeting his expectations.

Now, I want to be clear: Not every woman will have this experience. Some women who stop self-betraying will discover that they have little to no interest in developing their sexuality—at least not right now, or maybe not with their current partner, or maybe not at all. And that’s okay. That’s a valid outcome too. Stopping self-betrayal doesn’t guarantee that desire will emerge. For some women, the damage is too deep, or their interest in sexuality is genuinely low, or they need to focus on healing before they can even think about exploring desire. This is Heather’s story, but it’s not the only possible story.

Grant also worked on accepting that having an orgasm didn’t mean he was satisfied. He could get off physically while missing the deeper connection he craved. He stopped keeping score of how often they had sex. He stopped sighing or seeming disappointed when she wasn’t interested. He focused on creating emotional connection, on being present, on making her feel safe rather than pressured.

This process took time. Months. Over a year. There were setbacks and arguments and moments when both of them wondered if they’d ever figure it out.

But here’s where they are now: They have sex maybe once or twice a month. But when they do, Heather actually wants it. She’s present. She’s engaged. They’re both there by choice, not obligation. And Grant says he’s more sexually satisfied now than he ever was when they were having sex three times a week and Heather was self-betraying.

Because quality really does matter more than quantity. Connection really is more satisfying than frequency. And being genuinely wanted—even occasionally—is infinitely better than being accommodated regularly.

The Shift: Awareness Is the First Step

So how do couples get out of this painful pattern?

Awareness is always a good first step. For the husband, that means becoming aware that you can’t get connection from duty sex. That accepting sex from someone who’s self-betraying isn’t actually giving you what you want. That frequency and variety won’t create the intimacy you’re craving. That you’ve been part of the problem, not just a victim of it.

For the wife, awareness might mean recognizing that your self-betrayal isn’t helping either of you. That saying yes when you mean no doesn’t protect the marriage—it damages it. That your resentment is valid and real and needs to be acknowledged.

But awareness alone doesn’t fix anything. Awareness without action just creates more pain. So what comes next?

The Repair

If you’re the husband in this dynamic, repair is essential. You can’t just say, “Well, I realize now it was about quality not quantity!” and expect your wife to be like, “Great! Let’s have connected sex now!”

She’s hurt. She’s resentful. She’s exhausted. She feels like she was never enough. And that needs to be acknowledged and honored.

Here’s what repair might sound like:

“I know that for many years, you self-betrayed and gave me sex, and I wasn’t satisfied. I was always wanting more. I thought it was about quantity – that if we just had sex more often, that would fix it. And I know from your perspective, I was having an orgasm every time, so it must have seemed insane that I was still unhappy. Like, what more could I possibly want? From where you were standing, the evidence said I was satisfied—I was climaxing, I seemed to enjoy it in the moment. But I wasn’t satisfied, and I didn’t understand why.

“But looking back, I think for me it was really about quality and connection. Sure, I was having an orgasm, but I was missing that connection and intimacy I was actually craving. I didn’t understand the difference then, but I do now. An orgasm isn’t the same thing as feeling satisfied or connected.

“That’s why it felt like it was never enough…because it wasn’t actually giving me what I wanted, even though I didn’t understand that at the time. It makes sense to me why you would feel resentful about that. I’m so sorry that you felt like you weren’t enough even when you were trying to give me what we both thought I wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize the cost of what you were doing. I’m sorry that all that sacrifice and self-betrayal went unacknowledged for so long.

“I want you to know that I feel differently now. It’s not about quantity. It really is about quality. I want that connection and intimacy with you. A really great sexual experience for me is about that—not just about having an orgasm. And if it’s once a week or twice a month, then that is more satisfying to me than daily sex where you are self-betraying and there’s no connection and intimacy there.

“I don’t want you to self-betray. I don’t want duty sex. I want an honest, intimate, connected experience with you, and I’d love to work together to figure out what that can be for both of us. And I understand if you need time to process all of this. I understand if you’re angry and hurt. I’m here to listen.”

