Category: Uncategorized

“Why is my sex drive low?” is one of the most searched questions in the UK — and for good reason. Many people experience changes in their libido at different points in life. If you’re worried about low desire, you’re not alone, and it doesn’t mean something is “wrong” with you.

What Causes Low Sex Drive?

Low libido can be influenced by a mix of physical, emotional, and relational factors. Some of the most common include:

• Stress and tiredness – everyday pressures, burnout, or poor sleep, late stage capitalism (truly!)- it’s important to remember low desire isn’t always our fault.

• Hormones and health – changes during perimenopause or menopause, postpartum, or medical conditions.

• Medication side effects – such as antidepressants or contraceptives.

• Mental health – anxiety, depression, or past trauma can impact desire.

• Relationships – unresolved conflict, lack of communication, or feeling disconnected.

For neurodivergent people, sensory overwhelm or difficulty switching off from a busy mind can also play a role.

Myths About Libido

A low sex drive doesn’t make you broken. In fact organic low libido is actually not very common. Desire isn’t supposed to look the same for everyone, and it doesn’t have to be spontaneous. For many, desire is responsive — it builds with connection, safety, and the right conditions. It can be useful to understand what our conditions are- this can help us to recognise when desire is present.

What Can Help

• Be curious about your body and mind instead of judging yourself.

• Check in with lifestyle factors: sleep, stress, and wellbeing.

• Talk openly with your partner (if you have one).

• Seek support if you’re feeling stuck — a sex therapist or GP can help.

Want support with this?

If this blog resonated with you, I offer free consultation where we can explore what’s bringing you here and whether working together feels like a good fit.

I also create a range of resources on sexual wellbeing, including both free and paid options, designed to be accessible, supportive and inclusive.

→ Book a free consultation
→ Explore resources

You’re welcome to take what’s useful and leave the rest.

You’re enjoying sex. You’re turned on. You feel connected to your partner. Everything feels good—except you can’t orgasm. Every now and then you feel a glimmer, a spark of hope, it’s happening and then….poof it’s gone again. Maybe you can climax when you’re on your own, maybe you’re asking yourself what does an orgasm even feel like?

If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. Many people have satisfying sexual experiences yet struggle to reach climax. But here’s the truth: not being able to orgasm is not something you just have to accept. It’s a signal that something needs attention—and you can take control of it.

It’s Not Your Fault

Stop blaming yourself. Sexual response isn’t simple—it’s shaped by physical, psychological, and sensory factors. Popular culture teaches us to expect instant, effortless orgasms, as if they should happen on command. That’s unrealistic. Your body and your sex life are far more complex—and far richer—than a single climax. Medications, stress, and unresolved trauma can also affect orgasm. None of this means you’re broken. Sex therapy can help you to unpick what might be getting in the way of your O.

Check Your Stimulation

Most people who can’t orgasm are missing one crucial factor: the right kind of stimulation. Penetration alone rarely leads to orgasm for the majority of women and vulva‑owners. The clitoris—not the vagina—is the main source of orgasmic sensation. If you’re not giving it enough consistent attention, you’re cutting off your body’s most reliable path to climax.

Focus on Feeling, Not Thinking

The mind is another gatekeeper. If you’re busy thinking, monitoring, or hoping for an orgasm, you’re pulling yourself out of your body and into your head- ADHD can heighten distractibility during sex . Desire needs focus, not pressure. You need to let go, not try harder. If you’re struggling to let go this might be a sign that something needs your attention.

The bottom line: if you’re saying, “Sex feels good, but I can’t orgasm,” don’t wait for it to fix itself. Take action. Learn your body. Ask for the kind of stimulation you need. Drop the idea that it should “just happen.” It doesn’t for many people—until they take charge.

A sex therapist can help you to find your orgasm. Book your free 30 minute introduction call today

Want to learn more? Check out Sex Education: The Sex Therapist Edition 

If you’ve found yourself saying, “We’ve stopped having sex,” you’re not alone. It’s a common experience for couples at any stage of a relationship — and it can feel confusing, painful, or even shameful. You might wonder, What happened to us? or Is something wrong with me? When we’ve stopped having sex, it’s easy to fear the worst. But often, there’s more to the story — and support is available.

