Hi Emma,
I was a paid subscriber to your old accout for about six months and I read every single thing you write, so I’m hoping you can help me with something that’s proper eating me up. I’m 34, been with my boyfriend (let’s call him Mark) for four years. On paper he’s grea, lefty, does his share of the housework (mostly), calls himself a feminist. But in bed? Absolute nightmare.
He expects me to go down on him every single time. He’ll literally lie back, hands behind his head, and wait. But when it’s my turn he does maybe two minutes of lazy fingering, maybe a bit of oral if I’m lucky, and then it’s straight to PIV. I haven’t had a proper orgasm with him in over two years. I’ve started faking it every single time just so it’s over quicker and I don’t have to deal with the sulking or the “what’s wrong with you?” conversation. I feel like such a fraud.
The worst part is I know it’s the emotional labour thing you wrote about. I’m the one reassuring him afterwards that it was amazing, stroking his ego, making sure he feels like a stud, while I’m lying there frustrated and quietly raging. I’ve tried dropping hints. I’ve sent him articles. I’ve even tried to initiate a proper conversation about it and he just gets defensive, “I thought you liked it” or “You never complain during.”
I’m exhausted, Emma. I love him but I’m starting to resent him in bed and it’s spilling into the rest of our relationship. Am I expecting too much? Is this just how straight sex is for most women? Should I keep faking it to keep the peace or blow the whole thing up? I feel so guilty even writing this because he’s not a bad guy.
Please be brutally honest. I need the Essex no-bullshit version.
Love,
Clara (Manchester)
Clara.
First of, thank you for trusting me with this. I’m sat here in my Hackney flat at half eleven at night, legs crossed on the rug, bare feet with the blue nail polish half chipped off, cherry vape cloud hanging in the air like a guilty secret, and I’ve just read your email three times. My stomach actually twisted. Not because it’s shocking. Because it’s so fucking ‘common’.
You are not a fraud.
You are not broken.
You are not expecting too much.
You’re just another woman paying the emotional labour tax in the one place it should never, ever exist, the bedroom. And Mark? Bless his heart, he’s doing what most men do: floating through life on the invisible cushion of female performance while genuinely believing he’s giving you the full experience.
Let me tell you something straight up. I’ve been exactly where you are. Not with the same bloke, obviously, but the same script. The same quiet resentment. The same fake moans while my brain is screaming “is this it?” I’ve faked it so many times I could win a BAFTA. And every single time afterwards I’d lie there staring at the ceiling thinking *this is supposed to be fun, right?*
So yeah. I’m not gonna give you some soft, polite, therapy-speak answer. I’m gonna give you the full chaotic Essex feminist rant you asked for. Buckle up, hun. This is gonna be long. Because your email deserves more than three paragraphs and a “have you tried communicating?” cop-out.
First, let’s name the actual problem
This isn’t about you “not being able to come.” This is about the ‘pleasure gap’. The one nobody likes talking about because it makes men feel bad and women feel like they’re asking for the moon.
You know the stats, right? Studies, proper ones, not dodgy magazine polls , show straight women having orgasms during partnered sex at about 65% the rate of straight men. When it’s casual hookups? That number drops to something embarrassing like 30-40%. But in long-term relationships? Still nowhere near equal. Why? Because we’re still doing the emotional labour of sex. We’re managing his ego. We’re performing pleasure so he doesn’t feel like a failure. We’re doing the mental load of “is he enjoying this? Am I taking too long? Should I just get it over with?”
Meanwhile he’s just… there. Existing. Receiving.
That’s not sex. That’s emotional service work with penetration.
And the patriarchy has convinced us this is normal. That good girls don’t make a fuss. That if you need more than two minutes of half-arsed oral you’re “high maintenance” or “difficult.” Fuck that noise.
You said he does his share of the housework “mostly.” That “mostly” is doing a lot of heavy lifting, innit? Same in bed. He does “mostly” enough to not feel like a complete prick, but not enough for you to actually get off. Classic.
The faking-it trap (and why we all fall into it)
Here’s the thing that really gets me. When we fake it, we’re not just lying to them. We’re lying to ‘ourselves’. We’re telling our own bodies that our pleasure doesn’t matter. That it’s more important for him to feel like a good lover than for us to actually feel good.
I did it for years. Proper years. With one ex in particular, lovely bloke, proper lefty, marched at every protest, he would go down on me for about ninety seconds, then look up with this proud little smile like he’d just solved world hunger. And instead of saying “babes, that was nice but I need way more,” I’d pull him up, kiss him, and fake the rest so he wouldn’t feel bad.
Afterwards I’d feel hollow. Not just physically. Emotionally. Like I’d performed femininity instead of having actual sex.
And the guilt? Oh my god the guilt. You feel guilty for faking it. Guilty for resenting him. Guilty for even wanting more. That’s the patriarchy doing its job beautifully, making ‘us’ feel bad for wanting basic human pleasure.