Notice what this does:

• It acknowledges her pain and self-sacrifice
• It specifically addresses the orgasm confusion—yes, he was physically satisfied but not emotionally/intimately satisfied
• It takes responsibility for his part in the dynamic
• It acknowledges that her sacrifice went unrecognized
• It validates her resentment as making sense
• It clarifies what he actually wants going forward
• It explicitly says he doesn’t want her to self-betray
• It gives her permission to be angry and hurt
• It invites collaboration rather than demanding anything

This kind of repair won’t fix everything overnight. But it’s a start. It helps her feel seen and understood. It helps her understand that the goalpost didn’t just randomly move—he genuinely didn’t understand what he was actually craving.

But now she has decisions to make. Does this repair feel genuine? Is she willing to try something different? After years of self-betraying, stopping that pattern is terrifying. If she says no when she means no, will he be angry? Will he pull away? Will the marriage fall apart? She might need to test whether things are actually different this time. To see if he really means it when he says he doesn’t want duty sex. To see if he can handle her honesty without making her feel guilty or pressured.

And if she does decide to move forward, she gets to explore what SHE actually wants sexually—maybe for the first time ever. Not what she thinks she’s supposed to want. Not what will make him happy. But what genuinely feels good and connecting and pleasurable to her. That’s a foreign concept for many women who’ve spent years focused solely on meeting their husband’s desires.

So what does that actually look like? What does good sex mean when both people are showing up authentically?

What Does “Good Sex” Actually Mean?

Here are some things that contribute to genuinely good sex:

• Both people actually want to be there
• Both people are present in their bodies
• There’s genuine desire (not just willingness to perform)
• There’s playfulness and curiosity
• There’s emotional safety
• You feel desired by your partner (not just tolerated or accommodated)
• You can be authentic and vulnerable
• There’s mutual pleasure (not just one person getting off while the other endures)
• You feel connected during and after

Notice that frequency isn’t on that list. And orgasm, while nice, isn’t the ultimate goal either. You can have sex once a month that hits all these marks and feel incredibly satisfied. Or you can have sex daily that ends in orgasm every time and still feel empty.

That’s the power of quality over quantity.

Moving Forward Together

If you’re in this dynamic, here’s what needs to happen:

For the husband: Stop asking for more. Start asking for better. Be honest about what you’re actually craving—probably connection, presence, feeling desired. Recognize that orgasm and satisfaction aren’t the same thing. You can have an orgasm and still feel empty if there’s no genuine connection. Let go of scorekeeping and frequency goals. Focus on creating safety and connection. Do the work to understand yourself and what you actually want. And please, acknowledge and repair the pain your wife has experienced from years of feeling like she was never enough—even though you were having orgasms every single time. Be patient with her resentment. Don’t rush her healing. And most importantly: Stop accepting duty sex. When you sense she’s not really into it, say so. Tell her you don’t want her to force herself. Even if it means waiting a long time before she’s ready again.

For the wife: Know that you don’t have to self-betray anymore. You don’t have to have sex you don’t want. If he’s genuinely shifting from “I want more sex” to “I want connected sex,” that’s actually an invitation to show up more authentically, not less. You get to explore what YOU actually want sexually. You get to be present in your body. You get to say no when you mean no and yes when you mean yes. Your resentment is valid, and it’s also worth working through so it doesn’t poison your future. You get to decide if you want to try to heal this or not—both choices are okay.

For both of you: This is a chance to build something new. To discover what sex can be when it’s not about obligation or frequency or just physical release. To create genuine intimacy and connection. To learn what you each actually want and find where that overlaps.

It won’t happen overnight. There’s hurt to heal. There are new patterns to build. There’s communication to develop. There’s resentment to process. There’s trust to rebuild.

But imagine what it would be like to have sex where you both actually want to be there. Where you’re both present and connected. Where you feel desired and desiring. Where frequency doesn’t matter because the quality is so satisfying. Where past hurt has been acknowledged and repaired.

That’s what’s possible on the other side of this painful dynamic.

Alright my friends, that’s all I have for you today. Remember, love is a journey, not a destination. Stay committed, stay passionate, and stay connected. I’ll see you next week…ba-bye.