Responsive desire is normal: why waiting for the mood fails couples

The Short Version

Across a book and three podcast conversations, sex educator Emily Nagoski and sex therapists Vanessa Marin, Dr. Emily Morse and Dr. Laura Berman land in the same place. Many people, especially women in long-term relationships, don't feel desire out of nowhere. It shows up in response to arousal, touch or emotional connection [1][2][3][4]. Marin puts it simply: with responsive desire, "We feel arousal and desire in our bodies first and then the mental desire follows" [2]. Couples who wait to feel spontaneously "in the mood" end up in a standoff, each waiting for the other to start, and often decide something is wrong with them or the relationship [2][4]. What gets them out is to stop treating low spontaneous desire as a defect and start building desire on purpose. That means planning intimacy, connecting outside the bedroom, lowering the pressure around initiating, and removing the stresses and shame that act as brakes [1][2][3][4].

Table of contents

What They Said

Emily Nagoski: responsive desire is common, and you are not broken

In Come As You Are, Emily Nagoski gives the model the other three experts build on [1]. She contrasts two patterns. One is spontaneous desire, often portrayed in media as a sudden, uncontrollable urge. The other is responsive desire, which develops in response to arousal or emotional connection and is actually more common, especially in long-term relationships [1]. The summary calls this reframe a game-changer for women who have felt broken because they didn't fit the Hollywood version of arousal [1].

The main tool she offers is the Dual Control Model. It compares sexual response to a car with an accelerator and a brake [1]. Most cultural advice is about the accelerator, meaning what turns women on. Nagoski argues that understanding what hits the brakes is equally—if not more—important [1]. The brakes she names are stress, body image issues, past trauma, social messaging and internalized shame, and any of them can all press the brakes hard enough to make desire vanish entirely [1]. According to the summary, this idea alone frees many women from years of guilt and confusion over 'not wanting it enough' [1]. In other words, missing desire is often not a missing accelerator. Something is pressing the brake.

Nagoski puts context at the center. Whether someone feels safe, connected, and valued plays a significant role in whether they feel desire [1]. She also insists that variability is normal: there is no one-size-fits-all libido, and what works for one woman may not work for another, or even for the same woman at different times in her life [1]. She drops the idea of "normal" and puts self-awareness and self-acceptance in its place [1].

Stress gets special attention. Nagoski explains that stress isn't just a mental experience—it's physical, and it needs to be completed through physical activity, emotional processing, and connection [1]. Unresolved stress left in the body becomes a powerful brake on sexual desire. Her techniques for completing the stress cycle include movement, laughter, creative expression and affectionate connection [1].

She also argues for self-compassion. The summary reports that research shows women who treat themselves kindly are more resilient, more sexually satisfied, and more emotionally grounded, and Nagoski offers this phrase to say to yourself: "This is a moment of suffering. Suffering is part of being human. May I be kind to myself in this moment." [1]. On body image, she says better sexual satisfaction doesn't require changing your body—it requires changing your relationship to your body, focusing on how the body feels rather than how it looks [1]. She also asks readers to question the "scripts from purity culture and porn about what sex is supposed" to be, and to write their own [1]. Her closing message ties this back to shame: understanding yourself is what frees you, and the book's refrain is that you are not broken [1].

Vanessa Marin: two sex drives, the standoff, and what to do about it

Vanessa Marin is a licensed psychotherapist and sex therapist with more than 20 years of clinical experience and the author of Sex Talks [2]. On The Mel Robbins Podcast she gives the most detailed and practical account of responsive desire in these sources.

The two types. Marin says the two types differ in "where you feel desire first" [2]. There is mental desire, when "the idea of sex sounds good," and there is physical readiness in the body, "things like getting wet, getting an erection, your bodies are just preparing" [2]. If you're spontaneous, "you're going to feel mental desire first. And it might feel like it kind of comes out of nowhere," and then "your physical arousal follows from that." She adds: "that's how most people think sex drive is supposed to work" [2]. She blames the screen for that expectation: "all the characters have to do is make eye contact with each other and then it's game on" [2].

The other type is one "which most people don't even realize exist in which research shows the vast majority of women, about 85% have responsive sex drive. And it's the exact opposite" [2]. In this pattern, "We feel arousal and desire in our bodies first and then the mental desire follows" [2].