Clara, you are not the problem here. Your body is working exactly as it should. It’s just not getting what it needs because Mark hasn’t been taught that women’s pleasure isn’t automatic. It’s not a switch you flick with your dick. It’s work. It requires attention. It requires him to actually pay attention to *you*.
Responsive desire vs spontaneous desire, the bit most men still don’t get
Have you read Emily Nagoski’s ‘Come as You Are’? If not, get it. I’ll wait.
Right. She talks about the difference between spontaneous desire (what most men experience, they see a tit and boom, ready to go) and responsive desire (what a lot of women experience, you need the right context, the right build-up, the right mental state).
Mark is probably operating on spontaneous desire. He gets hard, he wants to fuck, job done. You’re probably responsive. You need kissing that actually lasts longer than thirty seconds. You need him to touch you like he’s got all night. You need him to *listen* to your body instead of rushing to the main event.
But instead of learning that, he’s expecting you to match his spontaneous desire script. And when you can’t, you fake it so the script doesn’t fall apart.
That’s not a compatibility issue. That’s a *patriarchy* issue. Men have never been taught that female pleasure is the point, not the bonus round.
How to actually fix this (without blowing everything up… yet)
Okay. Practical bit. Because I know you’re not here for theory.
First, stop faking it. Cold turkey. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Tonight, or the next time you’re in bed. When you feel yourself about to fake it, you stop. You say his name. You say “slow down” or “higher” or “that feels good but I need more pressure” or even “I’m not there yet, keep going.”
He might freak out. He might get defensive. He might sulk. That’s not your job to manage. That’s his job to sit with.
Second, have the conversation outside the bedroom. Not right after sex when everyone’s vulnerable. Pick a neutral time. Saturday morning with coffee. No phones. And you lead with this exact script (feel free to steal it):
“Babe, I love you and I love having sex with you. But I haven’t had a real orgasm with you in ages and I’ve been faking it because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. That stops now. I need us to figure this out together because I’m starting to resent it and that’s not fair on either of us.”
Then you shut up and let him talk. Don’t fill the silence. Don’t manage his emotions. Let him feel the weight of it.
Third, make it collaborative, not accusatory. Suggest reading Nagoski together. Suggest a “pleasure mapping” night where the only rule is he focuses on you for as long as it takes. No PIV until you’ve come at least once. Actually, make it twice. Make him earn it.
Fourth — if he refuses to engage? If he keeps getting defensive? If he makes it about his ego instead of your pleasure? Then you’ve got bigger problems than the orgasm gap, hun. Because a man who won’t do the work in bed won’t do the work anywhere else.
The darker truth
Here’s what I really want to say, and it might sting.
A lot of men, even the “good” ones, have been raised to see women’s pleasure as optional. Nice when it happens, but not necessary. They’ve watched porn where women come from two minutes of pounding. They’ve listened to their mates brag about “destroying” girls. They’ve absorbed the message that their orgasm is the finish line.
So when a woman says “actually I need more,” it feels like criticism of their entire masculinity. That’s why they get defensive. That’s why they sulk. That’s why they say “you never complained before.”
But Clara, you ‘did’ complain. Every time you faked it, you were screaming inside. He just wasn’t listening.
And that’s the emotional labour again. You were carrying the entire weight of making sex feel good *for him* while getting nothing back.
Fuck that.
My own messy history with this shit
Look, I’m not sitting here on some high horse. I’ve been the girl who faked it for three years with a bloke I thought I loved. I’ve been the girl who thought “maybe I just don’t come easily” because that was easier than admitting the sex was shit. I’ve been the girl who cried in the bath afterwards because I felt used and guilty at the same time.
I’ve also been the girl who finally snapped and said “no more.” And yeah, it ended some relationships. But the ones that survived? They got so much better. Because the men who stuck around and actually did the work? They became proper lovers. Not just fuckers.
And the ones who didn’t? Good riddance. Life’s too short to spend it managing some bloke’s fragile ego while your own clit is filing for divorce.
What I want for you
Clara, you deserve to be fucked like you matter. Not politely. Not “mostly.” Not with the emotional labour of pretending. You deserve to be with someone who sees your pleasure as the main event. Someone who gets off on getting *you* off. Someone who asks questions and listens to the answers. Someone who doesn’t sulk when you need more than two minutes.
If Mark is that guy underneath the defensiveness? Brilliant. Give him the chance to prove it.
If he’s not? Then you’ve got some hard decisions to make. But staying and faking it forever isn’t one of them.
You’re not broken. You’re not too much. You’re not asking for the impossible.
You’re just a woman who’s finally refusing to pay the tax anymore.
And that? That’s revolutionary.
Drop me another email when you’ve had the conversation. Or when you’ve kicked him to the kerb. Or when you’ve had your first proper non-faked orgasm in two years. I want to hear it all.
The Coven’s got your back. Always.
Now go sort it, babes.
You’ve carried enough.
Love,
Emma
