Last summer, something rather unexpected happened to me.
After my libido had quietly bowed out a couple of years earlier, it suddenly made a dramatic return.
Out of nowhere, my thoughts were filled with ideas of sex – with my husband, with the friendly guy who said ‘good morning’ at the station.
All this because of a little daily dab of testosterone cream on my thigh.
If you believe the common narrative that every menopausal woman desperately wants her sexual desire back, you might think, “Lucky you!”
But let me tell you, it was anything but lucky.
By midday, I’d be so wound up that I was convinced the only remedies were a stiff drink and some wild sexual escapades.
Not long ago, this wouldn’t have been an issue.
In fact, my husband James and I once shared a sky-high sex drive, and we were crazy about each other.
In the early days, we’d have sex at least once a day.
Even with young kids, this only dropped to four or five times a week.
But by my early 50s, thanks to menopause, that side of our relationship began to fade and, quite frankly, died off entirely.
When my doctor prescribed testosterone to help with hormone-related brain fog, she mentioned that it might take some time to work, as everyone is different.
To my surprise, my mind felt sharper on day one, even more so on day two, and by day three, my focus became erratic – and erotic.
Suddenly, it felt like I was back to my teenage self, full of unspent sexual energy, which was deeply frustrating, especially with James away on business.
Testosterone isn’t just for men; women produce it too.
During menopause, its levels can drop just like estrogen and progesterone.
Replacing it can improve bone density, muscle mass, mood, and cognitive function.
But as I quickly discovered, it can also reignite sexual desire – which wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.
Looking back, my sexual journey began at 17 with a memorable afternoon when my best friend’s cousin, three years older, introduced me to the pleasures of sex.
That set the tone for my future, where I was never one to shy away from expressing my desires.
When James and I got together in 1994, we were a perfect match in every way, especially in the bedroom.
Sex was a major part of our bond, helping us heal after arguments and keeping us close.
But things changed as we aged.
When I was 49, we went on our first holiday alone together and nearly made it through the whole week without sex.
It was a clear sign that things were different.
By 50, we could easily go a month without intimacy, and neither of us seemed to mind.
It wasn’t something we discussed – we were just comfortable with the way things were.
I have sometimes wondered if James was going through his version of a “male menopause.”
But I never asked, fearing it might make him feel less of a man.
Society is just beginning to talk about female menopause, let alone how it affects men.
And while I sometimes worry that my post-menopausal body might be a turn-off, I don’t let it bother me too much.
The Reality of Our Marriage
Some might think that James is getting satisfaction elsewhere if his sex drive is still active.
But I’m pretty sure I know my husband well enough to dismiss that idea.
If he missed sex, I believe he would have said something by now.
But I’m not tempted to ask in case I’m wrong and have to deal with the emotional fallout.
Redefining Intimacy
Despite what society tells us, going off sex doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.
Our marriage seems stronger now that sex is off the table.
We’re getting to know each other as friends, committed to spending the rest of our lives together, with a deeper connection that doesn’t rely on passion.
A New Chapter
Losing my libido was a blessing in disguise.
It allowed me to appreciate James’s intellect and emotional insight in ways I hadn’t before.
And while I used to be a terrible flirt, I now find joy in more meaningful interactions with men.
Sex was great while it lasted, but I’m okay with moving on.
The Conclusion
There’s a lot of pressure on women to keep sexual love alive in marriage, even if they no longer desire it.
But I believe it’s okay to let go and embrace a new phase of life.
If my libido ever resurfaces, great – but I’m not going to stress about it.
Life is full of changes, and I’m happy with where we are now.
After all, love isn’t just about sex; it’s about growing together, no matter where the journey takes us.
TDPel Media
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