How to recognize it. Marin's test comes straight from ordinary experience: "if you've ever been in the middle of sex, or even at the end of sex, and just like you're saying, you catch yourself thinking, huh, this is really fun. Why don't I seem to want this more often?" [2]. That is exactly Mel Robbins' experience. She says that every time she and her husband Chris have sex, she wonders why they don't do it more [2]. Marin calls it classic responsive desire [2].

Why it gets mistaken for low libido. This is where shame comes in. "Most people who have responsive desire will think of themselves as low or no desire because they're not thinking about sex" [2]. Stop someone with responsive desire on the street and ask whether they want sex right now, and Marin says the answer "99 times out of 100 is going to be no." Her conclusion: "it's not that your desire is low or non-existent. It's just that it operates in a different way. You have to have some physical stimulation first before the idea of sex is going to sound good" [2].

The standoff. Marin describes what happens when both partners work this way. Mel says she texts Chris that they "got to have sex tonight" but doesn't follow through, and suspects they are both responsive: "he probably needs to have me start. I need him to start" [2]. Marin confirms the pattern: "Two people who have responsive desire, it can often feel like a standoff. Like you're kind of waiting for the other person, like, well, I want you to start. Well, I want you to start. And you're both not thinking that often about sex" [2]. This is the failure the insight is about. Two people waiting for a feeling that, for them, only comes after they begin.

Stop expecting to be in the mood. Marin tells couples to "expect not to be in the mood when your partner initiates, because two people rarely think about sex at the same moment" [2]. She describes what this changed for her personally: "rather than putting this pressure on myself to feel like I should be in the mood, now I get to decide, is this something that I'm open to doing?" [2]. She and her husband Xander changed how they initiate to match. Instead of "do you want to have sex," the question became "are you open to being intimate?" [2]. In her words, "just that one word, it totally changes the vibe and it helps you recognize, no, this is just about, like, do I want to create that space with my partner?" [2].

Desire starts outside the bedroom. Marin says the biggest mistake is compartmentalizing: "One of the big mistakes that people make when it comes to sex is we try to compartmentalize it" [2]. In reality, "the level of connection we feel or don't feel with our partner all throughout the day heavily impacts our desire to be intimate with them at the end of the night" [2]. Couples who say they feel "like roommates rather than romantic partners" or "like two ships passing in the night" are, in her view, getting an invitation to look at the whole relationship [2]. Mel sums up the transactional version of marriage: "you're doing life together, but you're not actually doing each other" [2].

Timing and planning. Marin also targets the habit of leaving sex for the end of the night: "That is the worst time for sex. By the time you're crawling into bed, you are exhausted" [2]. She suggests sex as early in the evening as possible, before TV or even before dinner. Mel decides late morning might suit her and Chris best [2]. When Mel pushes back on planning sex, Marin points out that dating was never really spontaneous. Every date was a plan that included the possibility of sex: "We've been scheduling sex our entire relationship" [2]. Because "scheduling sex" scares people, she suggests calling it planning, intentional intimacy or date night, and treating it as a sign that your partner is making time for you [2]. Her top date-night tip follows the same logic: Have sex before you go out on a date, because after a big meal, drinks and tight clothes most people just want pajamas and the couch [2].

Sex gives back energy. Marin also changes how the effort looks. When partners feel truly connected, she says, sex creates more energy, more time and a sense of teamwork [2]. Once, at 5 p.m., she was overwhelmed by the to-do list and wanted to skip the sex they had planned. Xander told her, "You are more important to me than anything on this list." They went to bed together and then tore through the list afterward, feeling like a team [2].

Shared initiation and feeling cared for. Mel admits she doesn't want to be the one who always initiates. She wants to feel desired, and she suspects Chris feels the same [2]. Marin says both partners should share the vulnerability of initiating, and compares it to parenting: you would never tell one partner to take sole responsibility for the kids [2]. She suggests responsive couples plan together, and that each partner name specific things that make them feel cared for during intimacy, such as a real back massage, having their hair brushed, or a bath with 10 minutes alone, so they can relax into receiving [2]. She also mentions transition rituals, small activities that move you from the chaos of the day into connection. For Mel and Chris, that turned out to be the lost habit of cooking dinner together [2]. Mel calls deciding to cook together "intentional," and Marin agrees that "the things that we need to fix intimacy in our relationship are so simple and a lot of us know what they are already. We're just not doing them" [2].

