People-Pleasing and Sex
Why You Struggle to Put Yourself First or Say What You Want When It Comes to Sex
Sex is one of the most intimate things we can experience, but for people-pleasers, it can become another place you lose yourself. And not in the throes of passion - but in self-silencing, self-sacrificing, and going along with things that don’t feel okay..
When I mentioned on Instagram that alongside my EMDR, Schema Therapy and CBT training I was also a qualified Psychosexual Therapist and Sex and Porn Addiction Counsellor, I got a lot of messages asking me to do a podcast episode on the subject. That’s in the works at the moment, but in the meantime I thought it would be helpful to do a blog post on the topic.
Because let’s be honest, if being a people-pleaser means you struggle to say ‘no’, then this is going to show up around sex. People-pleasing doesn’t switch off just because you’re naked - if anything, it’s likely to ramp up a notch.
If you’ve ever gone along with sex you didn’t fully want, stayed silent about what doesn’t feel good, or performed instead of actually feeling anything... you’re not alone. And more importantly, you’re not broken.
Your body isn’t betraying you. It’s trying to protect you.
This isn’t about being frigid, dramatic, ungrateful, or “too difficult” or "too sensitive."
It’s about safety, survival, and self-worth.
People-Pleasing in the Bedroom: What It Actually Looks Like
It’s not always obvious that you’re people-pleasing. You might:
Say yes because you think you should, even when your body’s saying no
Tell yourself it’s “not a big deal” even though you feel off afterwards
Try to just "get on with it" to avoid disappointing someone
Perform enjoyment instead of voicing discomfort
Initiate sex when you don’t want to, because you don’t want your partner to feel bad or think you’ve gone off them
It might also look like:
Feeling like you should have sex after five dates, even if you’re unsure
Having a drink so you’ll feel less pressure and more up for it
Feeling guilty not having sex after your partner's splashed out on a weekend away
Having ‘casual sex’ because, in the moment, it feels good to be wanted – but later you feel disconnected, dysregulated, anxious, cringe or unsure why you said yes
Offering hugs hoping it won’t escalate… then regretting it when it does
Whether it’s a long-term partner, a one-night stand, or a situationship, this isn’t just about how well you know them.
It’s about how emotionally safe you feel - and how safe you feel being yourself.
Because even in long-term relationships, years of giving more than you get, shelving your needs, or putting their comfort first can quietly build up resentment.
You might feel touched out, switched off, or low on desire - not because you’re broken, but because your body is exhausted from keeping the peace.
And let’s not forget: you’re also allowed to want sex. Deeply. Passionately. Just for the fun of it. To want pleasure. And yet, so many women carry shame for desiring it, too. You might feel caught between “I should want it more” and “I shouldn’t want it at all.”
Desire begins with safety, not performance.
Where This Pattern Comes From
Sometimes it began with a specific experience. But often, it started way before that.
Maybe you were rewarded for being "low maintenance." Maybe your boundaries were ignored or punished. Maybe you learned your role was to make others comfortable, even at your own expense.
Maybe the external validation that came with being wanted felt so good that it overrode any doubt or reluctance.
Your nervous system got the message: keep the peace. Don’t rock the boat. Be agreeable. Be what they want and you’ll be accepted Submit, suppress, sacrifice and you’ll be wanted.
So in emotionally vulnerable moments, like sex, it fawns. It appeases. It performs. Even when your inner voice says: this isn’t okay, I don’t really want this.
If you’re neurodivergent, that pressure can intensify:
Overthinking what your partner is feeling
Masking your own discomfort
Ignoring sensory struggles
Worrying they’ll think you’re weird if you seem different
Increased worry about being rejected
Trying to “get it right” instead of tuning into what you actually want
Struggling to recognise what you want in the first place, especially if you’ve learned to disconnect from your body
Relying on scripts or mimicking what you think sex “should” look like, even when it doesn’t feel authentic
Feeling emotionally flooded, shutdown or dissociative afterwards, then blaming yourself for not doing it “right”
And all of this is happening internally — often without anyone else realising — because you’ve become so good at masking it.
And when you’re already disconnected from your body or needs, it’s even harder to tell where your desires end and others’ expectations begin.
Now layer on top:
Sex education that skips over emotional safety entirely
Media that tells us good sex is always effortless, always wanted, always hot
Messages — spoken and unspoken — that say “you’re supposed to” do this or that, or risk losing love… or being seen as ‘different’
No wonder your body checks out. No wonder you learned to override.
And this can happen no matter who you're with. Some women people-please through sex that doesn’t quite feel aligned because questioning who you’re attracted to can feel overwhelming - especially if you’ve never had permission to explore it safely.
Sometimes it’s not just about sex - it’s about the relationship underneath it.
You might find yourself wondering: “Is it me? What’s wrong with me? Is it that I’m just not into sex anymore?”
But what if your disinterest is actually a signal that something deeper feels off? Maybe there’s a lack of emotional safety, unmet needs, or a dynamic that no longer feels aligned. Maybe there’s a good reason you don’t feel emotionally safe.
