Navigating intimacy after welcoming a new baby can be daunting. The six-week recovery period often leaves you anxious about what to expect when intimacy resumes. You might not feel entirely confident in your body, even if your partner has witnessed you in various states of undress. My husband certainly saw me in some unflattering moments, including the time I waddled around in a breastfeeding pillow like a life raft, a visual representation of those overwhelming early days with a newborn. But despite this familiarity, I knew things had changed—my body had changed, and I felt different. Would intimacy still be the same?
As I approached that first post-baby encounter, I shared the common fears many women experience. The reality? Things were likely to feel different. And indeed, they were.
One thing that didn’t change, though, was my habit of faking orgasms.
Growing up, discussions about sex were shrouded in negativity and shame. My only glimpse into the subject was through a static-filled television that occasionally picked up the Playboy channel. I watched those women on the screen and grew up thinking sex was supposed to be simple, quick, and loud. My first attempt at self-exploration left me frustrated, leading me to believe something was wrong with me. I didn’t revisit the subject for years.
When I started exploring intimacy with my first high school boyfriend, I was disappointed. I faked my first orgasm, unaware of what it truly felt like, convinced that I just wasn’t capable of having one. It wasn’t until a long, determined night alone that I finally discovered what worked for me.
Did this revelation change my sexual experiences? Not really. I remained uncomfortable discussing sex. The thought of expressing my desires or asking for what I needed felt impossible. I didn’t want to be perceived as difficult or demanding, fearing it would hurt my partner’s feelings. It’s no wonder that societal expectations often leave women feeling undervalued, whether in the workplace or in the bedroom.
In my early 20s, I met my husband, who was attentive and eager to please. Yet, I continued to fake orgasms. The first time I did, he seemed doubtful, but I insisted I had climaxed. I would pretend after a few minutes, and if he continued, I’d fake it again until he reached his peak. He even commented on how quickly I seemed to finish. I smiled and nodded, perpetuating the cycle.
Instead of seizing the chance for mutual satisfaction, I reverted to what I knew—avoiding open communication about my needs, despite knowing my husband would have been supportive. Years of internalized messages about sex from media left me hesitant to ask for what I wanted.
As time passed, I found myself deep into the relationship, burdened by a mortgage, marriage, and children. The opportunity to address my dishonesty seemed increasingly distant. I felt increasingly frustrated with our sex life and sought a new way to communicate my needs without revisiting the past.
After the birth of my second child, a new opportunity arose. This time, I approached our first intimate moment with hope rather than fear. It might sound dramatic, but after nearly a decade together, the prospect of experiencing true intimacy made me feel ecstatic. I understood that sex would feel different, and so did he. I granted myself permission to be honest about what I felt and what I needed.
That night marked a turning point in my life. I didn’t fake my pleasure. I didn’t rush through the experience. I communicated openly about what felt good and what didn’t. While I didn’t achieve orgasm right away, we worked together to explore and discover what I needed.
After years of pretending, I finally started to enjoy sex. The joy of receiving genuine satisfaction far outweighed any awkwardness I felt in asking for it. It’s a revelation that inspires me to encourage other women to speak up about their needs in the bedroom.
Don’t follow in my footsteps. Be open, communicate your desires, and let your partner know what you truly want.
For more insights on topics like this, check out our piece on the home insemination kit. And if you’re interested in reliable information regarding pregnancy, the CDC is an excellent resource to explore. For those seeking to understand Kawasaki disease in children, visit Intracervical Insemination for comprehensive information.
Summary
After years of faking orgasms due to discomfort and societal pressures, the author discovers the importance of honest communication with her partner following the birth of her second child. This experience leads to a newfound enjoyment of intimacy, emphasizing the need for women to express their desires openly.