Spread the Love
Perel decries the tendency of children to take the place of our partners as objects of passion. In a seeming contradiction, she is also critical of the idea that our partners should be our soul mates. Relying on one person to provide us with all our emotional, physical, and psychological comfort is unrealistic, she explains. "There is a lack of extended family in the United States," Perel says. "The partner becomes our sole support and must fulfill every role."
By forming relationships based on equality and openness, Perel says, we have erased mystery from our lives. We feel we must share our whole selves for our partnerships to be solid, but she argues that passion and eros can only thrive when parts of ourselves are kept secret: "Contrary to what we've been told, more intimacy doesn't always lead to better sex." Her prescriptions include cultivating interests outside of the children and the relationship. She urges couples to cordon off adult time and to go away without the kids. When I mention that my husband and I are going to Paris without our 2½-year-old son, she practically jumps across the table to give me a gold star. "Those four days will add a year to your marriage," she insists, adding that she and her husband take a 10-day vacation each year by themselves. "We plot adventure again," she says. "When you're in the home, you have to be the anchor—you can't be the adventurous ones. The kids are the adventurers."
A Distinctly American Problem?
Of course, Perel's prescription isn't as easy as it sounds. Making time to indulge your love of rock climbing or to jet off for 10 days without the kids is hard to pull off for most parents, who already have too much on their plates. Still, maybe that's a specifically American lament. Perel, with her European roots, and other writers who have studied motherhood in different cultures say that American moms are simply too tortured.
"French women grow up assuming their sexuality from the get-go, which makes it easier for them to enjoy themselves as women and not fall into that guilty Protestant hand-wringing that drives us American women to the extreme of be-all-things-to-all-people mommyness," says Debra Ollivier, the author of a forthcoming book about French women, love, and sex. "The consensus in France is that sex is what brought you your child in the first place; it's what you should continue having in the second place."
But what if it's the last thing you want? Laura, an academic in suburban Boston with three kids, ages 7 to 14, says that before she had children, her sex life was "frequent, passionate, and robust." But after the birth of her second child, she began to notice she had "zero libido—not a flicker." She was so uninterested, in fact, that she once suggested to her husband that he find sex somewhere else. "He said, 'But I want to make love to my wife,'" Laura says. "My shoulders just sagged."
Years of therapy convinced Laura that her lack of desire was not a symptom of larger problems. "When we're at a dinner party and we look at each other across the room because someone made a stupid joke—that's sexy to me," she says. "When we laugh at the same time, that's sexy. I just don't miss sex."
But unsurprisingly, this indifference has caused her husband to feel angry, rejected, and unloved. "He has a great need for sex, and I have none," Laura says matter-of-factly. "So we schedule it. Once a week. It's oppressive for me. My feminist friends can't believe I do this. But I love him, and this is what makes him happy." When I ask Laura if she misses feeling sexy, the way she used to before she had children, she says no: "My kids fill up my mind and satisfy my emotional needs. I'm passionate about them, and you can only be passionate about so much."
The Science Of Desire
Biology can help explain why many women suffer from low libido immediately after having children. "During childbirth and while nursing, there is a surge in oxytocin, and that suppresses sex drive," says Helen Fisher. When the level of oxytocin, a hormone that promotes bonding, rises in the brain, it takes over for dopamine, the chemical that surges when we fall in love. But what explains the extended drought that lasts long after nursing has ended and the baby is sleeping through the night? "Novelty drives dopamine levels in the brain," Fisher explains. "Routinized behavior kills sex drives." And domestic life, as we all know, is fairly routine.
Oriana, a part-time photographer in Los Angeles, describes her home life as stable and loving. Like many of the women I spoke with, she sees this as a natural shift from her more carefree prebaby life: "I crave moments of having butterflies in my stomach again. But I find the butterflies and sparks in different forms now. Seeing my husband with our son, seeing him be a good father—that can turn me on."
Though her husband gets cranky sometimes when they haven't had sex in a while, talking about how she's feeling helps ease the tension. "I just have to be honest about what's going on with my head and body," Oriana says. "He's usually very compassionate and understanding. And sometimes he's like, 'Okay, then will you give me a blow job?' And to me that's not a big deal. We try to accommodate each other. It sounds a little sterile ... but sometimes that's marriage."
As pragmatic as Oriana is about her life right now, she often mourns for her old self. The changes motherhood has wrought on her body and her identity have been difficult for her. "When my son was 6 months old, I was at a stoplight and this guy pulled up next to me and started flirting," she says. "I looked at my son in the backseat. The guy noticed, quickly mouthed 'Sorry,' and sped off. It was my introduction to what felt like the rest of my life. As long as my son is with me and people see me as a mother, they won't see me as a sexy, sensual being."
Perel says that this cultural view is detrimental to women—and to children as well. "One legacy of American Puritanism," she says, "is the idea that if there is erotic energy in the home, it will damage the child. In fact, children who see their parents being demonstrably affectionate will grow up to embrace sex with a healthy dose of curiosity and responsibility."
Still, creating erotic energy takes some active planning. "If it's been a while, I'll say, 'We better do this thing,'" says Raykeil. "Maybe it won't always be fishnet stockings up against a wall, but it can be really nice."