Dry spells, making out and the bristle response. Marin's first advice for a dry spell is to talk about it, because silence leaves a partner wondering whether you still care or are still attracted to them [2]. She and Xander started a nightly make-out ritual. For the first month the rule was no sex afterward, so the kiss was just for connection: "The rule was all that has to happen is there has to be a little tongue contact. So it could be 10 seconds. It could be a couple minutes" [2]. She calls it "a really great way to bring that romance back" [2]. She also coined the term "bristle response" for when "your partner reaches out to touch you and you feel your whole body recoil" [2]. In her words, "what that's often the result of is actually bad initiation." People learn that all touch leads to sex, because partners who feel vulnerable initiate indirectly with "the hug that lingers a little bit longer than it should" [2]. Her fix is more nonsexual touch, plus a temporary agreement that anyone who wants sex will ask with words, so touch can just be enjoyed [2].

Make the sex worth wanting. Marin argues that people focus too much on desire and too little on pleasure. If the sex you're having isn't enjoyable, it makes sense not to crave it [2]. Heterosexual sex tends to center male pleasure and end when he climaxes. She notes the clitoris has an estimated 8,000 to 12,000 nerve endings, compared with relatively few in the vagina [2]. She also says "intercourse in particular lasts on average five minutes," which makes Mel realize that assuming sex must take a long time may be part of what keeps her from initiating [2].

Shame and simple fixes. Marin's framing throughout is about removing shame. "We were not born being ashamed of sex. We were all taught to be," she says [2]. And: "It's just the fact that sex is still so taboo to talk about that leaves us feeling stuck, feeling like we're broken, something's wrong with us and there are no solutions, but there are" [2].

Dr. Emily Morse: desire takes effort, not just flow

Dr. Emily Morse, sex therapist and host of Sex with Emily, appeared on The School of Greatness. She names the myth outright: One of the biggest myths is that healthy desire should be spontaneous and effortless [3]. Her corrections line up with Nagoski's and Marin's: Sexual desire is responsive, not constant—especially for women; Scheduling sex can be healthy, not robotic—it creates anticipation; and physical intimacy should be broad, including touch, cuddling, and sensual connection, not just intercourse [3]. She encourages couples to measure success in the bedroom by connection, presence, and playfulness rather than orgasm count [3].

For Morse, the main thing that decides whether sex survives is communication. She says a lack of communication—not a lack of passion—is what kills sex in relationships, and that people mistakenly believe that if the intimacy fades, the relationship is doomed [3]. This is the same false conclusion the insight warns against: a dip in desire read as a sign of incompatibility. Her 3 T's give the conversation a structure [3]:

• Tone: curiosity, kindness and no blame.
• Timing: avoid hard talks when hungry, angry, lonely or tired (HALT).
• Turf: talk outside the bedroom, on a walk, over dinner or during a drive.

She says these talks are rarely one-time fixes and work instead as ongoing check-ins [3].

Her list of why couples stop having sex also reads like a list of brakes: resentment and emotional disconnection, stress and fatigue (especially after kids or during financial pressure), boredom and lack of novelty, unspoken mismatches in desire, and shame or body image issues [3]. She finds that men and women stop having sex for similar reasons, though the pressures show up differently: performance anxiety for men, body image or emotional shutdown for women [3].

Her tools are about building desire on purpose. There is the "Yes, No, Maybe" list of 80+ activities that partners fill out separately and then compare [3]. There is reflecting on "the three most memorable times you had sex" to spot themes such as spontaneity, risk or deep eye contact [3]. And there is mindful masturbation that lets go of orgasm as the goal and explores touch, breath and sensation, which she sees as a gateway to deeper partner intimacy [3]. Underneath it all is her belief that "Pleasure is your birthright," and her call to heal sexual shame and talk about sex the same way we talk about nutrition, sleep, or wellness [3].

Dr. Laura Berman: desire in long-term love must be cultivated

Dr. Laura Berman, a sex and relationship therapist, also spoke on The School of Greatness. She comes at the topic through emotional connection. She cites national studies showing that the most sexually satisfied women are not those having the most orgasms but those who feel the most emotionally connected to their partner [4]. When sex isn't working, it often reflects deeper emotional disconnection [4].