Our sex life has disappeared- Why Does Sex Stop?

Sex can stop for many reasons. Sometimes it’s physical — pain during sex, changes in libido, or medical conditions. A recent autism or ADHD diagnosis can call your sexuality into questions. Other times, deeper emotional or relational issues are at play: resentment, disconnection, stress, or misaligned needs.

At the start of a relationship, desire can mask these underlying tensions. But once the early intensity fades, you may notice that something feels off. When we’ve stopped having sex, it often reflects a need for deeper connection or understanding — not failure.

You’re Not Broken — and Your Relationship Isn’t Either

Saying we’ve stopped having sex can carry shame, but it’s a meaningful signal — not a dead end. You are not broken, and neither is your relationship. Many couples go through this and come out stronger.

How Sex Therapy Can Help

Sex therapy gives you space to explore what’s happening. As a psychosexual therapist, I help couples understand the “why” behind the disconnect — whether it’s neurodivergence, emotional strain, sexual dysfunction, or past trauma. Together, we find new ways to rebuild intimacy and desire.

Want support with this?

If this blog resonated with you, I offer free consultation where we can explore what’s bringing you here and whether working together feels like a good fit.

I also create a range of resources on sexual wellbeing, including both free and paid options, designed to be accessible, supportive and inclusive.

→ Book a free consultation
→ Explore resources

You’re welcome to take what’s useful and leave the rest.

When people hear “relationship therapy,” they often picture couples on the brink—shouting, crying, making one last attempt to fix what feels broken. Therapy can carry a heavy sense of shame or secrecy. After all, don’t the best couples just figure it all out?

The truth is—most of us were never taught how to communicate well, especially when we feel vulnerable. There’s a saying: we are hurt in relationships, and we heal in relationships. Our closest partnerships often shine a light on old wounds—pain we’ve carried for years. In those moments, our partner isn’t the cause but the one caught in the crossfire when something deep gets triggered.

Old Wounds Need Attention, Not Avoidance

Without care and attention, those wounds don’t heal. When you can’t explain what’s happening inside—or don’t even understand it yourself—it’s easy to fall into stuck patterns. This is exactly where relationship therapy can help. Therapy isn’t just for relationships in trouble. If you want to understand each other more deeply, figure out why you come back to the same argument time or time again . Or maybe something’s not been working in your sex life for a long time  and you want to face it together,

Going to Relationship Therapy Doesn’t Mean You’ve Failed

Starting therapy doesn’t mean your relationship is broken or that you’ve failed. It means you care. It means you’re willing to be curious about each other. It means you want to grow—together, not apart.

Relationships Need Space to Evolve

Relationships are living systems. They need care, maintenance, and room to evolve. Therapy offers a supportive, neutral space to look at what’s working, what isn’t, and what you both truly long for. It can deepen intimacy, strengthen communication, and bring clarity to patterns that keep you stuck.

It’s Not About Blame—It’s About Understanding

Relationship therapy isn’t about blame or fixing. Most issues aren’t “solvable” in the traditional sense—but through honesty, insight, and empathy, couples can learn to navigate them with greater understanding. That’s why starting therapy early—before frustration becomes resentment—often leads to better outcomes.

So if things feel flat, stuck, or simply off, you don’t need to wait for a crisis. While others might see therapy as a red flag, what if it’s actually a sign of strength?

Therapy isn’t the end of a relationship.
Sometimes, it’s the beginning of a new chapter.

My Approach

In my work with couples, I draw from Relational Life Therapy (developed by Terry Real), which focuses on truth-telling, accountability, and emotional connection. I also practise pluralistically, weaving together therapeutic tools to meet the specific needs of each couple.

My style is direct but warm, always aiming to help both partners feel seen, supported, and empowered. Whether you’re navigating conflict, intimacy, neurodivergence, or long-standing patterns, therapy can be a place to reconnect, realign, and move forward—together.

