As it became clear that my partner was no longer making an effort to fix our dead bedroom, the hurt and resentment inside of me built up until it started causing arguments between us. They generally weren’t related to sex or intimacy; usually, it was about housework or some other small issue. All of the anger was rooted in my growing pain, though.

For a long time, I held back what I was really upset about. I felt ashamed for being so angry over a lack of sex. The idea of telling him I needed more physical intimacy felt shallow and petty.

I think the one point I haven’t expressed enough (or maybe at all yet) is that, aside from the dead bedroom, our relationship was actually very good. We spent quality time together, ran errands together, cooked together; it was all very happy and comfortable as long as we avoided the topic of sex. It felt like that was a skeleton that was hogtied and gagged in the back of our closet…only ignoring it and pretending it didn’t exist maintained our peace.

I couldn’t ignore it forever, though; and that brought me to the next stage…