She is direct about spontaneity: she debunks the myth of spontaneous horniness in long-term love, and says Sexual desire in long-term relationships must be cultivated, not just expected [4]. She says 30% of long-term couples are in sexless marriages, defined as no sex in 10+ months, and that the cause is often not about attraction or love—but accumulated resentment, stress, exhaustion, or shame [4]. She calls a sexless relationship A Signal, Not a Sentence. It's a sign something needs attention, not proof the couple is incompatible [4].

Berman describes a gendered version of the responsive pattern: For women, emotional safety and connection often precede sexual desire. For men (or those in the masculine), sex creates emotional closeness. Left unaddressed, this creates a common stalemate in long-term relationships [4]. That stalemate is close to the standoff Marin describes, reached from a different direction [2][4].

She also names a physical brake. For women especially, stress and emotional exhaustion (from motherhood, work, or identity loss) reduce testosterone and with it, libido [4]. And she sees disconnection from the body as a barrier. Many people, especially women, dissociate during sex because of trauma, shame, cultural conditioning or performance anxiety: "Most of us are walking around not home in our bodies" [4]. Her answer is embodiment. That means breathwork such as the "yoni breath," body scans that notice where emotions live in the body, and practice staying present in physical experience even outside of sex [4]. On shame she says: "Shame, when exposed to the light, evaporates" [4].

Where They Agree, and Where They Don't

Where they agree

Spontaneous desire is not the only healthy pattern, and often not the most common one. Nagoski says responsive desire is actually more common, especially in long-term relationships [1]. Marin cites research that about 85% of women have responsive sex drive [2]. Morse calls the belief that healthy desire should be spontaneous and effortless one of the biggest myths [3]. Berman debunks the myth of spontaneous horniness in long-term love [4]. All four challenge the "Hollywood" or "TV" picture of desire [1][2].

Waiting for the mood is a trap. Marin describes the standoff between two responsive partners [2]. Berman describes a stalemate between partners whose desire starts in different places [4]. Morse says desire "requires effort" [3], and Berman says it must be cultivated, not just expected [4].

The problem is usually not incompatibility. Morse warns against assuming a relationship is doomed when intimacy fades [3]. Berman calls a sexless relationship a signal, not a sentence, and says it is often not about attraction or love [4]. Marin says people feel "broken" and "something's wrong with us" only because sex is taboo to talk about, and that solutions exist [2]. Nagoski's whole book comes down to you're not broken [1].

Connection and context feed desire. Nagoski says feeling safe, connected and valued shapes desire [1]. Marin says connection "all throughout the day" affects desire at night [2]. Morse puts resentment and emotional disconnection first among the reasons couples stop [3]. Berman makes emotional connection the top predictor of women's sexual satisfaction [4].

Stress and shame act as brakes. Nagoski's brakes (stress, body image, trauma, shame) [1], Morse's reasons couples stop (stress, fatigue, shame, body image) [3], Berman's causes of sexlessness (resentment, stress, exhaustion, shame) [4] and Marin's exhaustion barrier and trauma discussion [2] largely overlap.

Planning is legitimate. Marin says couples have always scheduled sex [2]. Morse says scheduling "creates anticipation" [3].

Where they differ

What comes first: the body or the heart? Marin's model is mostly physical. With responsive desire you need "some physical stimulation first before the idea of sex is going to sound good" [2]. Berman's version is emotional. For women, emotional safety and connection often precede sexual desire [4]. Nagoski covers both, saying responsive desire develops in response to arousal or emotional connection [1]. Marin also allows for both routes elsewhere. She says people tend to fall into two camps, those who need emotional intimacy before physical intimacy and those for whom physical intimacy opens up emotional closeness, and she asks partners to find out which one they are [2]. The difference matters in practice. If your desire follows arousal, starting with touch or a make-out may be the way in. If it follows connection, a transition ritual or a real conversation may need to come first. Neither side says the other is wrong. They stress different doorways into the same responsive pattern.

How gendered is it? Berman frames the split along gender lines: women need connection first, and for men sex creates emotional closeness [4]. Marin's 85% figure also points to women, but her standoff example involves both Mel and Chris as responsive, a woman and a man [2]. Morse says responsive desire is "especially" common for women, yet finds that men and women stop having sex for similar reasons [3]. Nagoski's book is about female sexuality and says variability is normal even within one woman across her life [1]. So they agree the responsive pattern is common in women, but they don't agree on how cleanly it divides by gender. Berman draws the sharpest line. Marin and Nagoski leave more room for individual variation.

