Time and time again I’ve found myself reaching for the third or fourth glass of wine with a friend and hear the age-old confession: “I really love my boyfriend, but the sex just hasn’t been that great.” What fascinates me about this is not the complaint itself, but rather the contradiction. These are the same women who will unapologetically dissect everything else. As they should, of course. We will critique a boyfriend’s texting habits, his tone of voice, his emotional availability, the way he chews, the way he dresses. We are forensic. We are relentless. Nothing is off limits – until it is. Until it’s sex. And suddenly, the most confident women I know go quiet. Why is it that we demand better communication, more effort, more emotional presence — but when it comes to sex, we accept less, and instead lie back and think of the orgasm we’re not having.
Part of it is ego — fragile, complicated, and very much present on both sides of the bed. Sex is personal in a way nothing else quite is. To say “this isn’t working for me” can feel like saying your partner isn’t enough. However, our own ego is equally to blame. Speaking up means admitting you’ve been unsatisfied. That you’ve been performing — and perhaps rather convincingly. In fact, most women I know probably deserve an Oscar at this point.
But isn’t vulnerability exactly what we say we want? We talk endlessly about emotional intimacy. About being seen. We read the books, go to therapy, learn the language of our inner worlds with an almost devotional commitment. We have become impressively fluent in the vocabulary of the self. Yet, still we perform and fake pleasure, claiming that was “the best sex of my life,” when it really was not.
Ultimately, women need to ask for what we want. We do it everywhere else, and without apology. We negotiate salaries. We send food back at restaurants. We set boundaries with our mothers. And yet in bed, with the person we’ve actively chosen, we go silent. We decide, without realising, that this is the one category where we will not advocate for ourselves.
It makes no sense. And it must change. So, here is how to have that conversation without making it a whole thing.
1. Choose your moment, not your frustration. Timing is everything — and mid-sex, or immediately after when emotions are still running hot, is not it. Find a moment that feels easy and connected. The energy you bring to this conversation sets the tone for everything that follows. Be calm and open and make it clear this is something you want to explore together
2. Lead with desire, not disappointment. There is a significant difference between “you never do what I like” and “I’ve been thinking about what really drives me wild.” One closes a door. The other opens a bedroom. Frame this as an invitation rather than a critique – keep in mind you are here because you want better sex, and so does your partner.
3. Start smaller than you think you need to. You don’t have to say everything at once. You don’t need to deliver a full retrospective on every encounter that missed the mark. A simple comment can catalyse a change. Remember, intimacy is built in layers. You have time.
Image by Becca Schultz on Unsplash