Why Your Marriage Failed? It’s Not Her… You’re Sh*t in Bed and a Terrible Husband

Why Your Marriage Failed? Men want a freak, but women want a king. Sorry 🙁

It’s hard to experience desire when you’re weighted down by concern.

Esther Perel

Start With the Mirror

If your sex life is flat, start with the mirror. Not because you’re evil or unlovable, but because the person demanding more heat is responsible for the climate where heat can actually survive. You don’t wring wildness out of a partner like water from a cloth; you cultivate it like a gardener who understands soil, shade, and season. The paradox is merciless: the woman you want to meet in bed—the uninhibited, greedy, playful one—steps forward when she feels like a queen outside the bedroom. No amount of pressure, guilt, withholding, or jealousy can counterfeit the safety that unlocks her desire. This isn’t morality. It’s mechanics.

Most men who complain about a cold bed are trying to harvest without planting. They fantasise about a lover who will devour them at night and then endure sarcasm, distance, and emotional carelessness by day. They want to skip the line. But erotic freedom is not a lucky accident; it’s the predictable result of reliability, respect, and repair—repeated so consistently that her nervous system stops bracing. If you treat a woman like she’s disposable from Monday to Friday, she will not become your fantasy on Saturday night. You can force a performance. You will never get surrender.

Check here to read more of my articles on Gender Equality.

Safety Is a Sequence, Not a Vibe

Safety isn’t candles and a playlist; it’s a repeatable sequence her body can trust. Treat her like a queen → she relaxes. She relaxes → curiosity returns. Curiosity → play. Play → praise and tenderness → the cycle strengthens. Break the order—demand the freak before you’ve earned the queen—and the engine floods. Desire turns dutiful. Touch becomes a negotiation. You start mistaking anxiety for spark because your tactics create cortisol and call it chemistry.

There’s biology under the poetry. Sex is high exposure. For many women, peak arousal requires a nervous-system switch from guard to open, and that switch only holds if the aftermath is safe. No one gets punished for “no”. The tender experiment isn’t mocked the next morning. Closeness today doesn’t become leverage tomorrow. Her body remembers patterns more stubbornly than your mind recalls promises. If closeness with you has meant fallout in the past, she will brace before you touch her. You don’t argue with bracing; you remove the need for it.

Context is the control knob. The same act can feel thrilling in a sturdy container and violating in a shaky one. The “container” is the accumulated weight of your everyday behaviour: tone, consistency, follow-through, accountability. Get the container right and more becomes possible with less effort. Get it wrong and even “vanilla” feels like a risk.

Character is Foreplay

Candles are décor. Character is foreplay. Do you keep your word on small things? Apologise without theatrics when you’re wrong? Keep a kind tone when you’re frustrated? Carry your share of the invisible work—planning, cleaning, life admin—without being begged? This is the stuff that turns down her threat signals. If she spends her day mothering a man who calls himself her king, her libido learns a bleak lesson: desire him, lose yourself. There is nothing erotic about disappearing.

There’s also the old split that haunts bedrooms: respect the “good” woman, desire the “bad” one. If you pedestal her at breakfast and crave a stranger by dusk, you’ve divided her into two women who cannot exist in the same skin. Maturity is union: honour and desire the same person. Devotion isn’t the opposite of filth; it’s the safety harness that lets you both lean over the edge. When a woman is treasured, she can choose the “bad”: role-play, roughness, power exchange, dirty talk—without humiliation, because her dignity is not up for negotiation. That is the difference between performance and play: one is fear management; the other is freedom.

Praise is the quiet engine that multiplies everything you want more of. Vague compliments make people perform; precise appreciation makes them remember. “That was hot” is air. “When you took my face in your hand and held eye contact, my chest lit up—more of that” is oxygen. Praise during calibrates; praise after anchors the memory as “hot and safe”, which is exactly what her body needs to risk again.

Lead Without Pressure

Leadership is a clear invitation with room for a no. Pressure is a demand dressed as romance. Leadership watches her breathing, notices when her shoulders release, hears the difference between a moan and a wince, and understands that “slow” is a method, not a delay. Pressure ploughs ahead, confuses tension with turn-on, and punishes boundaries. You can’t lead in bed if you can’t be trusted out of it.

Aftercare is where most men fumble, because they think intensity ends when bodies separate. But every flight needs a landing. Without a soft landing, the next take-off costs more. Aftercare is not a perfunctory cuddle; it’s water, warmth, and words that tell her nervous system, file this as hot and safe. It’s: “You were devastating when you did X. Anything you’d tweak next time?” It’s a follow-up message the next day: “Still thinking about the way you looked at me.” Skip this and you ask her body to pay extra for tomorrow’s desire.

Successful long-term relationships are created through small words, small gestures, and small acts.

