Every other day, there’s a new take about sex on Nigeria’s side of X (FKA Twitter). From stories of group orgies to feet fetishes, with how often sex makes it to the public conversation table, it seems like every young person on this side of the globe is having kinky and exciting sex.
In a society where everything is hyper-sexualised, it’s easy to feel like an oddity for not wanting to have sex or not liking the idea of sex. Especially in a society that shames women who appear prudish. Studies have shown that low libido in women is constructed as a problem more often than not, leading women to think that a lack of sexual desire means something is wrong with their bodies.
Low libido can sometimes trace back to things like depression or hormones, but often, it’s just how a woman’s body works.
In this article, seven women talk about navigating romance with low libidos, feeling pressure to perform and coming to terms with their bodies’ needs.
“My partner thought I was saving myself for marriage because I didn’t want to have sex” — Jumai*25
Growing up, there were two sets of people who talked about sex near me; there were those who talked about it as a thing of shame, and there were those who were very much into it. I floated awkwardly between those two. I didn’t agree that it was shameful; I could understand how people enjoyed it, but I just don’t feel the same way.
As an adult, I like kissing and cuddling, but the most I can do is intense foreplay. I hate that doing all of this sometimes leads to the expectation of sex. Instead of putting myself in compromising positions, I’ve learnt to just not engage in any of the other forms of intimacy I can actually tolerate.
I’ve only become open to it recently because I love my partner. Even at that, I don’t get physical or emotional pleasure from it. We’re both aware that our libidos don’t match, but it’s not a topic we visit often. The first time I tried to explain my ‘sexual situation’, they thought I was trying to come off as decent and to abstain from sex before marriage, but aside from that, we’ve been very accommodating of each other’s sexual needs and are beginning to find our rhythm.
“I used to think I was a lesbian because I didn’t like sex” — Amaka*21
Having sex feels like washing clothes for me. It feels like I’m providing a service to the other person. You’d think I’d have come to that conclusion sooner, considering that I have a body count of two. Sex with men felt like sitting in a wet seat, uncomfortable and messy. I thought the problem was that I do not like guys. I tried sex with other women, but I felt the same disinterest. Since then, I’ve stuck to erotic cuddling. I can participate in sex, but I’ll never initiate, and long-distance relationships work best for me. I’ve had a partner tell me they didn’t mind it, only to turn around and cheat on me.
I’m not a robot, but the only time I feel pleasure is by myself. I used to have a high libido, but it was heavily influenced by books and pornography. Trying the act itself felt like eating the forbidden fruit and tasting water. I’ve told a few friends, but I feel like nobody believes me when I say I don’t like sex.
“My last relationship ended because I didn’t want sex” — Joy* 18
I have never had sex, and I never want to. The idea of it makes me uncomfortable, but I feel odd because everyone else is crazy about it. I usually pretend to be interested when I’m in the middle of public discussions involving sex.
I feel pressure to be sexually active anytime I try to date, and because of that, I’ve put dating on hold. The last time I tried dating, my partner broke up with me for not wanting to have sex. He started pressuring me for sex midway through the relationship. I kept putting it off because I was uninterested. When I told him how I felt, he said I didn’t need to be ready as long as he was. I’ve had men tell me that a woman should be available to have sex as long as the man doesn’t have reservations. I simply cannot deal with things like that.
“I was raped and it turned me off sex” – Zara* 21
I tried sex on my own terms after I was raped the first time, but I didn’t enjoy it. I honestly don’t relate to the hype about sex. As much as I find intimacy suffocating, I don’t address the topic with my partner. Instead, I pretend to be normal. I don’t usually feel pressured to be ‘normal’, but in my relationships, sex feels like something that is expected of me. I feel like something is wrong with me because I don’t want sex.
“I hate sex but I love romance” —- Tobi* 21
I started to dislike sex when I realised that it’s very transactional, and the feeling just never left. I might hate sex and the idea of it, but I’m not aromantic. I want a deep connection with my partners that goes beyond sex.
I’m very open about how I feel about sex, and I only date like-minded people. My past relationships have been with people who aren’t sexually active. I’m honest with potential partners about what they are getting into, but there will always be men who don’t take you seriously. I’ve once had someone attempt to travel interstate just to have sex with me, even after I said I wasn’t interested in sex.
I’ve never felt like something is wrong with me. I know my boundaries, and I avoid people who try to pressure me into having sex.
“I like the idea of sex more than sex itself” – Tinu* 24
When I first started dating, I liked the idea of having sex with my partner, but when I finally tried it, I didn’t get much satisfaction from it. My first partner had a high libido and would complain because I was never in the mood to have sex. The first time I had sex, I told him afterwards that I didn’t feel anything. He kept repeating what I said in confusion.
I’m just realising that I have to be in love with a person to even enjoy intimacy with them, and even then, it’s more emotional than physical. Thinking about sex makes me happier than doing the actual act. I’m someone with an almost non-existent libido, but I wish I could enjoy it as much as other people seem to do.
“My first orgasm came when I realised I’m asexual” — Lani *23
I don’t experience sexual attraction at all. I realised that I’m asexual after I read a Zikoko article on an asexual couple. The article made me question why I bothered with sex, especially when I didn’t feel aroused by the physical appearance of my sexual partners.
Before that, I used to subconsciously feel like sex was the next step after being taken on dates and treated well. It felt like something that was expected of me. I got very good at faking pleasure, and none of my partners ever questioned it. It helped that I wasn’t having a lot of sex and didn’t have to do it often.
Ironically enough, my first orgasm came after I’d figured out I was ace. Since then, I’ve dated someone with a higher libido, but it was an open relationship, and it helped that it was long-distance. I tell anyone looking to date me that I’m ace from the start. Those who aren’t fine with it leave before things get too deep. When I notice someone isn’t taking me seriously or is being weird about it, I just ghost.
Realising that I’m asexual has brought me relief. I’m at peace knowing how I’m wired and understanding that I don’t have to perform sexual attraction just to fulfil an ideal. I genuinely don’t care what the norm is, as long as I’m safe and happy. It’s a lot more complex navigating romance for sure, but I’m a very loud feminist. Romance was always going to be complicated anyway.
Next Read: Your Vagina is Not Supposed to Smell Like Flowers
