Even after 35 years of marriage, I regularly daydream about my wife. Often, when we are pottering around the house together, I undress Celine in my head. She laughs when I tell her what I’m imagining. My libido is something we joke about, because I generally crave sex more than Celine does. Over the decades I have had to find ways to dissipate some of my sexual energy. Masturbation is an outlet. I’ve also got really into cycling.
My libido has tailed off a bit in recent years, whereas Celine’s hasn’t. My metabolism has slowed down so I’m not strutting around the bed like a young stud any more; I’m under the covers. Usually, all Celine has to do to snap me out of my body-insecurity is to crawl between the sheets and give me a cuddle. I feel on more shaky ground because I’m not as virile as I once was, but it’s nice that Celine’s sex drive and my own are now more evenly matched.
I began to think about my sex drive in more technical terms, which helped take the emotion out of the issue