John Gottman

Ditch the shortcuts. Jealousy games and strategic distance work fast—on fear. They burn dirty and leave ash, and the smell of ash in a relationship is cynicism: the sense that love is leverage with perfume on it. If you want edge, be explicit instead. “Tonight I want to be bossy. Are you up for that?” Name limits. Agree on a safe word or simple traffic lights (green/yellow/red). Check in mid-scene—“Colour?”—and adjust instantly if she says yellow. Then land the plane gently and praise exactly what you adored. That’s how adults do danger.

And about porn: it teaches choreography, not attunement. Inspiration is fine, but a browser tab is a lousy director. Learn the living person. Notice that when you halved your pace her hands unclenched; when your eyes drifted she vanished into her head; when you praised her voice, she risked using it more. Become a student of her responses. Take notes, not offence.

Make It Sustainable: Repair, Rhythm, and a 30-Day Shift

Grand gestures are easy. Consistency is hard. The bed doesn’t read your receipts; it reads your rhythm. A cup of tea delivered without expectation often does more for libido than a speech attached to a demand. A swift, sincere apology renews more desire than a dozen bouquets deployed to erase a fight you refused to own.

Everyone gets it wrong. Competence is how fast you find the rupture, acknowledge the impact, state your intention, and tend with action. “I went cold after you said no. That was punishing. You must have felt small. I won’t do that again; next time I’ll say, ‘Got it—tea or water?’” That isn’t weakness; that’s safety creation. In bed, competence reads as safety. Safety reads as permission. Permission reads as play.

If you’re serious, give yourselves thirty days of quiet climate change—no grand announcement, just new weather:

• Daily rhythm: Keep small promises. Remove one task from her day without being asked. Offer non-sexual touch with no angle.
• Clean desire: Speak wants as invitations, not invoices. “Would you enjoy it if I…?” lands; “Since I did X, can we…?” poisons.
• One designed scene per week: Pre-frame roles, agree limits, check in once, do real aftercare, then debrief with “favourite moment + one tweak”.
• Praise precisely: Name what lit you up so tomorrow’s body remembers.
• Body basics: Sleep, hygiene, breath. Presence requires a regulated system. Don’t try to be erotic when you’re running on fumes and resentment.

Something else happens when you do this: your own erotic life deepens. When you stop hustling for sex like a thirsty salesman, you have space to feel your partner’s power—and your own. Leadership becomes capacity, not control. Generosity becomes more satisfying than bargaining. The bed feels bigger because you are bigger.

This isn’t a manifesto against women’s responsibility; it’s a call for men to shoulder theirs without keeping score. Your steadiness won’t cure trauma or exhaustion, but it gives healing a chance. If, after real effort over real time, there’s no reciprocity, then you can make decisions with dignity instead of bitterness. Either way, your presence becomes a gift, not a gamble.

Bottom Line

If you’re “not getting enough”, stop auditioning for sympathy and start doing the work. She isn’t a vending machine you didn’t feed enough coins into; she’s a human being with a body that remembers and a heart smarter than your excuses. Make her safe without making her small. Devote yourself without turning it into a bargain. Lead with patience. Earn the scene. And when she finally brings you the wildness you wanted, meet it with reverence.

You want a freak? Be a king. Simple.

References

Easton, D., & Hardy, J. W. (2003). The new topping book. Greenery Press.

Gottman, J., & Gottman, J. S. (2019). Eight dates: Essential conversations for a lifetime of love. Workman Publishing Company.

Johnson, S. (2008). Hold me tight: Seven conversations for a lifetime of love. Little, Brown Spark.

Kerner, I. (2019). She comes first: The thinking man’s guide to pleasuring a woman (Rev. ed.). Harper.

Levine, A., & Heller, R. (2010). Attached: The new science of adult attachment and how it can help you find—and keep—love. TarcherPerigee.

Mintz, L. M. (2017). Becoming cliterate: Why orgasm equality matters—and how to get it. HarperOne.

Morin, J. (1995). The erotic mind: Unlocking the inner sources of passion and fulfillment. HarperPerennial.

Nagoski, E. (2021). Come as you are: Revised and updated: The surprising new science that will transform your sex life. Simon & Schuster.

Perel, E. (2006). Mating in captivity: Unlocking erotic intelligence. Harper.

Rosenberg, M. B. (2015). Nonviolent communication: A language of life (3rd ed.). PuddleDancer Press.

Schnarch, D. M. (2009). Passionate marriage: Sex, love, and intimacy in emotionally committed relationships. W. W. Norton & Company.

Thank You for Reading!

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If you’re interested in diving deeper into topics like this, don’t forget to check out the Donc Voila Quoi Podcast, where I discuss these ideas in more detail. You can also follow me on Pinterest @doncvoilaquoi and Instagram @jessielouisevernon, though my accounts have been shut down before (like my old @doncvoilaquoi on Instagram), so keep an eye out for updates.