And here’s something many women don’t realise until they pause long enough to really feel it:
You might be tired of always giving. Of being the one who adjusts, accommodates, initiates, forgives. You might be craving softness, slowness, or just someone checking in with you for once.
Not feeling “in the mood” isn’t always about desire - sometimes, it’s about depletion. You’re not broken. You’re running on empty.
When you’ve been taught to keep others happy, even getting curious about your disinterest - or questioning whether you feel truly connected - can feel disloyal., or bring up guilt and shame. You might even label yourself as having a “low sex drive” or being “just not into it,” without ever exploring what desire might feel like when it’s safe, mutual, and pressure-free.
Getting curious about this doesn’t have to be about blaming your partner - it’s about listening to yourself. Your body might be trying to tell you something you’ve spent years learning to override.
And if you're not sure what your body is trying to tell you, that makes sense too. It's hard to hear yourself when you've been overriding your needs for years
These kinds of questions; about what you really want, how safe you feel, and whether you're truly connected - don’t just stay in your head. They show up in your body. In how you respond. In what you override..
Some say yes, but freeze inside. Others avoid initiating even when they want to, because needing something feels too exposing. Some go along with pain or discomfort because they don’t want to seem “too much” or “difficult.”
If you live with pain, chronic illness, or disability, you might push through just to prove you're still easy-going or desirable. That can turn intimacy into endurance.
If you're someone who grew up in a faith-based, working-class, or culturally conservative home, the messages around pleasure might run even deeper. Who gets to enjoy sex? Who's allowed to initiate? What does being "respectable" even mean?
Sometimes it’s not even sex itself that’s scary - it’s the intimacy. The exposure. The vulnerability. The eye contact. Because it doesn’t feel safe to be seen.
You’re not cold. You’re not a bad partner.
You’re someone who’s learned that being loved means being liked, being easy, being accommodating.
So you smile. You perform. You say “maybe later” and hope that’ll be enough.
But your body knows. It always has.
You might even feel numb during sex, but weepy, anxious, or ashamed after. That’s not you being dramatic. That’s your nervous system catching up.
Numbness isn’t absence of feeling - it’s your body’s way of muting what feels overwhelming.
Consent isn’t just a word. It’s connection, presence, safety.
The Types of People-Pleasers in the Bedroom
Drawing from the common people-pleasing types (access the quiz here and find out your people-pleaser personality), you might relate to it this way:
🛑 The Overcommitter
Says yes out of guilt, not desire. Has a never-ending to-do list, always juggling commitments, and has little space for anything else. Thinks, “I’ll probably want to later,” even when they never do.
💬 The Caretaker
Fakes enjoyment. Focuses all attention on their partner to make sure they’re okay. Suppresses their own needs and avoids honesty to keep the mood up.
💎 The Approval Seeker
Wants to be seen as “good at sex” to feel liked, needed, or irreplaceable. Might research more, watch porn to try and copy certain moves, and focuses on what their partner wants in order to impress.
🧠 The Burnout Pleaser
Emotionally and physically tapped out from carrying the mental load for so long. Feels too guilty to say no, so sex becomes another task to tick off. Hopes it’ll be over quickly — would rather nap than have sex but would feel awful admitting it.
🎭 The Chameleon
Loses themselves in the other person. Shape-shifts into whoever they think they should be. Says they like their partner’s preferences — even when they don’t.
You might relate to one - or all - of them and if you do, please know you’re not alone and all of these patterns are more common than you might think.
It’s Not in Your Head. It’s in Your History.
So many women carry grief once they name this pattern.
Grief for the times they said yes when they didn’t want to.
Grief for the years they thought something was wrong with them.
Grief for the idea that they were supposed to enjoy it, but didn’t feel safe enough to.
That grief deserves to be heard.
And if this is resonating...
Know this: You’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you’re not stuck here.
This is the start of something more honest. More connected. A version of you who’s allowed to be turned on, tuned in, or just totally not in the mood – without shame.
And that begins with understanding.
Look out for my podcast episode for more on this subject.
In a future episode, I’ll also be joined by a sex therapist to talk about how to reconnect with your body, your pleasure, and your true desires – without performance, pressure, or pretending.
Until then, remember:
You’ve been taught to perform. Now it’s time to relearn how to feel.
And you don’t have to do that alone.
Get in touch if you’re fed up with pretending it’s fine when it’s not.
I can help you go from…
Going along with sex even though something doesn’t feel right
Wondering whether your disinterest is actually about not wanting to be with your partner
Lying there feeling numb and hoping it’ll be over soon
Overthinking how to say “not tonight” without sounding like a bad partner
Feeling like your pleasure doesn’t matter, or like you don’t even know what you want
...to
understanding your patterns - where they come from and what’s been driving them.
Feeling connected to your body. Knowing what you want and need. Feeling clear on your boundaries.
And confident in what to say - when you need to say it - without guilt, fear, or second-guessing.
