Sex Isn’t Broken. Desire Is Just Tired.

(This is not another article about how to fix your sex life.)

They sleep beside each other every night, but they are not having the same experience. One lies awake, thoughts heavy, body restless. The other drifts easily into sleep. Nothing is visibly wrong. No argument. No betrayal. Just a quiet distance that grows in the dark, unspoken and unnamed.

I didn’t start thinking about this because something was wrong in my own relationship. I started thinking about it because I was reading yet another article about sex. This one promised to explain how to “spark up your sex drive.” It said nothing I hadn’t read a hundred times before. Communicate more. Schedule intimacy. Try something new. Reduce stress. Get enough sleep.

My head screamed. Sex isn’t broken. What’s broken is the expectation that desire should work the same way forever.

Not because the advice was wrong, but because it was tired. Because it treated desire like a malfunction instead of a human response. Because it assumed that if sex fades, something must be broken.

I look at it differently.

People who work in chocolate shops, ice cream stores, or donut bakeries often say something surprising after a while: they can’t stand the sight of the food anymore. What once felt indulgent becomes ordinary. Sometimes even off-putting. Constant exposure dulls the senses.

The magic fades not because the product is bad, but because it’s everywhere. Desire needs pursuit. Without the thrill of the hunt, indulgence becomes routine.

Long-term relationships often ask one person to be the entire menu for decades. Same kitchen. Same plating. Same expectations. Even when love is strong, something subtle changes. Curiosity softens. Anticipation disappears. Sex becomes familiar long before it becomes exciting.

We’re told that if passion fades, the solution is to “spice things up.” Date nights. New positions. Weekend getaways. And yes, novelty helps. Mixing things up matters. But there’s an uncomfortable truth hiding beneath all that advice: even in the happiest relationships, most people still fantasize about others from time to time.

That isn’t betrayal. It’s biology.

To believe that every living, breathing adult stops noticing, wondering, or imagining once they commit to one partner is optimistic at best. Fantasy doesn’t mean dissatisfaction. It means imagination still works.

Another truth we rarely say out loud is that couples don’t always want sex in the same way, or at the same time. Mismatched sex drives aren’t a failure. They’re common. But expectation changes everything. When intimacy becomes assumed, scheduled, or owed, desire quietly erodes. The higher-desire partner begins to feel rejected. The lower-desire partner begins to feel pressured. And somewhere in between, sex stops being about wanting and starts being about managing.

This is where the real loss happens.

Sex in a marriage is often expected. But expectation isn’t seductive. It doesn’t spark curiosity or make you feel chosen. To feel desired is different. Desired means someone wants you not because they’re supposed to, not because it’s been a while, not because you share a bed, but because they are drawn to you.

Love can survive routine. Desire rarely does.

For some couples, monogamy works beautifully. They find ways to reintroduce mystery, autonomy, and distance within the relationship itself. For others, the structure feels constraining not because they lack love, but because desire doesn’t thrive under obligation.

What quietly damages intimacy isn’t attraction to others.

It’s pretending we don’t have it.

In the end, it isn’t sex people miss. It’s the feeling of being wanted without obligation.