Sexless in Seattle: It’s Complicated
Sexless in Seattle is a series exploring intimacy, desire, erotic fulfillment, emotional labor, loneliness, grief, and the complicated realities of long-term relationships.
Not just frequency.
Not just intercourse.
But the deeply human question of what makes people feel erotically alive—and the stories we inherit about what sex is, and what it’s supposed to look like or mean.
🌀 Sexless? It's Complicated.
According to peer-reviewed studies, a long-term relationship (usually defined as 2+ years) becomes “sexless” when intercourse occurs less than a certain number of times per month or year. But those definitions tell us almost nothing about the relationship itself.
Two people can have sex once a month and feel deeply connected. Two others can have sex three times a week and feel utterly alone.
Peer-reviewed studies on “sexless” relationships typically focus on frequency of intercourse, but frequency alone tells us very little about emotional intimacy, erotic connection, relationship satisfaction, or mutual fulfillment.
So is “sexless” really just about intercourse frequency? Or is it about something deeper?
(No pun intended.) 😉
📊 Beyond Frequency
There is no single standard definition for “sexless” relationships.
When I first started looking into this topic 20+ years ago, a “sexless” relationship (marriage or cohabitation) was often defined as having intercourse 1–2 times per year. More recent studies sometimes define it as once every 1-3 months.
The emphasis has largely been on intercourse.
And the frequency of intercourse.
But intercourse is only one form of sexual expression.
And definitions of intercourse still typically center around penis-in-vagina sex.
What about oral sex?
Anal sex?
Tantric sex?
Touch, sensuality, toys, erotic play, or mutual pleasure that doesn’t involve intercourse at all?
Frequency alone tells us very little about desire, satisfaction, fulfillment, erotic connection, obligation, emotional intimacy, loneliness, or wellbeing.
It tells us even less about the meaning people attach to sex itself.
🤝 Mutual Satisfaction
If you and your partner are satisfied with the frequency of your sexual encounters—whether that involves intercourse, oral sex, tantric exploration, mutual masturbation, or something else entirely—then it doesn’t really matter whether researchers would define your relationship as “sexless” or not.
It could also be that neither of you is especially interested in sex or erotic expression at this stage of your lives, for any number of reasons: aging, illness, trauma, stress, neurodivergence, medication, exhaustion, grief, plant medicine retreat restrictions, raising small children, or simply preferring sleep. 😉
In that case, you could technically be in a “sexless” relationship and feel completely fulfilled by it.
What matters is not whether your relationship fits some external definition of “sexless” or passes some arbitrary numerical test.
What matters is whether both people feel fulfilled by the frequency and quality of their erotic connection—or by the absence of it.
⚡️ Erotic Mismatch
A “sexless” relationship tends to become painful when one person wants more sexual or erotic connection than the other person.
Then again, it can also become painful when someone wants less sex than they’re having.
Sometimes people have sex out of obligation.
Or guilt.
Or pressure.
Or a sense of duty.
When what they actually want is fewer sexual encounters.
Or different kinds of erotic connection.
Or none at all.
So the problem isn’t necessarily “sexlessness” itself.
The problem is often erotic mismatch.
A mismatch in frequency.
A mismatch in desire.
A mismatch in erotic interests.
A mismatch about meaning.
Or a mismatch in the role sex plays within the relationship.
Sometimes one person has little or no interest in sex, while the other is left wondering what the hell happened to their sex life.
One of my friends falls into the “done with sex” camp. Her husband does not. She told him to “get over it” because she was done having sex.
Situations like this raise complicated and uncomfortable questions:
Is sex a relational responsibility?
Is anyone owed sex in a long-term relationship?
What obligations do long-term partners have to each other?
What happens when desire disappears for one person but not the other?
When does sexual autonomy collide with relational commitment?
Because often, the pain isn’t just about “lack of sex” or “too much sex.”
It can be about rejection.
Loneliness.
Loss of intimacy.
Loss of touch.
Loss of shared erotic identity.
Feeling unwanted.
Feeling pressured.
Feeling invisible.
Or grieving a version of the relationship that no longer exists.
Or grieving an unrealized erotic vision.
🔥 Erotic Fulfillment
If “sexless” is poorly defined and “sex” is too narrow, what are we actually trying to describe when we talk about sex in a long-term relationship?
Erotic fulfillment.
A relationship can lack intimacy long before intercourse stops.
Intimacy involves vulnerability, connection, honesty, emotional presence, and mutuality.
Erotic fulfillment isn’t just about intercourse.
It’s also about:
Curiosity.
Playfulness.
Desire.
Flirtation.
Anticipation.
Sensuality.
Affection.
Touch.
Shared erotic imagination.
Sometimes what people miss isn’t intercourse itself.
(And, sometimes they do.)
Sometimes they miss being kissed slowly.
Being looked at with hunger.
Being chosen.
Being pursued.
Being seduced.
Sometimes they miss emotional intimacy inside erotic connection.
And sometimes people are having intercourse, but still feel profoundly erotically disconnected.
Because frequency alone cannot measure erotic fulfillment.
And erotic fulfillment cannot be reduced to intercourse alone.
I’m less interested in counting intercourse than in examining erotic aliveness, mutuality, touch, honesty, desire, avoidance, grief, pressure, resentment, guilt, and the stories people inherit and tell themselves about what sex means.
😉 Happy Ending
Maybe we’ve spent too much time counting intercourse and not enough time asking what people are actually longing for.
Maybe the question isn’t:
How often are people having intercourse?
Maybe the question is:
What makes people feel erotically alive inside a long-term relationship?
Desire.
Respect.
Playfulness.
Safety.
Emotional intimacy.
Feeling appreciated.
Feeling understood.
Feeling chosen.
Seduction.
Sleep. 😉
Probably all of the above.
And perhaps even more importantly:
What stories have we inherited about what sex is, and what it’s supposed to look like or mean?
Love,
Heidi
What stories have you inherited about intimacy, desire, and erotic fulfillment?
If this piece sparked recognition, curiosity, discomfort, grief, relief, longing, or even a nervous laugh—you’re not alone.
More essays in the Sexless in Seattle series are coming soon.
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