How much weight on the mechanism vs. the history? Marin and Morse focus on practical adjustments like timing, wording, planning, lists and rituals [2][3]. Berman puts more weight on healing trauma and becoming embodied before intimacy can flow [4]. Nagoski sits between them with both the stress cycle and self-compassion [1]. These are differences of emphasis, not contradictions. Marin herself recommends personal therapy for anyone who has gone through trauma [2].

Numbers. Only Marin gives a figure for how common responsive desire is (about 85% of women) [2]. The others describe it as "more common" or especially for women without a number [1][3]. The sources also define a dry spell or sexless relationship differently. Marin says there is no official definition, notes that some therapists use a year and that many people feel three to six months is a dry spell [2]. Berman uses no sex in 10+ months [4].

Why It Works

The sources give several mechanisms for why building desire on purpose succeeds where waiting fails.

Order of operations. For people with responsive desire, arousal comes before wanting: "We feel arousal and desire in our bodies first and then the mental desire follows" [2]. If you wait for mental desire before doing anything, you are waiting for the second step in a sequence that needs the first step to start. That's why the person who says no on the street, "99 times out of 100" [2], may find in the middle of sex that "this is really fun" [2]. The desire was there. It needed a starting point.

Accelerators and brakes. Nagoski's Dual Control Model explains why desire can disappear even when attraction is intact. The brakes (stress, body image, trauma, social messaging and shame) can be pressed hard enough to make desire vanish entirely [1]. Building desire on purpose therefore works two ways: add stimulation and connection (the accelerator) and remove what presses the brake. Berman adds a physical route for the brake: stress and emotional exhaustion reduce testosterone and with it, libido [4]. Nagoski adds that stress is physical and needs to be completed through movement, emotional processing and connection, or it keeps braking desire [1].

Context and daily connection. Because desire depends on feeling safe, connected, and valued [1], what happens during the day decides what is possible at night [2]. Berman's national studies tie women's sexual satisfaction more to emotional connection than to orgasms [4]. Marin's daily habits aim at the same thing: gratitude, which she says research shows "is actually the number one predictor of marital satisfaction"; a six-second kiss and a 20 to 30 second hug, which she says is how long it takes to release oxytocin; and eye contact [2].

Pressure and wording. Expecting to feel desire on demand adds pressure. Marin found that dropping the expectation "really brought the pressure down for me," turning the question into whether she was "open" rather than whether she was already in the mood [2]. The bristle response shows the opposite. When all touch feels like a bid for sex, the body recoils, and nonsexual touch disappears [2]. Separating touch from sex lets it become a source of connection again [2].

Energy and timing. Exhaustion is a brake, so moving intimacy away from bedtime removes an obstacle rather than asking for more willpower [2]. Marin also says connected sex creates energy and teamwork, not just using up time [2].

Pleasure makes desire worth having. Marin argues that if sex isn't enjoyable, it makes sense not to crave it [2]. Morse redefines success as connection, presence and playfulness [3], and Nagoski points to focusing on how the body feels rather than how it looks [1]. Better experiences give responsive desire more to respond to.

Shame shrinks when it's discussed. Nagoski says the reframe frees women from years of guilt [1]. Marin says taboo is what "leaves us feeling stuck, feeling like we're broken" [2]. Berman says shame exposed to the light "evaporates" [4]. Once responsive desire is understood as normal, the problem stops being what's wrong with me and becomes what do we need to get started.

Where It Applies, and Where It Doesn't

Long-term relationships. Nagoski says responsive desire is especially common in long-term relationships [1], and Berman's point about cultivation is specifically about "long-term love" [4]. Marin notes that many people in long-term relationships feel almost cheated and believe disconnection is just what relationships become. She insists it isn't [2]. Couples who feel like roommates, exhausted parents and empty nesters are the clearest cases [2][3][4].

People who think they have "low" or "no" desire. If you enjoy sex once it starts but rarely think about it beforehand, the sources suggest this may be responsive desire rather than missing desire [2].

Singles. Marin says being single is an ideal time to learn these skills, since dynamics are harder to untangle after decades together [2].