Want support with this?

If this blog resonated with you, I offer free consultation where we can explore what’s bringing you here and whether working together feels like a good fit.

I also create a range of resources on sexual wellbeing, including both free and paid options, designed to be accessible, supportive and inclusive.

→ Book a free consultation
→ Explore resources

You’re welcome to take what’s useful and leave the rest.

Autistic people are far more likely to identify outside of conventional sexual and gender norms than their non-autistic peers, and are more likely to live in mixed orientation relationships. These relationships often challenge mainstream assumptions about identity, intimacy, and belonging—both within the relationship and in the eyes of society.

The cultural script for relationships is narrow. It dictates expectations about roles, attraction, desire, and gender. When you step outside that script—by being in a mixed orientation relationship or simply by wanting something different—you often face confusion, dismissal, or silence.

For autistic people, who experience the world through a distinct sensory and emotional lens, fitting into these tightly defined relationship boxes can feel disorienting or even painful. We’ve learned that when our relationships appear to align with the societal template—cis-het, monogamous, domestic—the world responds with understanding and approval.

But this perceived acceptance can come at a cost. It often demands masking, and for many autistic people, that means muting parts of ourselves in the very spaces where we long to feel most seen. That kind of inauthenticity can deepen the sense of disconnect.

Many autistic relationships already operate outside the norm. They may look conventional from the outside but function in beautifully nontraditional ways—through fluid boundaries, less performative intimacy, or a rejection of the ‘relationship escalator.’

As Meg-John Barker writes, “Queer is about messing with the boundaries, not simply replacing one set of norms with another.”

Love doesn’t need to look a certain way to be real. It just needs to feel like home. For many of us, that means making space for fluidity, for self-trust, and for mixed orientation relationships that honour who we truly are. Sex and relationship therapy can help

Ref: Barker, M.-J., & Scheele, J. (2016). Queer: A Graphic History. Icon Books.

Relationships are great — until communication starts to unravel. For many, that’s when couples therapy becomes essential. In relationship therapy, mismatched communication styles are often the root issue, even if they show up as problems with sex, commitment, or unmet needs.

In mixed neurotype relationships, it can feel like you’re speaking different languages — not due to lack of love, but because you’re wired to give and receive information in different ways.

The truth? (and this goes for all relationships) Communication takes work. Real, intentional, moment to moment work. Most of us were never taught how to be assertive or how to express our needs clearly. 

Neurodivergent Relationships: Why Communication Feels So Hard

People experience and express connection in deeply individual ways — and when two people in a relationship have different neurotypes, that gap can sometimes feel like a canyon.

The Double Empathy Problem, a concept coined by autistic scholar Damian Milton, suggests that misunderstandings in communication between neurodivergent and neurotypical people aren’t just about a lack of skills on one side — they’re mutual. Both people may struggle to understand each other’s internal experiences, emotional cues, and unspoken expectations.

For example, someone who is AuDHD may prefer clear, direct communication. If something isn’t explicitly said, they might not realise it’s being implied. Meanwhile, their partner — whether neurotypical or differently neurodivergent — might use more indirect language or rely on subtle cues, assuming their partner will “just know.” When these styles clash, both people can feel frustrated, hurt, or unseen.

One partner might feel exasperated or uncared for; the other may be confused about what went wrong, overwhelmed with shame or anxiety, and unsure how to fix it.

In some relationships, one partner may seem emotionally distant or distracted. In reality, they might be deeply invested, spending hours thinking about their partner and the relationship. The internal focus, coupled with moments of hyperfocus or sensory overload, means this emotional presence doesn’t always translate into outward gestures.

So one person might feel starved of attention, while the other is confused about how their love isn’t being felt. Both may end up feeling disconnected or alone. This is not because they don’t care, but because they’re speaking different emotional dialects.

How Neurodivergent Relationship Therapy Can Help

Neurodivergent couples therapy, that understands neurodivergence can create a shared language. One that helps you both feel heard and understood. Together, you can build new communication habits that support your connection instead of straining it. Below are some ways you can start to improve communication.

