After having her first baby, Sarah Martinez-Murray felt detached from her body and sex was uncomfortable. A diagnosis changed everything.
My husband Ben and I always had an exciting sex life. It’s something that we would prioritise and make time for three or four times a week. However, after I had children and then later hit perimenopause, everything changed.
Before Ben, when I was in my late 20s, I was in an abusive relationship. Even after I escaped it, I felt traumatised, deeply untrusting and remained single for some time. But when Ben and I met in my early 30s, I felt safe and deeply connected to him. Even a few years into our relationship, we had a really fun and intimate sex life. I didn’t have any health issues or concerns, so foreplay and intimacy were all playful and about connection and pleasure.
We both travelled for work and spent periods apart, and I think our strong physical connection helped during those times. I can honestly say that with Ben, it has always been the best sex of my life.
Where was my pregnancy glow?
Five years after we met, I became pregnant with our first baby aged 35. The problem was I didn’t feel sexy and I definitely didn’t “glow” during pregnancy. My hormones were all over the place and my libido suddenly vanished. With the morning sickness, fatigue, and other complications, sex was the last thing on my mind, and even when we gave it a try, it felt uncomfortable for me – which was a first.
I gave birth to our beautiful baby girl via C-section and, as I recovered and we embraced parenthood, sex simply wasn’t a priority. However, as the months went on, my libido didn’t return. In fact, my sense of detachment and body image issues worsened as I continued to gain weight, despite eating well and exercising, and got a period unusually early.
Whilst I initially assumed this to be a usual part of the postpartum journey, after four months, I realised something was wrong. My fatigue was crippling, my skin was painfully dry and my eyelids were peeling. I felt betrayed by my body, which – until pregnancy – had always been fit and healthy.
I reached out to my doctor and a naturopath who were both amazingly intelligent on women’s health. My GP sent me for a blood test and I was diagnosed with postpartum thyroiditis – a disorder which causes inflammation of the thyroid. Whilst I was relieved to have an understanding of my physical problems, I continued to struggle with deeper emotional issues.
Zero interest in sex
I felt like my body was failing me, which was a strange and foreign feeling. I’d been in the fitness industry for over five years and – until that point – I’d always known how to look after myself. Yet suddenly, I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise my own reflection. Worst of all, I suddenly had zero interest in sex and felt detached from my body. Even when Ben and I tried to have sex, it was uncomfortable and sometimes painful.
Dryness “down there” and changes in libido are common issues for women, and yet, as I went through this uncomfortable stage of life, I felt completely alone. I realised that there is still so much shame and stigma around women and sex. I felt left in the dark, not knowing if sex would ever be enjoyable again.
As Ben and I had always enjoyed a healthy sex life, it was difficult to suddenly lose that part of our relationship, but he was wonderfully supportive during this time. He never put any pressure on me and I loved him even more for it. For a while, we didn’t have sex at all. In fact, we joked about the fact that we didn’t even know where we’d fit it in, with the lack of sleep and caring for our new child, so luckily it was kept really light. Communication was key throughout.
However, for the next year my sex drive didn’t return and I suffered from vaginal dryness, pain, hot flushes and inflammation. Ben and I sometimes tried to have sex, but it was always uncomfortable. Losing that intimate and enjoyable aspect of our relationship was difficult for us both.
It took me a while to realise there was something deeper at play. Finally, I returned to the doctor, who carefully considered my symptoms and concluded that I was perimenopausal at 39. This initially came as a shock, but everything started to make sense.
The diagnosis that changed everything
After that, I began to look into ways to nourish my body in perimenopause. Ben and I spoke about how we could make sex enjoyable again, and that’s when I first dipped my toe into the world of lubricants and products to help with my pain and dryness.
The more I researched, the more I realised that midlife women are often excluded from this space or made to feel embarrassed about needing extra “support”. Everywhere I looked, it felt like I was being sold salacious sex and instant orgasms, when I was really searching for products that helped me to prioritise intimacy with my husband.
