Has anyone seen my libido?

Or how it feels like the last thing on the list when you get to menopause

I used to do a podcast all about sex and relationships called ‘The Hotbed’. To be brutally honest I often felt like a fraud as I’ve never been a particularly sexual person. It’s partly to do with confidence (I have never felt good about my body). It’s also tiredness and feeling ground down by life. I rarely have the energy to muster up anything that could be described as sexual.

I’ve tried. In fact most of my late teens and throughout my twenties were spent trying to appear sexy. I went to clubs wearing see through tops and platform shoes. I laughed at men’s jokes and ignored their bad breath. I developed an expression that said I was fascinated in them but really I was just working out when I could hopefully get home. I wanted sex to be over quickly so I could tidy up and make a cup of tea. I sometimes felt like it was something to be endured as payment for a few drinks and a lift home.

I then hung up those platforms and decided that sexy was not quite suitable for me. It was too exhausting.

Having kids makes a huge difference as you get a lot of touching (non sexual of course) but it can make you feel like you just don’t want to be touched by anyone anymore. When my kids were babies I used to hate even the cat sitting on my lap. I wanted to be alone physically and a cat pawing up and down on my knees was often the last straw.

I love the film ‘Sleeper’ directed by Woody Allen where in the future he envisages something called the ‘Orgasmatron’ and you step into it and basically shut the door and 3 seconds later you come out and you’re all done. I don’t want to fanny around with candles or massage oils or sexy music or dressing up.

Like many eighties teens, when I was growing up, the onus was always on pleasing men. The magazines were full of tips on how to keep a boyfriend, and the main narrative was that you were lucky if you had a boyfriend in the first place (even if they were a total dork with spots). I dated boys who were often not appropriate and boys I didn’t even like. They were boring. Or they ate onions before we went to the movies together. I accepted it. Men smelt and were boring but that was part of life.

I then hooked up with an older man when I was in my late teens and in retrospect continued with the idea that this should be about pleasing him. I didn’t voice my needs and sometimes I enjoyed sex and other times I didn’t. I felt detached. Like I was something for him to enjoy and often just wanted it to be over.

I’ve had friends that I’ve envied because they are so confident when it comes to what they want. They have spent time thinking about it, they’ve put their own needs first and if they see someone or something they want then they claim it.

‘I like this kind of person and this kind of position and it has to be this, this and this.’

I’ve been called a prude/stuck up/cold in the past but it isn’t that. It’s just a lack of agency, coupled with a poor body image, and growing up in a culture that never prioritised my needs…is it too late to start again?

Now in menopause and I have zero desire. I have become invisible to the opposite sex. So it’s kind of okay that I don’t desire people. I get on the bus and hunker down, my scarf wrapped around my chin, and nobody gives me a glance unless they are very old (usually my dad’s age), and this confirms to me that sex is finished now. Some of this is of course hormonal and will pass. Whilst I was writing the Hotbed book with Lisa Williams I did a lot of research into different techniques, different styles, different approaches. I have almost too much knowledge. So it’s not about learning or educating.

It’s just this overwhelming sense of underwhelm.

And my partner? Well I regret that he is stuck with someone who doesn’t really want to do it anymore. It can feel like a giant elephant in the room (one wearing sexy underwear and gyrating up against a pole). We talk about it sometimes but there isn’t really a straightforward solution (aside with choosing other partners but we love each other so it doesn’t feel right?) I also don’t fancy other people

Will I regret this lack of sex when I’m on my deathbed? I don’t think so. In a parallel universe is a girl who grew into a woman and believed in her right to have sex in the way she wanted to. She was confident and expressed her desires. She never had sex to please others. I am going to be this girl in my next life. She is going to be free, inhibited and pleasure seeking at all times.

I will tell you about that experience sometime.