Three Ways to Build Better Communication in Mixed Neurotype Relationships

• Practice assertiveness: Say how you feel using “I” statements. “I feel hurt when you don’t check in with me” is clearer and more productive than “You never care.”
• Create regular check-ins: Spend 10–15 minutes each week talking through what went well, what felt hard, and what you need more of.
• Be direct about your needs: Want more compliments? Say so. Need alone time to reset? Let your partner know and explain why it matters.

Mixed neurotype relationships come with their own unique challenges, just like all relationships — and they also come with unique possibilities for deep intimacy, understanding, and growth. 

With support, you can learn how to truly hear each other and build a relationship that works for both of you. If you would benefit from seeing neurodivergent couples therapy, please reach out.

What does love actually feel like for you?

Our idea of love is often shaped by what we see in movies, TV shows, and songs — romantic, dramatic, heartbreaking, intense, and always aesthetically pleasing.

We’re fed a lot of cultural messages about love, especially when we’re young. Some of the classics include:

• “Falling in love is easy.”

• “You need to love yourself before you can be in a relationship.”

• “I just knew they were the one.”

• “The honeymoon phase is the best part.”

• “Relationships should feel easy.”

I absorbed these messages in my teens and early twenties. But when it came to actually being in a relationship, none of them really applied. Or at least, they felt… off. Like love was happening on someone else’s terms — terms I couldn’t quite access.

For AuDHD brains, love can feel like an incredibly abstract concept. We might be left asking, But what actually is it? I believe that everyone’s version of love is different. And because of that, it’s easy to misread or misunderstand other people’s relationships — or even our own.

Autistic traits tend to crave sameness, certainty, and routine. Perfect for long-term commitment. ADHD traits? They thrive on novelty, spontaneity, and urgency — not exactly the best match for domestic stability.

So when you’re both (AuDHD), it can feel like being in a constant tug-of-war with yourself. Like living with Jekyll and Hyde. You long for security and excitement, structure and freedom. You want closeness, but you need space. It’s not confusion — it’s complexity.

In Audhd relationships, this can look like inconsistency, which might leave partners feeling confused… but rarely bored! The challenge is learning to hold both — the steadiness and the spark — in ways that honour your nervous system and relational needs.

When our need for safety and connection is met, our ADHD side gets more breathing room — and that’s when it can thrive. AuDHD love is rich, intense, surprising. It can feel both amazing and constricting. Learning how to live with that paradox makes all the difference.

If you’re in an AuDHD relationship and it feels confusing or hard to name your needs — know that you’re not alone. Most mainstream relationship advice wasn’t made with us in mind. But that doesn’t mean your relationship is broken. It just means the tools need adjusting.

Sex and relationship therapy can help — especially when it’s informed by lived experience of ADHD autism relationships. 

Faith can be a powerful source of positivity in a person’s life. But when religion is rooted in fear—especially without room for flexible, nuanced thinking—it can become a source of trauma. In this blog, I’ll explore how religious trauma and sexuality intersect and shape our relationship with intimacy.

What is Religious Trauma?

Religious trauma is the physical, emotional, or psychological response to religious beliefs, practices, or structures that an individual experiences as overwhelming or disruptive. It can have lasting adverse effects on a person’s mental, emotional, social, physical, and spiritual well-being.

Shaping Sexuality

Our formative experiences with religion can profoundly shape how we relate to sex, intimacy, and our own bodies. Many religious teachings—especially those rooted in purity culture and strict moral frameworks—frame sex as something to be controlled, feared, or avoided rather than explored as a natural and healthy part of human life.

Common teachings that contribute to religious trauma around sex include:

• Sex is only for marriage
• Sexual desire is dangerous
• God is all-seeing and all-knowing

For some, the belief that God can read your mind leads to a sense of constant surveillance, creating deep anxiety around sexual thoughts. Many people raised with these ideas develop patterns of self-monitoring, suppression, and guilt, spending significant mental energy trying to “purify” their thoughts. This can lead to chronic anxiety, depression, and disconnection from one’s own body.