As I spoke with my friends and other midlife women about this, I started to realise that so many of us feel ashamed and awkward about our fluctuating sex drives. Once we pass the younger, “sexier” years of our lives, it feels like the sexual wellness industry forgets about us. I was incredibly grateful to see women like Gwyneth Paltrow recently address the issue head-on. Like me, she’s going through a “hardcore perimenopause”. Her sexuality has changed and, as a result, she feels like she doesn’t know herself. As more women speak out about their intimacy struggles during menopause, I hope the veil of shame disappears.
Regaining my libido
Now, at the age of 41, I’ve regained my lost libido and once again enjoy sex and intimacy with Ben. Our sex has changed a lot from before I was pregnant, but that’s because I’ve changed and we’ve changed as a couple. Ben knows it takes more time for me to feel aroused. I often need lubrication and additional “support” for us to enjoy sex too, which initially felt incredibly “un-sexy”, but I know now that there’s no shame in it.
We also schedule sex to ensure we make the time to be intimate with one another. There’s absolutely no shame in that either. I’ll admit that it initially felt slightly odd to put a date in the diary for intimacy. However, our lives are so busy that, by scheduling an evening of sexual or non-sexual connection, it’s something that we deeply look forward to and relish.
Communicating openly with Ben has been vital. Our best sexual experiences have happened when I’ve told him exactly what I’d like to explore or we’ve addressed our desires.
Nourishing my hormones through my diet and supplements has also been really important. Estrogen is a vital sex hormone and, when our levels naturally drop during perimenopause and menopause, this can have a big impact on libido. I reshaped my relationship with food and now prioritise protein, healthy fats and complex carbohydrates in my diet.
I’ve also started taking magnesium and vitamin supplements to help support my overall hormone health. I began gentle pelvic floor release practices to reduce tension and strengthen the pelvic muscles, as well as resistance training to support my changing body.
Another vital part of my journey has been embracing self-pleasure. It’s incredibly difficult to regain your libido if you don’t know or understand what you enjoy. It doesn’t necessarily need to be erotic. I focused on small pleasures like waking up 30 minutes early in the morning to sit with my thoughts and a hot cup of coffee. Rediscovering what my body enjoyed sensually was vital too, and I embraced self-touch, massages with oil, and candle-lit showers.
It’s been a long journey – however, for my fellow midlife women who resonate with my story, these are the key lessons that I’ve learnt along the way.
How to bring back your libido in midlife
Talk to your partner about it
Perimenopause and menopause can be terrifying. My body changed dramatically and my emotions were all over the place. I struggled with hot flushes, inflammation, dryness and irritation and, as a result, there were times when I barely recognised myself.
Whilst it’s a mental battle as much as a physical one, communication with your other half is so important. Ben and I spoke openly about my loss of sex drive and the physical manifestations of perimenopause. Being vulnerable about my changing body was daunting at first, but it was much easier and healthier than keeping everything bottled up. It also made it easier for Ben to understand why I didn’t want to have sex, when I wanted to give it a try, and how he could help with that.
Treat your body with respect
One of the hardest things for me during pregnancy and perimenopause was the sense of detachment from my body. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t know how to properly care for my changing body and I certainly didn’t feel “sexy”.
Making time to look after myself was so important as I reconnected with my body and emotions. Whether it was spending the night soaking in the bath, having a massage, or practising sensuality by touching my body and discovering what felt good. Self-care is so important – you know your own body better than anyone else.
Stop worrying that it’s taking too long
There’s no quick fix. Yes, a drunken night might reignite the spark in the short term, but it’s about fundamentally rediscovering who you are and what you enjoy. I needed more time to feel aroused. It’s all normal and part of the process.
There’s nothing wrong with some lubrication
Dryness is common in perimenopause and menopause. It made sex uncomfortable and painful for me. Whilst intimate products may feel taboo or beyond your comfort zone, there’s no shame in embracing lubrication to make sex and intimacy more enjoyable.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with some lubrication. Please don’t continue to suffer if sex is painful for you.
Scheduling sex really works
It’s natural for desire to fluctuate in long-term relationships. Plus, Ben and I found life became so busy as we tried to balance our careers, family and having enough hours of sleep. It’s incredibly important that we schedule time for the two of us – not just to have sex, but simply to be intimate.
Put a date in the calendar each week where you make time solely for each other. Put the screens away and talk about everything on your mind or enjoy a moment of physical intimacy.
– As told to Ella Nunn