I'd like to thank Meagan for sharing her story with us about her journey and struggle with delayed ejaculation. Together with her husband Mark, they brought their sex life back under their own control.
I used to think our sex life was just going through a phase—like a dry spell that we’d eventually snap out of. But as time went on, it became clear that it wasn’t just a phase; it was something deeper, something that was eating away at me from the inside. Mark, my husband, had this thing with delayed ejaculation. At first, it didn’t really bother me; in fact, I kind of liked how long we could go. But eventually, what started as exciting marathons became exhausting, and not in a good way.
It got to the point where I started dreading sex. I never thought I’d say that—I mean, who dreads sex with their husband, right? But I did. Every time we got into bed, I’d have this sinking feeling like, "Here we go again…how long is this going to take?" I felt terrible even thinking that way. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, and I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. But every time it took forever for him to finish, I couldn’t help but feel this mix of frustration and doubt.
I started to wonder if I was the problem. Was I not sexy enough? Not good enough in bed? Maybe there was something wrong with me that was turning him off. These thoughts would spiral in my head, and before I knew it, I was in this dark place where sex became more about performance and less about connection. I tried to spice things up—new lingerie, sexy talk, you name it—but nothing seemed to make a difference. The more I tried, the more I felt like I was failing.
Mark could tell I was getting frustrated. He’d always apologize afterward, telling me how much he loved me and how it wasn’t my fault. But those apologies just made me feel worse, like I was some sort of cold-hearted bitch for not being more understanding. I hated that I was resenting him, resenting us, but I couldn’t seem to shake it.
It wasn’t just the sex that was suffering; our whole relationship was feeling the strain. I started avoiding intimacy altogether—coming up with excuses, staying up late so I’d be too tired, you name it. But deep down, I missed the connection we used to have. I missed feeling desired, feeling sexy, feeling… like I was enough.…
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