We Stopped Talking About Sex. Here's How We Got Openness Back
📅 2025-11-10 • ⏱️ 9 min
Four years into our relationship, we could talk about everything. Politics. Money. Where to buy a house. Who forgot to take out the trash.
But sex? What we actually wanted in bed? Complete silence.
It wasn't always like this. In the beginning, we fumbled through those awkward conversations – clumsy, embarrassing, but honest. Somewhere along the way, though, we stopped asking. We stopped sharing. We assumed we "just knew" what each other wanted.
Spoiler: We didn't.
The Communication Gap We Didn't See Coming
Here's what nobody tells you: the longer you're together, the harder it gets to talk about sex.
In the early days, everything's new. You're exploring, discovering, asking questions. But three, four, five years in? You feel like you should already know everything about each other. Asking "what do you like?" feels almost embarrassing – like admitting you've been getting it wrong this whole time.
"Strangely, it's easier to talk about sex with a stranger than with someone you've been with for years. With a partner, there's this fear: what if they judge me? What if they think I'm weird?"
Sex therapists often point out something crucial: we're often more comfortable discussing intimate details with strangers online than with the person sleeping next to us every night. Why? Because there's no long-term consequences. No fear of changing how your partner sees you.
💡 The Shame Spiral
The less you talk about sex, the more shameful it feels to bring it up. The more shameful it feels, the less you talk. And round and round it goes, until you're both silently wondering if there's something wrong with your relationship.
What We Tried (That Didn't Work)
Before I tell you what actually worked for us, let me save you some time by listing what didn't:
1. "The Talk"
You know the one. Sitting down, serious faces, "We need to talk about our sex life." Sounds mature, right? In practice, it feels like a performance review. Awkward, clinical, and about as sexy as a trip to the DMV.
2. Dropping Hints
"Wouldn't it be interesting if people tried..." No. Just no. My partner isn't a mind reader, and neither am I. Hints don't work when you're trying to navigate something as personal as sexual desires.
3. Too Much Wine
Yes, we tried the "lower our inhibitions" approach. Result? Either the conversation never happened, or we said things we barely remembered the next morning. Not exactly the foundation for building better communication.
The Game That Changed Everything
Here's where things got interesting.
One evening, scrolling through options for "something fun to do," my partner suggested we try Truth or Dare. Not the high school version – an adult one, designed specifically for couples.
I was skeptical. Games felt... childish? Silly? But here's what I didn't expect:
When a card asks the question, you don't have to.
Suddenly, we weren't having "The Talk." We were just... playing a game. The questions came from the cards, not from us. There was no accusation, no judgment, no "why haven't you told me this before?"
🎯 How It Actually Worked
The first few rounds were light – fun questions, silly dares, lots of laughing. Then, gradually, the questions got deeper:
- "What's one thing you've been curious about but never asked?"
- "Describe your ideal intimate evening."
- "What makes you feel most desired?"
Because it was the game asking, not me, my partner felt safe answering honestly. No pressure. No fear of hurting feelings.
What Changed After 30 Days
We didn't play every single night. Maybe 2-3 times a week, usually on Friday evenings with a glass of wine (this time, the wine was just for fun, not courage).
Here's what shifted:
We Learned Things We'd Never Known
Turns out, my partner had fantasies they'd been sitting on for three years. Not wild, crazy stuff – just preferences they thought might sound "too demanding" or "not normal." Hearing them out loud? Liberating for both of us.
Conversations Started Happening Outside the Game
This was the real magic. After a few weeks, we started referencing things that came up in the game. "Remember that question about..." became a safe way to continue conversations we'd started while playing.
Sex Got... Different (In a Good Way)
More playful. More experimental. Less routine. We were trying things we'd talked about in the game, checking in with each other more, laughing together more. It felt like dating again – that early relationship energy where everything's still full of possibility.
"The game gave us permission to be curious again. To not have all the answers. To discover each other like we were still in those first few months."
Why Games Work When "Serious Talks" Don't
Looking back, I understand why this approach worked where others failed:
- No pressure: You're just playing a game, not having a capital-C Conversation
- Built-in structure: You don't have to figure out what to ask or how to ask it
- Playfulness: Laughter breaks tension and makes vulnerability easier
- Equal footing: You both take turns being vulnerable, asking questions, sharing
- Regular practice: It becomes a habit, not a one-time uncomfortable event
💭 From a Sexologist's Perspective
Research in sex therapy consistently shows that couples who can communicate openly about desires report higher satisfaction in all areas of their relationship – not just sex. The challenge isn't that people don't want to talk; it's that they don't know how to start without making it weird.
Games, questions, and structured activities remove that barrier. They create what therapists call a "third object" – something you're both focused on together, rather than interrogating each other.
How to Actually Start This
If you're reading this and thinking "okay, but how do I suggest this without sounding desperate?" – I get it. Here's what worked for us:
Frame it as something new to try together. Not as fixing a problem, but as exploring something fun. "Hey, I read about this couple's game thing, want to try it Friday night?" Low stakes. Just an idea.
Start when you're already in a good mood. Don't wait for a moment of frustration. Play when you're feeling connected, relaxed, maybe a bit playful already.
Give yourselves permission to stop. If something feels uncomfortable, you can always pause or skip a question. The point isn't to force anything – it's to create space for honest conversation.
The Unexpected Benefits
Beyond the better sex (which, yes, definitely happened), we noticed other changes:
- We started asking each other's opinions more in general – about everything, not just sex
- Arguments became more productive because we'd practiced being vulnerable
- We felt more like a team, less like roommates who occasionally had sex
- Even our friends noticed we seemed more connected
Turns out, learning to talk about sex teaches you how to talk about everything else, too.
Final Thoughts
Six months later, we still play occasionally. Not because we have to anymore – we're much better at just talking now – but because it's fun. It's our thing. A ritual that reminds us to stay curious about each other.
If you're in that place where conversation feels stuck, where you're not sure how to bring up what you really want, or where sex has become routine and you don't know how to change it – I can't promise games will magically fix everything.
But they might give you a place to start. A way to ask without asking. A chance to be honest without the weight of a "serious relationship talk."
And sometimes, that's exactly what you need.
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