It doesn't mean pushing through a brake that signals something serious. The sources are clear that some brakes need more than planning. Trauma can make the body treat sex as unsafe even when a person knows they are safe with their partner, as Mel describes from her own life [2]. For survivors, Marin advises letting them be in control and initiate for a while, asking "Does this feel good?" rather than just whether something is okay, and pausing to check in if a partner seems to disconnect. She recommends personal therapy for anyone who has gone through trauma [2]. Berman says healing unresolved trauma is the foundation for sexual wholeness and warns against bypassing pain through positive thinking or numbing [4].

It doesn't replace fixing the relationship. Resentment, disconnection and boredom show up in Morse's and Berman's lists of why sex stops [3][4]. Building desire on purpose works alongside repairing those, not instead of repairing them. Marin frames a struggling sex life as an invitation to look at the relationship as a whole [2].

It doesn't mean going along with sex you don't want. Marin's "are you open" framing asks whether you are willing to create space for connection. It isn't an obligation. Her make-out ritual deliberately ruled out sex for a month [2]. Morse's "Maybe" category and Nagoski's emphasis on context and self-acceptance point the same way [1][3].

Individual variation. Nagoski is clear that no single pattern fits everyone, or even one person across their life [1]. Some people do feel spontaneous desire. The point is not that everyone is responsive. It's that responsive desire is normal and shouldn't be treated as a defect [1][2].

If desire has disappeared suddenly, if pain or trauma is involved, or if stress and exhaustion feel overwhelming, it's worth seeing a doctor, a licensed sex therapist or a mental health professional, since the sources point to hormonal, emotional and trauma-related causes that deserve individual care [2][4].

What To Do With It

1. Check whether you have responsive desire. Ask yourself whether you often think, in the middle of sex or afterward, "this is really fun. Why don't I seem to want this more often?" If so, stop treating that as low libido and see it as desire that "operates in a different way" [2].

2. Change how you ask. Replace "do you want to have sex?" with "are you open to being intimate?" or "are you open to connecting later today?", and don't expect either of you to already be in the mood when someone initiates [2].

3. Plan it, and move it earlier. Put intimacy on the calendar and call it planning, intentional intimacy or date night if "scheduling" feels unromantic [2]. Avoid bedtime, "the worst time for sex" [2]. Try early evening, before dinner, late morning, or before you go out on a date [2]. Morse notes that scheduling "creates anticipation" [3].

4. Share initiation. If you're both responsive and stuck waiting for each other, agree to take turns starting and to plan together, so the vulnerability of initiating doesn't fall on one person [2].

5. Start a no-pressure touch ritual. Try a nightly make-out lasting anywhere from 10 seconds to a couple of minutes, with a rule of no sex afterward for the first month [2]. Add daily nonsexual contact such as a six-second kiss and a 20 to 30 second hug, plus a moment of gratitude and real eye contact [2]. If touch makes either of you bristle, agree for a while that anyone who wants sex will ask with words [2].

6. Build connection during the day with a transition ritual. Pick one small shared activity, like cooking dinner together, that moves you from the chaos of the day into connection. Tell each other what on an ordinary Tuesday evening would make you feel a little closer [2].

7. Find and release the brakes. List what's pressing your brakes: stress, body image, resentment, exhaustion, shame [1][3][4]. Complete the stress cycle with movement, laughter, creative expression or affectionate connection [1]. Try Berman's embodiment practices, such as breathwork and body scans, to be more "home" in your body [4].

8. Talk about it the right way. Use Morse's 3 T's (kind tone, good timing, outside the bedroom) [3]. If you're drifting into a dry spell, say so, acknowledging that life has been full and that you miss your partner [2]. Try the "Yes, No, Maybe" list or share your three most memorable sexual experiences to find what builds desire for each of you [3].

9. Make the sex worth wanting. Put both partners' pleasure first, drop the idea that sex has to take a long time, and judge success by connection, presence and playfulness rather than performance [2][3].

10. Be kind to yourself. When shame or frustration shows up, use Nagoski's self-compassion phrase: "This is a moment of suffering. Suffering is part of being human. May I be kind to myself in this moment." [1]. If trauma is part of the picture, get personal therapy and let your partner support you at your pace [2][4].

Sources

1. Come As You Are ·
2. Your Guide to Better Sex, Intimacy & Love From a World-Leading Sex Therapist · The Mel Robbins Podcast
3. Create Intimacy & Upgrade Your Sex Life with Dr. Emily Morse · The School of Greatness
4. How to Create a Lasting Relationship & Build Intimacy with Dr. Laura Berman · The School of Greatness