The past year has brought many headlines about polyamory: “Are You Ready for Polyamory?” “Is Polyamory the Future?” “The Dos and Don’ts of Polyamorous Relationships.” There have been practical guides (a key takeaway, your shared calendar may get very complicated), firsthand accounts, and columns about very specific relationship challenges, like, say, parenting decisions made in a polycule. While polyamory has been around for many decades, it is, undeniably, having a moment. And though it is not all about sex (in fact, polyamorous relationships can often be nonsexual), that is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the part that tends to pique many people’s collective curiosity. A recent study on sexual fantasies among those in monogamous relationships found that almost one third fantasized about opening theirs up.
Me, I’m not among them. In fact, my fantasies since entering my 40s—while navigating a pandemic, parenting a young child, living in an increasingly unlivable city, and contending with health challenges (both personal and familial), all against the backdrop of the daily five-alarm fire that is the news—have simply fizzled. COVID’s lingering impact, my daughter’s needs, and the continued fight for bodily autonomy have also left me feeling totally touched out. And I can’t help but wonder: Am I alone in my desire for less desire?
No Sex, Mo’ Problems?
Never have I ever, as a Gen X’er, felt more kinship to Gen Z than when I discovered this younger cohort to be markedly less sexually active than their older peers. There may be multiple reasons for that, says Debby Herbenick, PhD, a professor at Indiana University’s School of Public Health-Bloomington and author of Because It Feels Good. A small but meaningful percentage of people feel more comfortable with asexuality and less pressure to have partnered sex if they don’t want to, she says, and some are simply opting out of sex that feels too rough or impersonal.
Being overconnected has also led to a significant intimate disconnect. “So much time spent in front of screens—whether doomscrolling or hanging out on social media or streaming shows rather than meeting others or spending intimate time with a partner—can be a reason too,” adds Dr. Herbenick. Lauren Fogel Mersy, a licensed psychologist and AASECT-certified sex therapist, adds that in some of these studies, sex is not explicitly defined. “That leaves us questioning whether there’s a decline in penetrative sexual activity or all types of sexual activity,” says Dr. Mersy. “This decline could parallel a decrease in sexual coercion and an increased understanding of consent.”
You Dip, I Dip, We Dip
Particularly as we get older, hormones become something we collectively blame for a variety of things that ail us. Our libidos are no exception. Research conducted by Wellcore found that 42 is the average age when men and women start to experience what has come to be not-so-affectionately known as the libido cliff. “Hormones play a large role in shaping our overall sex drive,” says Karen Toubi, MD, a Beverly Hills–based ob-gyn who specializes in sexual medicine, adding that estrogen and testosterone promote healthy tissue, stabilize mood, and drive arousal. Declining hormone levels during the menopause transition (and also during the postpartum stretch) can have a physical impact (dryness, pelvic-floor issues), diminishing the desire for sex. Synthetic hormones (in birth control pills and SSRIs) may sometimes also have a ripple effect on libido. “Antidepressants impact the serotonin pathway, which can reduce dopamine levels, and dopamine is critical to sexual appetite,” says Dr. Toubi. But hormonal fluctuations impact everyone differently. Postmenopause many women often feel not a dip but a surge. “Their ability to have sex without pregnancy risk helps them feel more sexually free,” adds Dr. Herbenick.
The Sexual Roadblocks
Relatedly, many women feel that pregnancy risk and the assault on reproductive rights have put a damper on their sex life. According to the Singles in America survey released by Match Group in January, one in 10 singles under 50 are having less sex since Roe was overturned. The newsreel, more broadly, and the fear and anxiety it stokes have an impact. Rest assured that a scroll through Instagram has literally never made me horny. Dr. Herbenick confirms that the stress people experience from news, political situations, or social media can decrease their sexual appetite. And it can often work in another way for people with a partner. “If they see a news or political situation one way and their partner has strong feelings the other way, then that conflict can have a negative impact on their desire for one another,” she explains.
Your day-to-day relationship dynamic and your communication around childcare, finances, and household chores can play a role here too. If I’ve built up resentment that my partner still hasn’t addressed a task that I asked him to do a year ago (that will isn’t going to write itself), my desire to do it disappears. “Relationship dynamics can impact sexual satisfaction in many ways,” says Dr. Mersy. “Feeling disconnected or not cared for can decrease desire for partnered sex. I like to remind people that anything that’s affecting you can impact your level of sexual desire.” One of the most common reasons partners seek out sex therapy, Dr. Mersy says, is something called desire discrepancy—when the desire spectrum varies between them. “Some fill in the gaps by masturbating, some agree to open up their relationship, and sometimes the lower-desire partner finds it useful to start sex, knowing they’re likely to get in the mood once they start,” says Dr. Herbenick.
