About Time: How Sex Gets Better with Age

Sure, I had more energy in my 20s. My libido was more active. My breasts didn’t require a heavy-duty hammock to keep them upright and I’m pretty sure my undies were cuter. But thanks to a variety of things, sex in my early adulthood was fraught. I was afraid of intimacy and experienced pain during intercourse. I thought I was broken. Now that I’m in my 40s, sex (when I feel like having it) feels far more pleasurable.

And I suspect things will only get better.

In the past, I’ve written about how sex can change as you grow older, necessitating a broader and ever-shifting definition of what sex means to you. But today, I want to highlight all the non-sexual reasons sex might actually get better with age.

Pregnancy will eventually become a non-issue.

Babymaking sex. It’s the worst. Am I right? Pressure-laden. Overscheduled. It’s the unsexiest sex I’ve ever had. Conversely, once I decided I was one and done after popping out my adorable child, I carried a deep-down fear of what I would do if my IUD ever failed.

But at least I no longer have to order fertility-friendly lubricant in bulk or schedule that babymaking sex. And one day, I’ll reach menopause and thoughts of an unplanned pregnancy won’t be hovering in my subconscious.

Whew! One less libido-busting stressor to contend with.

You might find more compassion for your body.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my body. I used to strive for body positivity, yet I continued to hate what I saw in the mirror.

This extended to my intimate encounters. How was I supposed to be in the moment if I was busy worrying about how my naked body looked at various brightly lit angles? How was I supposed to experience pleasure if I was distracted by what my partner might think of the squelching sounds our sweaty bodies made as they pressed together?

These days, what I refer to as my kangaroo pouch is just a normal part of my body. I’m more open to trying new positions that would previously have left me feeling vulnerable and exposed. I carry gratitude for a body that is strong and that takes care of me and that has accomplished many other amazing things.

Not that I no longer experience moments of body hate. But I’m coming to accept that my size is not tied to my self-worth. I no longer need to be wrapped up like a breakfast burrito in three to five blankets before engaging in the sexy-sex.

You might be less afraid to ask for what you want.

Life is too short for bad sex. This is something you understand more the older you get. I no longer have any qualms about piping up when something doesn’t feel right and giving some friendly direction.

Some of this is thanks to a newfound sense of shamelessness, yes. But there’s also the fact that the older you get and the more sex you have, the more you learn about your body and your partners’ bodies and the things that feel mutually pleasurable.

You might have more time for sex.

Eventually, as children move out and your work life slows down, your schedule will naturally ease up. Which is awesome because you’ll then have far more opportunities for morning and midday sex, and far more time for cultivating arousal.

You might come to better understand that sex is not just one thing.

I write about this often. The fact that sex is not just penis-in-vagina (PIV) penetrative intercourse. As our bodies change with age, this is a truth we need to embrace if we are to continue having pleasurable, fulfilling sex lives. There are so many opportunities for fantastic sex when the options for sex are limitless.

You will have no more cares to give.

There are so many things that can kill libido.

And so many of those things are psychological. (See: all of the personal neuroses I mentioned throughout this post.)

But when you have zero f*cks left to give, you and your boob-high cotton briefs (shut up; I love them) can just relax and enjoy yourselves