If you’re in a long-term relationship, chances are, you’ve been through a season of transition together. In fact, I feel like that’s what makes a relationship feel “long-term”… length is defined by what you’ve been through during that time, and those that last through the aches and pains of change earn the feeling of accomplishment and connection on the other side.
But let’s talk about those transition seasons for a minute.
I’ve been walking through an intense transition with my family these last six months - packing and preparing to move to a new area, settling in to a new home, and beginning three new schools for my kids. Oh, and having my house completely empty during the school day for the first time ever (glory glory hallelujah!)
There has been such immense joy. There has been body-crushing exhaustion. There has been intense stress. And there has been beauty beyond words.
The fullness of it all has left very little energy for my marriage.
I’m gonna be really honest with you today… I’ve had a whole lot less sex in the last six months than I think ever in my marriage.
Cue the vulnerability hangover!
This season of transition has left my husband and I falling into bed at night, hardly able to keep our eyes open. And the evenings when we do have a little more energy, all we want is to numb the intensity of the day with a show or a bit of doom scrolling.
The coaches in my life would be so proud! :P
The fact is, exhausting seasons are EXHAUSTING. We need sleep. We need decent food to give us energy. We need to attend to the needs of the transition, and we need to care for ourselves with any scrap of energy we have left.
Sometimes that means the relationship is last on the docket.
Now, all the experts out there will tell you this is the absolute WORST thing for your relationship. “Don’t fall into a rut!” they say. “Prioritize your connection! Your marriage needs to always come before anything else - especially your kids!!”
Okay, okay, calm down.
Yes.
Your long-term relationship needs consistent nurturing to be healthy and thriving. A hundred percent.
But some seasons require priorities to shuffle, and for connection to look different.
When you’re in a space of upheaval, you cannot expect to maintain the same rhythms of connection you may have experienced at other times in your relationship.
And desire? That’s definitely not going to be the same. I don’t know about you, but unpacking boxes for days on end doesn’t help my brain wander into sexyland.
But here’s the thing - even though it’s been a wild six months, with less sex than ever, my husband and I still feel deeply connected, joyful, and full of hope. Throughout this season, we have found tiny pockets of connection throughout the crazy, and continued to remind each other that we’re on the same team.
Because we’re not equating sexual desire with relational health.
When we ask consistent and exciting sex to be the measure of our relationship, we will have seasons filled with anxiety and resentment, because we will ALL go through times where sex is less frequent or less exciting… or both.
When we instead choose to see our relationships through the lens of lasting connection, the tension softens. There’s more room for compassion. There’s an opportunity for conversation without defensiveness or despair. And there’s a relaxing into the knowing that life is a series of seasons, and nothing actually lasts forever.
If you’re feeling discouraged about the season you’re in sexually, and it’s due to exhausting life circumstances beyond your control, rest in knowing it will pass. Seek pockets of connection. Keep communicating. And don’t, for the love, track how often you’re having sex. That helps exactly no one.
I’m rooting for you! If you want to process this season out loud, come join us at our upcoming Women’s Circle! This confidential online space is perfect for sharing, learning, and feeling encouraged wherever you’re at.
And whether you’re drowning in moving boxes, navigating a difficult work season, or bouncing your newborn to sleep, may you know deep in your heart that a lasting relationship can handle this.
It’s not about the sex. It’s about the intimate connection.