Religious Trauma & Neurodivergence

Neurodivergent individuals, particularly those who are autistic or have ADHD, may be even more susceptible to religious trauma. Many neurodivergent people naturally think in black-and-white terms, making it difficult to process religious teachings with nuance. Instead, they may internalise strict moral codes in absolute terms, experiencing intense shame, self-judgment, and fear of punishment for natural sexual feelings.

When someone spends years suppressing desire and fearing sexual thoughts, it can have lasting effects on sexual well-being. Some of the long-term consequences include:

• Struggles with sexual guilt and shame
• Anxiety and overthinking during sex
• Sexual dysfunction or loss of desire

Many people find that when they do engage in sex, they are plagued by guilt and fear over doing something “wrong.” The idea of “losing virginity” as an irreversible act can create additional distress, reinforcing the notion that sex is something that takes away rather than adds to a person’s experience. Reclaiming your sexuality starts with unpacking internalised shame—recognising where your guilt comes from and challenging the narratives that make you feel “bad” for being sexual.

Religious trauma can have lasting impacts on your sexuality but healing is possible. Redefining your sexual ethics can also be transformative, shifting away from fear-based teachings toward a framework grounded in consent, mutual care, and personal values.

Exploring pleasure without fear means giving yourself permission to experience intimacy, touch, and desire without shame. Therapy and support can be invaluable in this process, especially when working with a sex-positive therapist who understands religious trauma and can help you reframe these deeply ingrained beliefs.

Want support with this?

If this blog resonated with you, I offer free consultation where we can explore what’s bringing you here and whether working together feels like a good fit. I also create a range of resources on sexual wellbeing, including both free and paid options, designed to be accessible, supportive and inclusive.

→ Book a free consultation
→ Explore resources

You’re welcome to take what’s useful and leave the rest.

Many people in relationships tell me they want sex to feel natural and spontaneous again—something that just happens. But the truth is, when you really think about it, 100% spontaneous sex is a myth. It only felt that way in the beginning and think of the effort you were putting in back then! Early on, excitement, novelty, and high arousal levels make intimacy feel easy. Over time, as familiarity grows, desire shifts. That doesn’t mean something is wrong—it just means sex requires more conscious effort.

In the early days, you might have lived apart, only seeing each other when you were both at your best. Now, you share a home, overhear each other in the bathroom, and have daily conversations about shopping lists and other really mundane shit. The context of your relationship has changed, and with it, so has your sex life.

Long-term relationships thrive on intentional intimacy. Instead of waiting for desire to magically appear, partners need to nurture it—by staying curious about each other, communicating what they enjoy, and making space for intimacy beyond life admin.

If your sex life feels off, get curious. Ask yourself:

• How emotionally connected do I feel to my partner outside the bedroom at the moment?
• What was our last sexual experience like? Was there pleasure, fun, and mutual enjoyment?
• What’s going on in my life right now? (Stress is a huge desire killer.)

Desire doesn’t exist in isolation; it’s deeply tied to feeling seen, heard, and valued as well as being impacted by biological, psychological and cultural factors i.e Trump + Cost of Living/Anxiety = No desire.  If sex has started to feel like an obligation rather than an experience of connection, it might be time to check in with each other—emotionally as well as physically.

The irony? The more connected you feel, the more likely that spontaneous sex will happen. Long-term sex can be exciting, fulfilling, and full of possibility. Let’s do away with the myth that passion naturally fades—it’s time to rewrite the script.

Sex therapy can help you reconnect and rediscover pleasure in your relationship.

Want support with this?

If this blog resonated with you, I offer free consultation where we can explore what’s bringing you here and whether working together feels like a good fit.

I also create a range of resources on sexual wellbeing, including both free and paid options, designed to be accessible, supportive and inclusive.

→ Book a free consultation
→ Explore resources

You’re welcome to take what’s useful and leave the rest.