Sharon Gordon Sharon Gordon
Image: File picture
For years, women’s magazines, therapists, girlfriends, TikTok “experts,” and late-night glasses of wine have all circled the same question:
“Why doesn’t he initiate sex anymore?”
The conclusion is usually swift and dramatic. He’s cheating. He’s lost attraction. He’s lazy. He’s selfish. He’s getting it elsewhere. He’s become one of those men who lives in boxer shorts and communicates only through grunts and cricket scores.
But sometimes the truth is far less scandalous, and far more human.
Many men stop initiating sex not because they don’t want intimacy, but because somewhere along the line, intimacy started feeling dangerous.
Not physically dangerous, obviously. More emotionally dangerous. Ego dangerous. Confidence dangerous.
And unlike women, who are often encouraged to discuss relationship pain with friends, therapists, podcasts, support groups, neighbours, and occasionally strangers in supermarket queues, men tend to suffer quietly. Often spectacularly quietly.
A surprising number of men are walking around carrying rejection they never speak about.
Not dramatic rejection. Everyday rejection.
The hand moved away in bed. The sigh. The “not tonight.” The “you always want sex.” The criticism about technique, timing, frequency, stamina, body shape, emotional availability, or ability to locate a clitoris under pressure like it’s an Olympic event.
I do have to take one for the team here, women are taught to stay silent rather than make men feel uncomfortable, so if she raised any of these issues with you, usually in anger I can bet that it took everything she had to bring it to your attention, first gently and then in anger.
After enough experiences like that, many men begin to associate initiating sex with the possibility of humiliation.
So, they stop trying.
And women, understandably, often interpret the silence as lack of desire, rejection or “he no longer finds me attractive”.
Meanwhile the man is lying there thinking: “If she wanted me, she’d let me know.” And the woman is lying there thinking: “If he wanted me, he’d initiate.”
Welcome to the world’s saddest stalemate.
Then there’s exhaustion, the least sexy word in the English language.
Midlife is not exactly a sensual spa retreat. People are stressed, overworked, financially anxious, sleep deprived, menopausal, hormonal, medicated, and one bad mattress away from a lumbar support crisis.
Many men are carrying enormous pressure: work stress, financial responsibility, ageing parents, struggling marriages, changing bodies, and the quiet panic of getting older in a society that worships youth and six-packs.
By the end of the day, some men don’t lack libido, they lack functioning batteries.
And then we need to talk about performance pressure.
Women have, rightly, spent years challenging unrealistic beauty standards. But men also carry crushing expectations, especially sexually.
A man is supposedly expected to:
At 25 this is ambitious. At 55, after blood pressure tablets and two whiskeys, it becomes a high-risk group project.
Many men live in fear of sexual “failure.” One difficult experience, erection problems, finishing too quickly, not finishing at all, feeling disconnected, can create enormous anxiety.
And anxiety is not exactly foreplay.
The cruel irony is that the more pressure a man feels to perform, the harder it often becomes to relax enough to enjoy intimacy.
Then there’s medication and ageing, topics many men would rather discuss while being chased by bees.
Antidepressants, blood pressure medication, diabetes medication, stress, poor sleep, weight gain, declining testosterone, alcohol, anxiety, and depression can all affect libido and sexual function.
Because masculinity is so tied to sexual performance, many men would rather retreat quietly than admit vulnerability.
Some men don’t stop initiating because they don’t desire their partners. They stop because they fear disappointing them.
And then there’s emotional disconnect, the one nobody wants to admit because it sounds dangerously close to therapy.
Sex for many men is often one of the primary ways they experience closeness, affection, reassurance, and connection. But when relationships become tense, critical, resentful, or transactional, desire can quietly shut down.
Men do not thrive under constant criticism. Few people think: “You know what would make me feel aroused? Being told I never help correctly with the dishwasher.” If you’re a woman reading this, I do feel your pain but maybe try to hear yourself.
Over time, emotional distance can become sexual distance. Underneath all this, many couples still deeply love each other. They’re just trapped in silence, misunderstanding, bruised egos, and years of assumptions.
Women often believe: “If I initiate, I seem desperate.” Chances are she’s hearing her mother’s voice warning her not to be a slut.
Men often believe: “If I initiate and get rejected again, I’ll feel pathetic.”
Stalemate, nobody moves.
What’s needed isn’t blame. It’s conversation. Honest, awkward, human conversation.
Not: “You never want sex.”
But: “I miss feeling close to you.”
Not: “What’s wrong with you?”
But: “Are you okay?”
Sometimes the man who stopped initiating isn’t uninterested.
He’s tired. He’s anxious. He’s ashamed. He’s disconnected. He’s afraid of rejection. Or he simply no longer knows how to bridge the gap without feeling like he might fail.
And perhaps that’s the real conversation modern relationships need, not just how women experience intimacy, but how men silently experience the loss of it too.
Because behind many quiet men is not indifference. It’s vulnerability wearing a very unconvincing disguise.