It’s night, all the day’s duties are ticked off, the children are asleep, the phone is finally silenced and the bedroom should be an oasis of closeness. Yet sometimes a suffocating silence stretches between two bodies. It hides questions, worries, aversions and shame—secret companions of many women who struggle under the covers far more than anyone would think. What are we brave enough to say aloud, and what do we painfully swallow instead?
What troubles women but they don’t say
“I’m not enjoying it.” “It hurts.” “I feel nothing.” Just fragments of sentences left unfinished because we’ve learned to believe that talking about sexual problems falls somewhere between embarrassing and brazen. Yet statistics reveal a shocking reality: more than 40 % of women in Europe experience sexual dysfunction during life and nearly every second woman has gone through a period when sex slipped to last place on her list of priorities. Still we mostly pretend it doesn’t concern us. Why?
Psychologists and sexologists agree on one thing: fear of judgment and of losing a partner’s affection paralyzes us. We’re afraid of being “the complicated one,” afraid that admitting lack of desire or pain would mean “something is wrong with us.” So we stay silent—though the silence hurts both partners.
Aversions and their causes
Sexual aversion sounds like a clinic phrase, yet it hides stacks of real stories. Doctors distinguish several triggers:
- Hormonal turbulence—pregnancy, breastfeeding, menopause or changing contraception can turn libido upside down.
- Chronic stress and exhaustion—an overworked mind switches off “non-essential” functions, and sexuality is first in line.
- Unresolved relationship conflicts—the tension over an unemptied trash bin doesn’t disappear under a pile of pillows; it just turns into “I’ve got a headache.”
- Physical discomfort—from endometriosis and recurring yeast infections to vaginal dryness; all cause pain, and desire doesn’t befriend pain.
- Psychological blocks from the past—trauma, body-shaming or puritan upbringing can bind intimacy in chains of shame.
Aversion rarely stands alone. It’s often joined by guilt, fear the partner will “seek it elsewhere,” and a vicious circle of trying to “just endure it.” The result is paradoxically even less desire. Breaking the circle requires exposing the cause—and there we hit another taboo: shame.
Shame and its impact on intimacy
Shame isn’t just awkwardness in a beach changing booth. In the bedroom it can turn into a silent monster that commands: “Dim the light, turn your back, make sure he sees nothing.” Where does it come from?
The answer lies where culture meets personal experience. Media ideals of perfect bodies push women toward a sense of inadequacy—when we don’t feel attractive, it’s hard to dare to be naked and relaxed. Add an upbringing with phrases like “a proper girl doesn’t talk about that” and we brew a deep inner conflict: we crave passionate sex yet censor our own needs.
Consequences? The body reacts: tense muscles, painful penetration, pelvic-floor cramps, sometimes even vaginismus. The partner doesn’t understand, the woman suffers, intimacy becomes a battlefield of silence. The lack of openness further fuels aversion.
How to find the courage to talk
Talking about the problem is a cliché that works. But how to start when your tongue trembles and your cheeks burn?
- Choose the right time and place. You don’t discuss intimacy in the coffee queue or after a money fight; pick a calm evening without distractions.
- Use I-statements instead of blame. “I would like…”, “I feel uncomfortable when…” sounds different from “You never…” or “You always…”.
- Be specific. Don’t say “I feel nothing.” Describe when and where it hurts, what might help—longer foreplay, lubricant, a different position.
- Invite a professional. A sexologist, pelvic-floor physiotherapist or therapist can offer techniques and treatment Google never heard of.
- Admit the shame. Paradoxically, saying “It’s hard to talk about this, I’m afraid what you’ll think” often breaks the wall.
Courage to speak is a breakthrough, but the journey continues. It may include reading erotic stories together, pelvic-floor exercises, hormonal tests or couples therapy. Remember: female sexuality isn’t a switch but an ecosystem. It needs time, care, communication. When its parts align, aversions fade and shame melts away.
Conclusion: Openness as the path to a better relationship
None of us received a manual for perfect sex. We all have the right to doubts, fear, phases of zero desire and to wonder whether our partner still likes us. The difference between a woman bound by shame and one who enjoys sex often lies not in what they experience but in how they talk about it. Openness isn’t impudence; it’s a healing tool. When we dare to say, “This troubles me, let’s find a solution,” we turn the bedroom from a place of silence into a space of trust. A partner isn’t a mind-reader; when we reveal our inner worlds, he can enter—and together we can turn aversion into new desire, shame into excitement, and silence into dialogue that strengthens both the relationship and each partner’s self-confidence.
