The Woman Who Won’t Have Sex With Her Husband
In this week’s story, a woman spends her birthday week fantasizing about other women: 39, married, New York.
DAY ONE
3:17 a.m. I’m lying in my bedroom, awake. The sleep gummies worked but then wore off. I’m upset because I know I won’t fall asleep again, and tomorrow is a big travel day with the kids, and it’s going to be so hard to push through.
6 a.m. I was right; I never fell back asleep. It seems like a reasonable enough time to wake up and go into my studio. During COVID, my husband, Dax, and I turned my daughter’s nursery into a painting studio for me. It’s the best decision I ever made. Before that, I had just been working out of a random corner in our living room, and my painting supplies were everywhere. I tiptoe into the studio and look at my unfinished canvases, scattered sketches, and I’m comforted — as I always am — by my working life as an artist.
8:20 a.m. I wake my girls up for camp. My husband is making coffee. This gives us exactly ten minutes to get them dressed and fed and out the door — my husband will walk them because it’s on the way to the subway he takes to the office. He works in finance.
10:30 a.m. Empty house. Try to nap. I end up masturbating, which I do every day. I have a few different toys, but today I just use my hand and my imagination. I think about a teacher I had in art school, who was German and voluptuous and queer, and imagine her seducing me in her office. I’m straight, but I almost always masturbate to women.
2 p.m. Pack up the kids and I for our weekend in the Berkshires. It’s my 40th birthday this weekend and my husband planned a trip with us, my siblings, their kids, and my parents. We’re a tight bunch, and I’m looking forward to it.
4 p.m. Stop by this cannabis store on Court Street to get a different kind of sleep gummy that another mom swears by. I’ve battled sleep since college. Back then, it was because I was mildly anorexic and too hungry to sleep, and after that, I have no idea. I’m in a happy marriage, I have a good life, I don’t have anxiety during the day. It’s an ongoing struggle. I fucking hate it.
7 p.m. We’re eating dinner and waiting for Dax to come home from work. He comes in looking eager and excited to get in the car and go to the Berkshires. My girls are in their pajamas and look so cute! We all eat some food and pile into the car.
10:30 p.m. We pull into this rental that a friend recommended. It’s a huge house on a lake, but it’s too dark to tell if the setting is pretty or not. My family arrives tomorrow, so tonight, it’s just us. We quickly get the girls into bed, and I fall asleep in my youngest one’s bed while lying down with her.
DAY TWO
6 a.m. I slept!
10 a.m. While the girls watch TV, Dax and I walk around the property. It’s really pretty.
12 p.m. While I’m getting brunch ready, Dax comes up and gives me a deep kiss. After 14 years together, I can read his mind … he’s hoping for sex this weekend. We haven’t had sex in about three months. It’s weird. I love masturbating — it’s part of my self-care. But I never want to fuck my husband. He’s done nothing wrong. He’s a great guy. I’m attracted to him. I love him. After COVID, when we were all in our apartment 24/7, something shifted in me, and I didn’t want to be touched. I was “touched out,” like most moms with young kids. But it never went back to normal. My iciness never thawed. He’s been completely patient with me. He never pushes or complains, but it can’t be easy for him. We try to communicate about it, but all I can say is, “I am not interested in sex right now.” And all he can say is, “I love you, and I’ll wait.”
3:45 p.m. My brother pulls up in his minivan, and now the whole crew is here. My family is super close and loud! They all have presents for me, so we put them on a credenza in the living room.
6 p.m. Cocktails. Grilling. Kids on the trampoline. We end up talking about my parents’ will, with my parents right there. This is my family’s specialty: talking about uncomfortable topics with humor and lightness. I want all my mother’s artwork. She’s an artist too and came up with some greats, and her collection still brings tears to my eyes.
9:15 p.m. Everyone is tired and putting their kids to sleep, so we close up the house early.
10 p.m. Dax and I lie in bed, planning out the day tomorrow. He wants to make sure it’s the perfect day for me. Our room is romantic — it overlooks the lake — and the bed is big and comfy with crisp white sheets. We should be fucking. Anyone would be fucking. Anyone with a handsome, kind, generous husband like mine should be fucking him. We kiss a little; he’s hard. He puts his hands down my underwear, and I’m bone-dry. As always. I whisper, “Let’s fuck tomorrow. I’m too tired tonight.” We both know I’m lying.
DAY THREE
3 a.m. Hello, insomnia.
7 a.m. I think I drifted away about an hour ago, but my nephews are awake and loud, and the sound woke me. I’m pretty mad about it, but it’s not their fault.
10:30 a.m. After the most beautiful breakfast (my brother brought amazing food from the city), my mom suggests everyone go on a hike and I stay back and nap. I love her for knowing that that’s all I want for my birthday.
12:20 p.m. I’ve masturbated twice and still can’t fall asleep. My pussy feels raw, but I wonder if I can go again. I have a specific ritual where I come and roll right over, and sometimes it sends me off to sleep. If I come, then look at my phone, or go to the bathroom or anything else, there’s no way I’ll nap. So I try the routine one more time. This time, I think of a sex party with beautiful women and a few are pleasing me at once. One is kissing me while one is sucking my nipple, and another is going down on me. It’s hard to come for a third time, but I get one out and roll over right away.
3 p.m. Loud kids wake me up. But I think I maybe slept for an hour. There’s drool on my pillow.
5 p.m. Big birthday party out on the deck for me. Banners, balloons, and gifts. I take in my family and surroundings and feel so lucky and blessed. My husband is smiling. I immediately wonder when he’ll start to hate me for ruining our sex life, but I push the question out of my mind by telling myself that I’m definitely going to fuck him tonight. I can fake it. I can do it.
