What Sexually Frustrated Men Need to Understand About Their Partners
By: Yael Wolfe
Tags: Relationships, Men, Love, Sex, Sexuality

What Sexually Frustrated Men Need to Understand About Their Partners

Your frustration is most likely a symptom of a bigger issue

Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash

I find it endlessly frustrating that I have to say, again and again, that yes, women like sex. Yes, women want sex. Generalization though it may be, it is very often true.

And yet again and again, I hear men complaining that women don’t like sex, don’t need sex, don’t want sex. They’re dissatisfied, they’re not getting enough, their partners are inhibited or unresponsive, they’re angry, they’re frustrated. And somehow, that translates to the strengthening of the myth that women don’t like sex.

Guys…with all due respect, you need to stop perpetuating this damaging belief. You need to listen. You need to understand.

Your frustrations, anger, and dissatisfaction are legitimate and real. That is not in question. But those feelings and the circumstances in which you find yourself are symptoms of a bigger issue.

Here’s what’s really going on:

The sexual conversation still mostly centers around men.

Most women I know were raised in a culture that talked endlessly about men’s sexual pleasure — his healthy proclivity to masturbate, his need to experience the release of orgasm, his need to have a variety of sexual sensations and experiences, his need to “play the field”… Shall I go on, or do you get the picture?

I and many of the women of my generation were given very different messages about our own sexual experience. No one talked about female masturbation — no one — leading us to believe it was forbidden or at the very least, unnecessary. No one validated our need — or right — to experience orgasm. No one talked about the variety of sexual experiences and sensations a woman could have — I didn’t know anything but missionary position existed until I was 17 and didn’t know cunnilingus was a thing until I was in my twenties (years after all my friends had been performing blow jobs on their boyfriends on a regular basis). And it was expected that women would be faithful sexual and romantic companions no matter what our partners were doing.

The bottom line is: Many of us were never taught that we were allowed to take up space in the bedroom. And as you can maybe imagine, for many women, it can feel pointless to sit down at a table at which there is no place set for us.

Women are carrying an enormous burden of sexual shame.

Our culture has seriously fucked us up when it comes to sex. Religious and cultural rules and standards have twisted a basic human need into a field of emotional and physical landmines.

I want to acknowledge that many heterosexual, cisgender men have been deeply hurt by this — I doubt anyone is fully immune to these toxic beliefs.

However, women have been a primary target for our culture’s sexual shaming.

We’ve been shamed for our body size, for having body hair, for having smelly vaginas, for expressing desire, for not expressing desire, for masturbating, for not masturbating, for our sexual fantasies… Again, you get my point, I’m sure.

What you maybe don’t get is how deep this shame runs, or how much it affects our behavior in the bedroom (or even outside it). You need to realize how impossible it can feel for many of us to be able to let go completely during sex. You need to understand how hard it can be to allow our bodies to move in ways that will bring us pleasure. You need to know how out of reach it can feel to completely surrender to an orgasm, to drop every mask we wear.

Religious shame is even more overwhelming and more deeply ingrained and can be perpetuated and exacerbated by our partners, making the situation even worse. My former partner, a born-again Christian, was deeply conflicted about his desire to have sex even though he didn’t want to marry me. The only way he could justify his actions in the face of his religious beliefs was to blame me. He once called me a “daughter of Eve,” and often claimed that his moral failings were my fault because women were inherently corrupting.

This is heavy baggage we bring to bed with us. Many of us, no matter how hard we try, cannot just release our grip and let it all go. That’s the work of a lifetime.

Women are still facing sexism and misogyny every single day, outside the bedroom.

If you are a heterosexual cisgender male, you will never understand the kind of shit women deal with every single day. Don’t get me wrong — I know you have your own challenges — but let’s acknowledge that you are at the top of the food chain and as such, you can’t truly know what life is like lower in the hierarchy.

I cannot tell you how many times I have been treated with casual and culturally-acceptable disrespect by male co-workers and bosses. I cannot count how many times I’ve been verbally or physically assaulted by a man — strangers, acquaintances, and lovers. I cannot calculate the number of times a man has dismissed my voice, my preference, or my opinions because they were too “girly.”

You might not realize the significance of this, but these kinds of daily aggressions (and yes, I said daily) chisel away at the core of our womanhood — at our soul, our center, the power we have as females. It is very hard to inhabit a sense of sexual empowerment when we are so consistently disempowered by the world in which we live.

Women still struggle for sexual agency.

I was not taught that I had any right to dictate what happened to my body, just like so many other women. “Consent” wasn’t part of my vocabulary when I became sexually active — on the contrary, my dad taught me that I would have to submit to a man’s desires if I “teased” him into thinking I wanted sex.

I have endured extreme pain during sex more times than I can count because I didn’t believe it was okay for me to ask my partner to stop or slow down — I didn’t believe it was okay for me to interrupt his pleasure, not even to alleviate my own pain.

I didn’t think it was okay for me to ask for what I wanted or needed. And when I did, my requests were so often met with arguments, criticism, or denial by men who were also taught that their pleasure was the priority.

Again, imagine approaching sex with this experience. Would you want to engage in an encounter in which you feel powerless before it’s even begun?