What Does It Mean to Want Sex?

Please note: This piece doesn’t discuss my personal sex life in lurid detail, but it does discuss it. Family members and others who don’t want to read that, please don’t. This piece was originally published on the Blowfish Blog.

What does it mean to “want” sex?

Perv panel
There was a letter to the Perv Panel advice columnists at Carnal Nation that’s shoved this question into my mind. In the Lesbian Bed Death letter, the author says that, after four years in a committed relationship, neither she nor her partner has any real interest in sex anymore. In one sentence, she says they’re content; in the next sentence, she says she feels like they should do something about it.

The advice from the Perv Panel was fine, as far as it went. But I think there’s a very important core concept here that none of the advisors really got into.

It’s this:

There is more than one way to “want” sex.

Master of desire
When we talk about “wanting” sex, we tend to mean the immediate animal urge. The hard cock or clit. The overpowering physical desire to get busy, now.

But there are other ways of “wanting” sex. You can want the effect sex has on your life, and on your relationship. You can want the closeness and intimacy it gives you with your partner. You can want the affirmation it gives, the feeling of being desired and valued. You can want the confidence and poise that being an actively sexual person can give. You can want the transcendence that sex can create, the experience of epiphany and transformative joy.

And for that matter, you can want the pure animal pleasure of sex… without having the immediate physical desire for it. You can know in your head how great sex can feel, and want to re-create that feeling — without your dick or clit being hard right that second. (Sick people often don’t feel much appetite for food — but if they’re smart, they know that food will make them feel better, and they know that once they start eating, their appetite is likely to return.)

This is a bit of a tricky distinction. So let me draw a couple of analogies before I move on.

I very rarely “want” to go to the gym. When I have a rare free moment, and I stop and think, “What do I most want to do right now?”, the answer is very rarely, “What I most want is to lift weights and walk on a treadmill.” And yet, once I’m at the gym, I enjoy it. I actually do have fun working out once I’m doing it. Of course it gives me medium- and long-term payoffs in stamina and mental health and such… but I’m not even talking about that. Walking on a treadmill and lifting weights is a positive sensual pleasure. Sometimes even an erotic pleasure. I just have a hard time remembering that until I’m actually doing it.

That may not be the best example. I realize I’m a bit of a freak, and not everyone is tickled to be at the gym once they’re there. So I’ll give another example before I get back to the point: Dancing. If I’m tired at the end of a long day, I often don’t “want” to get in the car and drive across town to go dancing. What I “want” is to sleep. Or watch SpankingTube and jerk off. Or collapse on the sofa, order takeout, and watch The Simpsons.

And yet, I love to dance. At its best, dancing makes me feel transcendently connected with humanity and the universe. At its worst, it’s a heckuva good time. It is one of the great pleasures of my life: a creative pleasure, an intellectual pleasure, a source of expansive shared joy with a community, a source of intimate shared joy with my wife. And on a purely physical, sensual level, it just feels good. Once I’m dancing, I am never, ever sorry that I went.

And in the same way, I am never, ever sorry that I had sex… even if I wasn’t in the mood when we started.

Couch potato
It can be hard to overcome inertia and find the energy to do the things that we love. It’s easy to focus on the necessities of survival and getting through the day, and then just blob out once those necessities are handled… at the expense of the things that give our lives meaning and joy. Especially if we’re overscheduled and overworked. And for many of us, this gets harder as we get older. The automatically exuberant energy of youth often gives way as we age, and it takes more work and conscious effort to fan the flames into life. Especially when it comes to sex. And double especially when it comes to sex in long- term relationships.

And yet, one of the main things that defines being a mentally healthy grownup is that you can distinguish between the things you want right this second, and the things you want in the long run. Or even in the medium run. One of the things that defines being a mentally healthy grownup — and this isn’t a buzz-kill, this is one of adulthood’s greatest joys — is that you have the knowledge and self-discipline to defer the gratification of immediate desires, in order to fulfill larger, more deeply satisfying desires. This can mean passing on sex that you know is a bad idea even though you have a strong, urgent desire for it… but it can also mean pursuing sex that you know is a good idea, even though you have a strong, urgent desire to just order a pizza and then go to sleep.

And one of the things about getting older — and about being in a long-term relationship — is that sex tends to shift away from being a relentless, urgently demanding physical desire, and toward something familiar that’s easy to put on the back burner… but that’s richly and complexly satisfying when you set aside time and energy for it. It shifts away from, “I am totally starving right now, if I don’t get a burger in the next ten minutes I am going to pass out and die,” and moves toward, “We have some free time this Saturday — why don’t we cook something special? Let’s make that roast chicken you like so much, or try that recipe for polenta with red pepper sauce we keep looking at.”

These are two very different ways of “wanting” food. And don’t get me wrong, both have their charms, I am a big fan of the starving hamburger lust. But it would be a huge mistake to say that only starving hamburger lust counts as “wanting” to eat. Setting aside time to plan and cook a meal also counts as “wanting” to eat, “wanting” the sensual pleasure and rich satisfaction that food can give you… even if you aren’t hungry right that second.

