As a sex coach and someone with an STI that sometimes affects my ability to have physical sex, I have spent a lot of time redefining what sex and intimacy means to me. However, I still use the word sex to express my interest in connecting intimately with my husband because it’s easy.
The problem with the word sex is that it’s very limiting.
As a society we have been brought up with the word sex to mean penetration of the vagina with a phallic shaped item — be that a penis or an item shaped like one. If that doesn’t happen, then you haven’t had “sex”.
When my husband hears the word sex, he assumes a particular experience. And sometimes, he just doesn’t have the energy to engage in such an experience. He’s aware it takes time for me to be ready for penetration and therefore, in his mind, the experience of sex is something he needs to put aside xyz amount time for, and have the energy and stamina to engage in.
That’s a lot of expectation and a lot of pressure!
When I ask my husband if we can have sex, I really just want to connect intimately.
So the other week we decided we needed to take the word sex off the table and instead change it to intimate. We had a good chat around what that could look like and essentially we just need to communicate more clearly about what we desire on any given day — removing any pressure and expectations around what it should look like.
But then it got me thinking. Why am I so hung up on the word sex?
For those of you who don’t know, this is my third marriage. One of the reasons both my other marriages failed was because of the lack of sexual attraction and interaction. There were, of course, many other reasons, but this played a huge role on my end.
Because of these failures — and probably a whole host of other societal influential factors — I realised, I had subconsciously created a belief in my mind that a successful and fulfilling marriage was based on how much sex a couple had.
Therefore, if we had sex a certain number of times a week, then things were ultimately good in our marriage. But, if we weren’t having sex multiple times a week, I would start to panic — does this mean our marriage isn’t as good as I thought? Are we headed in the same direction as my other marriages? Is he not attracted to me? Does he not want me? My thoughts would spiral.
The last couple of months, the amount of times we’ve been intimate each week has dropped. Oftentimes it’s been once a week and sometimes dropping down to once a fortnight. I would find myself obsessing over when we were going to have sex next just so I could calm my nervous system and “know” that our marriage was ok and not doomed to fail. But in that obsession, I wasn’t present.
I was essentially ticking off a box — we had sex, marriage is still successful [tick].
It wasn’t feeling as meaningful because I had attached a story to it. If my husband has sex with me, he still wants me, I’m still desirable, he still loves me. It affirmed the part of me still searching for validation. But in those weeks where we weren’t ticking off the box, I was reaffirming my biggest fear — I’m not wanted. And so, I decided I needed to rewrite that story for good.
One minute I was telling my husband we need to take the word sex off the table, and the next, I was saying we needed to take sex off the table — completely.
Funnily enough, a sex ban is the first thing I encourage my clients to do when they start couple’s coaching with me. It helps ease the nervous system, it removes any pressure and helps rebuild trust in the relationship if it’s been broken. But in my mind, we didn’t have any sexual “problems” or trust issues and so we’ve never needed to go on a sex ban.
Except I realised, that’s exactly what we needed to do!
I need to be able to sit in the discomfort of not having sex, so I can rewrite the story that a successful and fulfilling marriage is based on the amount of sex a couple has.
If I can go four to five months without having “sex”, and still feel deeply connected, held, seen, and loved by my husband, then I can prove to myself that a successful and fulfilling marriage isn’t measured by the number of orgasms or frequency of sex we have — but rather in presence, attunement, and the way we choose each other every day.
And the more I let go of the story that sex equals success, the more space I create for true intimacy to take root — the kind that transcends performance, pressure, or expectation. The very essence of what it is I teach and encourage.
Ironically, what began as a simple shift in language — replacing the word sex with intimacy — has become a deeper invitation into the very medicine we didn’t know we needed —» The Sacred Pause.
So what is The Sacred Pause.
It’s something I created based loosely on the sex ban I encourage my clients to do, but with an agreement and a connection plan so we know exactly what to expect.
Creating the agreement was the most important part to me.
I needed it to be super clear on what we were abstaining from, what was permitted, why we were doing it, and what it was going to do to help us.
Essentially, the agreement acts as the anchor. Even for those who aren’t currently sexually active but are taking The Sacred Pause, the agreement helps regulate your nervous system, create trust and safety in the body, and removes any form of pressure, inuendo, or expectation.
It reminds you a hug is just a hug, and a kiss is just a kiss.
It takes the guesswork out of any intimate moment potentially being an attempt at something “more”.
For many women, or in this case my husband, any form of intimate touch can make them tense up wondering if there’s an expectation attached to it.
The agreement is what helps their body relax. It says — you’re safe, you can trust in this moment, you can surrender.
Now I want to reiterate, The Sacred Pause is not a ban on connection and intimacy altogether. It’s not a “hey, let’s just take a break from any kind of physical touch for the next four to five months”.
It’s an invitation to find connection and intimacy in new ways, but that does require pausing certain things while we rewire the neural pathways in our brain that tell us what sex and intimacy means.
So our agreement needed to be very specific about what was allowed and what wasn't.
Obviously it meant taking penetration off the table, but it also needed to remove any suggestion or expectation — whether intended as a joke or not — because that’s when the nervous system can relax.
As I said, The Sacred Pause is an opportunity to connect and be intimate without any expectation or pressure attached to it, and I wanted to make sure we still prioritised that. So alongside the agreement, I created a 20 week connection plan.
The idea is that we dedicate at least two nights per week to connection dates.
We are not allowed to do any of the things we agreed to pause in the agreement (unless stipulated in our connection plan), but we are agreeing to priortise connection and intimacy.
Each week we get a new practice to do, gradually building up to more erotic practices.
Because sex is not the goal.
But intimacy is.
I’m not gonna lie, I’m nervous as fuck! The discomfort is real. But I also know that in the discomfort is where growth happens. That’s where patterns shift, where stories dissolve, and where deeper connection begins.
And I would love for you to join us.
Whether you're craving reconnection, navigating mismatched desires, or simply want to build more conscious intimacy without the pressure of penetration, The Sacred Pause is a powerful tool I want to share with you too.
The Sacred Pause has been created with nervous system regulation, trust, safety, and presence in mind. It is trauma informed and helps you create agency in your decisions.
Every practice is an invitation.
You get to decide how long you stay in each phase — your connection plan could look like 35 weeks or 10 weeks — and you get to decide whether you do the practices clothed or naked.
Every practice begins the same way and ends the same way to create safety.
Each week the practices increase in closeness, and sometimes you repeat the same practice for two weeks. You always have the option to stay longer, or go back to a practice if you need.
This isn’t about doing less. It’s about doing love differently.
May this be an invitation — to yourself or your relationship — to explore what intimacy truly means beyond the physical.
Because when we stop chasing connection and start cultivating it — that’s when everything changes.
If you’re here as a paid subscriber, I will be sharing the more intimate parts of our journey over the next four to five months. The messy, the challenging, and the incredible. You’ll get real time insights into our Sacred Pause and how it’s influencing and affecting our relationship.
If you’re here as a free subscriber, this is your monthly journal entry from me. I highly recommend you join my paid community if you’re interested in my more personal musings. Paid subscribers get more frequent publications from me, rituals, meditations and tips and tricks to create more intimacy and connection, as well as erotic short stories — all for just $5 per month or $50 for the year.
Either way, I appreciate you and I want to thank you for being here and witnessing me.
With love and pleasure,
Bryony, x