You've probably got this email open on your phone right now. Maybe in bed. Maybe on the sofa. Maybe in the car while the kids are in football practice. And there's a part of you that already knows what this email is about. You can feel it coming. The bit where she invites me to book a call! And you're already rehearsing the reasons you won't. "I'm not ready." "It's not that bad." "I'll think about it."

I know. I hear those reasons every day.

Can I tell you what's on the other side of them?

"I'm not ready"

This is the one I hear most. And I understand it. Because "ready" feels like a thing you should be before you pick up the phone. Like you need to have your thoughts in order. Your feelings figured out and a clear sense of what you want from the conversation.

You don't.

Every single woman who's ever booked a call with me has started with some version of "I don't really know what to say" or "I'm not sure where to begin." That's normal. That's expected. That's literally what the call is for! I’m very used to guiding people through the conversation.

I would argue that readiness isn't a feeling you arrive at. It's a decision you make while still feeling scared. Every woman I told you about last week, including Sarah, was not ready. She just got tired of waiting to be.

"It's not that bad"

This one is sneaky. Because it sounds reasonable, measured and proportionate.

But let me ask you something… If your best friend described your situation to you, word for word, the fading desire, the guilt, the distance, the quiet grief of a relationship that still has love but has lost intimacy... would you tell her it's "not that bad"?

Or would you tell her she deserves more than that?

The women I work with aren't in crisis. Their relationships aren't falling apart. They're not on the verge of divorce (Ok, some are). They're just... stuck. In a version of their relationship that's functional but not intimate. Loving but not connected. Fine, but not alive.

"Not that bad" is how you describe something you've learned to live with. It's not how you describe something that's actually okay.

"I'll think about it"

You've been thinking about it. That's why you opened this email. That's why you read the one about your evenings and felt your chest tighten. That's why you read about responsive desire and felt something shift. That's why Sarah's story stayed with you longer than you expected.

Thinking isn't what's missing! Permission is.

So here it is. You have permission to care about this. You have permission to want more from your sex life, your intimacy, your connection with your partner. You have permission to stop quietly adapting and start doing something about it.

"It'll be awkward"

I won't lie to you. The first two minutes can be. You're talking to a stranger about the most private part of your life.

But here's what happens. About three minutes in, you realise I'm not shocked. I'm not judging. I've heard this before. Many, many times. And suddenly the awkwardness becomes something else. Relief. Because you're finally saying the thing you've been carrying in silence and the person on the other end is just... nodding. Getting it. Not flinching.

Almost every woman I speak to says the same thing afterwards: "That was so much easier than I expected." Or: "I can't believe I nearly didn't do this."

The most comfortable uncomfortable conversation you'll ever have. That's my promise.

"What if it doesn't work for me?"

This is the fear underneath all the other fears. The one that really keeps you up at night. What if I try and nothing changes? What if my situation is different? What if I'm the exception?

I can't promise you a specific outcome. That wouldn't be honest. What I can promise you is this: understanding why your desire disappeared and what it actually needs to come back is never wasted. Even if the only thing that changes is that you stop blaming yourself, that alone is worth twenty minutes of your time.

But honestly? That's rarely the only thing that changes. Because once the shame lifts, once the misunderstanding clears, things tend to move faster than you'd expect. Just like they did for Sarah. Just like they have for hundreds of women who started exactly where you are right now.

Here's what happens next

A discovery call is 20 minutes. It's free. It's just me and you on a video call.

I'll ask you a few questions about where you're at. You'll tell me as much or as little as you're comfortable with. I'll be honest about whether I think working together would help. And by the end, you'll have clarity. Either way.

If you've read this month's emails and thought "she's talking about me"... she was. And this is your permission to do something about it.

Warmly, Lexy 🧡

p.s. Want daily tips on sex, desire, and feeling at home in your body? Come follow us on Instagram. 50,000 women already have. 👉 follow us