I’ve written something like this before: how, in order for sex to be satisfying, you don’t have to be in the mood when it starts. You just have to be willing to get in the mood. But I hadn’t thought of it quite this way before now. Being willing to get in the mood — being willing to seduce and be seduced, to be drawn in by the pleasures of sex even though you’re not feeling it when you start — is really just a different way of wanting it. It’s an acknowledgement that, even though you may not “want” sex in the more immediate and narrow sense of the word, you still “want” it in the larger and broader sense… and that therefore, you’re willing to prioritize it and make room for it in your life.

If you really, truly don’t want or care about sex on any level… okay. I personally have a hard time getting my mind around that — heck, I have a hard time understanding people who say they don’t like to dance — but I trust that, for a handful of people, it’s probably true.

But I did not get that from this letter at all. Maybe I’m misreading it: but I did not get the sense that the author of this letter was genuinely happy with the status quo. (For one thing, if she were, she wouldn’t be writing to sex advice columnists.) The author of this letter seemed dissatisfied and sad. It seemed like sex was important to her, or used to be important to her, and that even though the overpowering physical urge for it had dissipated, she still missed it.

So if what you mean by “I don’t seem to want sex anymore” is “I no longer feel the immediate physical urge for sex that I used to, but it’s still important to me and I want it in my life”… then I think it might behoove you to rethink what you mean by “wanting sex.” I think it might behoove you to stop thinking of “an immediate and overpowering physical lust” as the only meaningful definition of “wanting sex”… and to give the “it’s important to me and I want it in my life” meaning every bit as much weight.

What Does It Mean to Want Sex?
OrbitCon: The Orbit's online conference. Attend from anywhere.

11 thoughts on “What Does It Mean to Want Sex?

  1. 1

    Great piece. I’m on medication that kills my physical desire for sex, and keeps me from having orgasms. But I still enjoy sex with my husband of five years. It’s intimate and pleasurable and makes me feel close to him. I’m happier for the next couple of days afterward, because we shared something special. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have that AND lust, but I can still be happy without the physical lust.

  2. 2

    Really great post. I think this is such an important distinction. I was just talking to a friend about this very issue. When my partner and I were first dating, all we did was fuck. Seriously. I actually worried that we didn’t have any shared interests beyond the bedroom, so I told him we needed to have a sex moratorium for a few weeks to make sure we were actually compatible. We did – and we found out we both like going to arts & crafts fairs, farmers’ markets and the like. Now we’re married and we don’t have sex as often – usually just once or twice a week. Sure, it would be great if we still fucked like teenagers, but we also have a whole life that we share together. But if that desire for sex ever goes out of the marriage, I think it’s time to hit the road.

  3. 3

    Further support for your point: my birth control pills are killing my sex drive and I hate it. Just because I don’t have the same physical desire/capacity for orgasm doesn’t mean I don’t want orgasm.

  4. 4

    An excellent post. You present the fact that everything in life runs up against responsibility, and sex is no different. Taking up responsibility is read by our society as a duty of a grown-up, and knowing the when and how often and why of sex are all parts of that status. It is yet another need that must be satisfied.
    I remember the juvenile days that Serena posts, and they were fun. But indulging excessively in our urges once cost me a necessary job, and I thus learned the hard way that there needs to be responsible limits to the amount of sex one gets to enjoy.
    This isn’t to say that responsibility is intended to kill sex entirely. What it does mean is that sex – like so many other things in adult life – requires responsible management. One can’t let things get out of control in either direction of too much or too little. As both Steff and Lynet point out with their comments, there are often mitigating factors to expressing physical love, but that doesn’t mean that it can be ignored. It is still necessary, and the adult is supposed to know enough to enable and sponsor meeting that need as necessary – including “just because”.

  5. 5

    I’d like to say something relevant, but I am far too distracted by how horrible that “Ask the Perv Panel” logo is. The blue and red text clash, and the red is really hard to read against the black background.

  6. 6

    You, this horrid looking person,
    make me puke every time I see
    your name. You are PUTRID.
    I do not see how any publication
    would give you room for your stupid rants. Get out of the
    office and get a real job, Blogger! Nothings.

  7. Omi

    Great post! those who are taking meds, I pray that you soon will no longer feel you have to take them and heal YourSelves through natural, wholistic means, which includes tantric sex. Best to You all! In Love and Light, Ride the Wave and Manifest at Will!

  8. Jen

    I realize that this was written nearly two years ago but I’ve only come across it now.
    I love it! There are so many reasons for which I want sex. I have an increased sex drive, one could say, and, in the past, it had shown. There were sexual encounters with various people, of both sexes, and it was fun, fulfilling and appealed to the animalistic urge of sex.
    However, I was in a short relationship with someone for whom I had developed very strong feelings, recently, and the sex with him was the best I’d ever had. It was intimate, there was eye-contact and a lot of kissing. He’s big too and knows how to use it (lol). It just felt so good on every level.
    Sadly, we aren’t seeing each other any more and, while I really really want to have sex, the thought of not having that same intimacy with someone else, probably a booty call, just makes me avoid potential sexual encounters. I want this person and I want the feeling that I had when I was with him. It was basically as Greta Christina wrote, “You can want the effect sex has on your life, and on your relationship. You can want the closeness and intimacy it gives you with your partner. You can want the affirmation it gives, the feeling of being desired and valued. You can want the confidence and poise that being an actively sexual person can give. You can want the transcendence that sex can create, the experience of epiphany and transformative joy.”

Comments are closed.