8:30 p.m. All the kids are up, and the adults are drinking wine. I have a good talk with my sister-in-law and tell her that Dax and I are in a bit of a dry spell. She’s empathetic, but she also tells me that she needs sex a few nights a week to feel sane, and suddenly I feel really bad about myself.
10:30 p.m. I’m determined to fuck Dax tonight. But I’ve masturbated three times already. When we get into bed, one of our kids is calling for me … saved by the bell. I tell him I’ll be right back, but I know that I’m going to fall asleep with my daughter and basically hide from him until tomorrow.
DAY FOUR
7 a.m. We’re all packing up to get back to work, or kids’ camp, etc. Half my family left last night. I had a really good 40th.
10:49 a.m. We drop the girls off at their camp back in Brooklyn. They’re late, but at least we get a few hours to ourselves. Dax goes home, quickly showers, changes, and goes to his office.
1 p.m. I’ve put all our clothes away, done the laundry, and gone to the grocery store. Now I’m going to paint for a few hours.
3:40 p.m. Before pickup, I stop by that cannabis store and ask the same sales guy for libido gummies. He knows exactly what to give me. It’s a bit awkward, but we both laugh about it. Tonight will be the night I fuck my husband, I tell myself on the way to camp pickup.
9 p.m. I brush my teeth, then take the libido gummy, then realize I should brush my teeth again.
10:30 p.m. Dax and I are both reading in bed, and I just go for it. I roll over and start kissing him. Then I give him a blowjob. And then we fuck. I am not aroused, and I fake my orgasm, but I feel good knowing that my husband got off and that I won’t have to have sex for at least another few weeks after this. Mostly I’m happy that I gave my husband pleasure, because I love him so much!
DAY FIVE
9:30 a.m. I need to finish a painting today that a local shop owner commissioned. It’s of his cats. He sent me a cute photo for inspiration. I love what I’ve come up with so far.
11 a.m. I text Dax that last night was really nice and that he’s so sexy. In general, I try hard not to be emotionally distant from him, and I know I’m kind of lying right now. But it’s very awkward telling your partner that you don’t want to fuck them, that you have absolutely zero desire for them. So while I do typically speak from the heart, this one is tricky.
3:30 p.m. I send a picture of the final portrait to the shop owner, and he loves it. Yay!
6:30 p.m. I’m getting birthday drinks with some friends from my kids’ school tonight, so as soon as Dax walks in the door, I head out.
8:30 p.m. Of course we talk about sex all night. I half-lie and say we’re having a dry spell and having sex about once every two weeks. My friends all have more sex than me, it seems. Everyone says they do it about once a week. But they all have other issues with their husbands that I don’t. One’s husband is an alcoholic; another husband is a controlling asshole. I’d take Dax over any of them.
9:30 p.m. I come home and drink a ton of water while Dax watches the news, then I kiss him on the cheek, and get ready for bed.
9:45 p.m. Take a sleep gummy after brushing.
DAY SIX
6 a.m. I slept restlessly and had a crazy dream just before I woke up. My kids were kidnapped and I couldn’t figure out how to use my iPhone to call the police. My fingers wouldn’t work. I was hysterical. Then I woke up …
9 a.m. I get the kids to camp and get a latte on the way home. I know after this latte, there’s no way I can nap. I’ll just have to motor through the day like usual.
11:30 a.m. I start working on a new project for a little exhibit I’m having around the holidays. I am trying to put a lot of myself into the work, so I start with circles and curves, femininity, and then find myself adding sharp lines, and harsher shapes — the clash between sensuality and anger. It’s cathartic.
2:30 p.m. Watch some porn from my studio. I try a new category and turn on a fetish video. I don’t like it. I don’t want to see women getting huge objects shoved up their ass. I watch another video of pretty girls and a hot guy. It’s not bad.
6 p.m. Dax has a work dinner tonight. I always wonder how Dax reacts when women flirt with him. He’s handsome. He’s successful. I know it happens; I’m not naïve. We’ve never been unfaithful, but it hits me tonight that I’m on borrowed time. A man in a sexless marriage will usually cheat. It’s not rocket science.
10 p.m. I take a sleep gummy and go to turn my phone off. Dax sent a picture of him and some work colleagues with a text that they all say “Happy 40th.” Such a sweetie.
DAY SEVEN
6 a.m. I barely slept. Dax came home late, and I couldn’t really fall asleep until he was home safe. Then when he got into bed, he stunk of whiskey, and even though I was pretending to sleep, I was just upset for no reason.
9 a.m. He’s dropping the kids at camp today. Whenever Dax has gone out drinking the night before, he overperforms the next morning so as to not get into any trouble with me. Not that I’d ever care. He just wants to prove that he’s not too hung-over to be a good dad.
11:50 a.m. I leave to drop off the cats’ portrait. The shop owner is so happy when I give it to him. He immediately Venmos me the money, which is about $2,500. Love making money and love making him happy.
2 p.m. Run out for a latte to get me through the rest of the day and drink it while tidying up the house.
7 p.m. The girls and I meet Dax for sushi. He’s a little late because he had to close a deal at work, and there were some glitches. When he walks in, the girls cheer. They love their dad. And I do too.
9 p.m. The girls are asleep, and Dax and I are on the couch. He’s giving me the details on his work dinner last night, and tells me a crazy story about one of his colleagues who got wasted and revealed he’s having an affair. This leads to a long talk about our sex life, and Dax assures me he’s not losing patience. He promises me it’s okay. He thinks my sex drive will naturally return, but he’s careful not to “mansplain” anything. I need him to know that none of this means our marriage is in trouble. He completely agrees. He kisses me when we’re done talking, and I know this is a great time to have sex, but — shocker — I just don’t want to.
Want to submit a sex diary? Email sexdiaries@nymag.com and tell us a little about yourself (and read our submission terms here.)