For years, men and women have come to my clinic telling me that something about their sexuality "isn't right." Sometimes it ia a decline in desire. Other times it is erectile difficulties, pain during intercourse, trouble reaching orgasm or a feeling that sex is no longer satisfying.
In every course of treatment, after first making space for the person's distress, I try to understand the broader picture: What was their sex life like in the past? What has changed over the years? And how has all of this affected them individually and their relationship?
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the problem is not only about sexuality itself. It is also about the expectations people place on themselves
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More often than not, I discover that the problem is not only about sexuality itself. It is also about the expectations people place on themselves. They are preoccupied with questions such as: Am I good enough for her? Is our sex lasting long enough? Am I lasting long enough? Does she find me attractive? Was I able to satisfy her? And so on.
In other words, instead of being present in the experience itself, they are focused on what they think they are supposed to do in bed. They measure themselves by performance instead of by sensation, connection and pleasure. This is one of the defining effects of the sexual culture we live in.
This phenomenon, in which people observe and evaluate themselves during sex instead of immersing themselves in the experience, is known as spectatoring. Studies show that people who repeatedly focus on questions about themselves and their sexual performance tend to feel greater pressure during sex. Not surprisingly, they also experience less pleasure and, in some cases, sexual dysfunction. In a culture that teaches us to measure sexuality by performance, it is easy to see how we become our own harshest critics instead of fully participating in an intimate, connecting moment.
The sexual script we all follow
Most of us think we choose how to have sex, or at least decide which sexual acts to engage in throughout the encounter. In research, we refer to these patterns as sexual scripts.
These scripts are systems of messages and expectations that we internalize throughout our lives about what sexuality is "supposed" to look like. We are not born with them. They develop over time.
Many of us operate according to what we have seen in movies and television, on social media, from friends describing their sexual experiences, from the messages we've received about sexuality and from pornography.
Together, these influences shape a sexual script in which "good" sex is expected to look a certain way: it begins spontaneously, quickly progresses to intercourse and ends with orgasm and a sense of success. The problem is that this script does not always match what we actually need in the moment.
Shelly VarodPhoto: Noi ArkobiA performance-centered script misses the essence of connection. It often overlooks authentic experiences such as embarrassment or emotional overwhelm triggered by physical touch, bursts of emotion like laughter or tears and sexual communication that focuses not on how long you last or how to perform oral sex, but on the inner experience being created.
By contrast, a script built around connection allows us to exercise sexual agency. In other words, it gives us the ability to express what we want to experience in that moment, set boundaries when necessary and say things like, "Let's take a moment," "Let's slow things down," or "Today I just want us to spend a lot of time kissing."
Recreating porn instead of making love
As a researcher of pornography and sexual behavior, I have learned that repeated exposure to pornography can shape unrealistic expectations about our sexuality, especially when it becomes the primary source of sexual education.
That does not mean everyone who watches pornography will develop unrealistic beliefs. But for some people, it creates the expectation that sex should look like it does in porn: focused on appearance and performance, with less emotional communication and an emphasis on exaggerated reactions such as loud moaning and sighing.
In my clinic, I see how deeply this pornographic script influences the way people perceive sexuality. Not because they do not understand that pornography is designed to create arousal, but because many come to see it as the model for pleasurable sex.
When we are busy trying to recreate the pornographic script, we risk distancing ourselves from the experience itself. That means less presence, less attentiveness and less room for emotional and intimate connection.
Sexuality is a meeting between two people, and it exists within the context of a relationship. Quite often, that relationship also includes feelings of affection, falling in love and love itself.
Making love is not a different kind of sex. It is a different experience by choice.
When I talk about "making love," I am not referring to a different type of sex. I am talking about a different way of being present in a sexual encounter. Making love is less about what we do and more about how we feel and connect with each other. It is about being able to pause and really look at one another.
Making love is not a different kind of sex. It is a different experience by choice
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Making love is not defined by a particular position, the duration of an orgasm or the number of positions you try. It is defined primarily by the quality of the connection between two people, by the ability to respond to what the other person's body or emotions are asking for in that moment and by feeling safe enough to be authentic, even in moments of vulnerability.
That connection can take the form of slow, sensual sex, French kissing, gentle caresses, sustained eye contact or simply staying with whatever is happening instead of rushing to the next stage.
Not because we need to "succeed," but because we want to feel and stay connected. It means listening to the other person's body as well as our own. Sometimes that means the pace changes during sex, or the type of touch or the level of physical closeness shifts.
Making love means knowing when to pause and listen. It means understanding that what worked a year ago may not work today. Our bodies change, our desire changes, life changes and our sexuality changes along with them.
In my clinic, I see time and again that couples who maintain closeness over many years are not necessarily those who have the "best sex." They are the ones who can talk openly about what feels good, what has changed, what they need now and who can truly listen to each other.
And that isnot just what I observe in my practice.
Research supports it as well. A meta-analysis of 93 studies involving more than 38,000 participants found that sexual communication is associated with both greater sexual satisfaction and higher relationship satisfaction. Particularly noteworthy was that the number of conversations was not the most important factor. Rather, it was their quality, specifically whether partners could speak openly, feel emotionally safe and express their desires, needs and concerns without fear of criticism.
So what does it take to make love?
If you ask me, it begins the moment we stop asking, "How did I do?" and start asking, "How did you feel?" or "What felt good for you?"
Shelly Varod is a psychosexologist and certified sex therapist. She lectures and coordinates the sexuality studies program at the Gray Faculty of Medical and Health Sciences at Tel Aviv University. She is also a doctoral candidate in the Sexuality Research Lab at the University of Haifa and chair of the Uncovered Podcast of the International Society for Sexual Medicine (ISSM) Education Committee.