Dear Roe,
Intimacy has vanished from our marriage. My wife and I are close. We both work demanding jobs and have three wonderful kids which brings additional demands. I’m high energy, very active and have a high sex drive whereas my wife prefers less intensive exercise and professes to having a low sex drive, which I respect. I’ve tried talking about us finding some middle ground, but she avoids the conversation. We’ve had sex once in the past year.
I go through waves of withdrawal and mental angst to the point I can’t get to sleep unless I exhaust myself through sport. Attempts to cuddle or initiate any contact are quickly torpedoed by the now nightly routine of ebook, earbuds and back turned to me. Admittedly, like many couples our age with kids, we struggle to find time to do things together. Any advice on how to find a pathway out of this downward spiral (for me, at least) would be appreciated.
This may sound unexpected, but I want to start by encouraging you to think about your approach to hobbies and leisure – because often, this is where deeper, often invisible gender dynamics quietly shape relationship health and, by extension, intimacy.
You mention your high-energy exercise habits and high sex drive in contrast to your wife’s preference for quieter activities like reading or listening to something in bed. It’s clear that you see your routines as rejuvenating, but her evening routine might be the only time in her entire day when no one is asking anything of her. That quiet, uninterrupted time serves the same function for her as exercise does for you – but I’ll bet you don’t frame your frequent trips to the gym or runs or time out playing sport as your “back turned on her”.
I understand that it can be natural to assume that night-time is the default time for sex so that’s “your” shared time, but if your wife has had no time to herself all day and needs to eke out some quiet moments at night, maybe it’s time to rethink this framing.
This difference in your downtime isn’t just personal – it reflects a common, gendered dynamic in heterosexual relationships that often goes unaddressed. Many traditionally male-dominated hobbies – team sports, watching sports, cycling, running, fishing, carpentry, car repair – require long, uninterrupted periods of time and often happen away from home. In contrast, hobbies more commonly associated with women – like reading, baking or gardening – tend to occur within the domestic space, are easily interrupted, and are expected to be done alongside other tasks like caregiving or domestic labour.
In essence, women’s leisure time is routinely fragmented and expected to coexist with caregiving or household duties, while men more often enjoy uninterrupted, high-quality downtime. Their leisure is typically seen as more legitimate and is protected from disruption, giving them valuable mental and emotional recovery. By contrast, women’s leisure is often lower in quality, more vulnerable to interruption, and frequently expected to benefit the family in some way. Even women’s “self-care time” is actually a demand to adhere to a beauty standard, as women are expected to spend time and money on haircare, nails, skincare etc – activities that take time and money but don’t always replenish a woman’s energy.
[ ‘I had always wanted to be a stay-at-home mum … but I’m exhausted’Opens in new window ]
Add on top of this that women in relationships with men still do, on average, more of the mental load, childcare and domestic labour than men, even in supposedly equal marriages, and it is inarguable that most women – especially mothers – get significantly less leisure time, time to relax, and simply time that isn’t spent attending to other people’s needs.
If we take that seriously, it becomes easier to understand why sex can start to be hugely impacted.
Shifting the question from ‘Why doesn’t she want sex?’ to ‘What does she need to feel safe, connected, and cared for again?’ reframes the issue entirely
If your wife’s only uninterrupted time is 30 minutes before sleep, she faces a choice: reclaim that time for herself or spend it engaging in something – sex – that can feel like yet another demand. Particularly for mothers, the concept of being “touched out” is real, when physical affection, even from a loving partner, starts to feel overwhelming.
When relationship health is strong and emotional connection is high, sex can be a source of joy. But when those foundations are shaky, sex may feel like an additional responsibility. As sex educator Emily Nagoski outlines in Come As You Are, many women experience “responsive desire”, meaning arousal doesn’t come out of nowhere – it follows connection, safety and the right context. Many men experience spontaneous desire, which can lead to misalignment. If the context is emotionally strained, filled with unspoken needs or lacking in care, her internal “brakes” are likely activated, and desire simply won’t appear.
In this case, it’s not that your wife doesn’t want sex – it’s that her body and mind are protecting her from something that feels incompatible with her current state. This isn’t about rejecting a partner; it’s about the body and mind needing space, support and rest before it can even access desire. Shifting the question from “Why doesn’t she want sex?” to “What does she need to feel safe, connected and cared for again?” reframes the issue entirely. And now we’re talking about the relationship ecosystem – not just the bedroom.
[ Is it possible to spice up a sexless marriage?Opens in new window ]
We both know I sadly can’t magically make juggling the demands of two careers and three kids easier for you. But I encourage you to get very specific and honest about the time you each get for rest, hobbies and recharging. If you spend two hours playing sports four times a week, where is your wife getting that same eight hours free from responsibility?
I highly recommend Fair Play by Eve Rodsky – a system that helps couples inventory and redistribute household labour more equitably. And when doing this, it’s vital to distinguish between infrequent, episodic tasks (like taking the bins out) and constant, ongoing work (like dishes, laundry, school logistics). True equality requires both time and mental bandwidth to be fairly shared.
Next, consider: where are you making time as a couple? Not time as co-parents or co-workers, but space for genuine connection – date nights, shared joy, emotional intimacy. When those parts go missing, sex often becomes the casualty, not the cause. If your wife isn’t feeling seen, appreciated or desired as a person, she may not see sex as a way to reconnect – but as another thing she’s supposed to give. So, the deeper question is: how can you become close again?
You say that intimacy has vanished from your marriage – and it’s important to recognise that intimacy is broader than sex. It includes emotional connection, care, shared vulnerability, affection and the kind of safety that allows two people to feel truly seen by each other. Without rebuilding those foundations, trying to “fix” a sex life in isolation often leads to more frustration on both sides.
Start small. Offer physical affection without expectations – hugs, a kiss on the cheek, a touch on the back, cuddling in bed to create connection without any demands or expectation for anything else. Express appreciation – not just for what she does, but who she is. Make space for no-pressure time together – walks, coffee, a shared show. Just be near each other.
You’re understandably feeling rejected and lonely. Those feelings matter. But she may be just as emotionally depleted, just in different ways. Both of you are likely overwhelmed. Resentment thrives in that gap, and sex doesn’t grow in that soil. If it’s hard to navigate these conversations on your own, couples therapy can be transformative. Sometimes a neutral space allows the conversations that need to happen to finally take place.
You’re not alone in this. So many long-term couples, especially parents, find themselves in dry seasons. But they don’t get better by focusing only on sex. They improve when emotional connection is restored, when both partners feel valued, supported and truly seen.
That’s the foundation. And from there, intimacy – in all its forms – can start to grow again. Good luck.