When No One Knows How to Lead
- Anisa Varasteh
- Sep 5
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 15
Issue Eight: And the myth of connected sex
Let me tell you a story.
A client sat across from me—well-spoken, thoughtful, emotionally literate. The kind of man who’d done some reading. Watched a few Esther Perel clips. Maybe too many.
He came in because his partner believed he had a porn addiction. (That’s how he phrased it. “Diagnosed” was the word he used.)
But beneath that label was something else entirely.
Not pathology. Not avoidance.
Curiosity.
He wasn’t watching porn to escape her.
He was watching real couples, real bodies—not for fantasy, but for education. He was searching for ideas, direction, maybe even hope.
At one point, he leaned forward and said:
“My partner keeps pulling away from sex.
She never initiates.
And I’ve stopped trying—because I don’t want to impose.
Or feel rejected again.
It hurts.”
“We’ve talked. I think what she wants is… connected sex.
And honestly? I’d love for her to explain to me what it is.
I’d be happy to follow her into the kind of sex she longs for.
But she doesn’t lead.
And I don’t know how to give her what she wants anymore.”
He wasn’t defensive.
He wasn’t blaming her.
He was heartbroken.
And disoriented.
Because no one had ever taught him how to meet someone in sex without leading it.

So let’s talk about “connected sex.”
It sounds lovely, doesn’t it?
You’ll find it in Instagram reels with slow-lit candles and eye contact that lasts a beat too long.
But real connected sex?
It’s not always candlelit.
It’s not always soft.
It’s not always slow.
What it is—is honest.
Connected sex is when both people feel safe enough to be seen.
It’s when you’re not performing a script.
It’s when there’s space for attunement, misattunement, and repair.
And yes, that sounds beautiful in theory.
But in practice? It can be terrifying.
Because most of us haven’t been given the language—or the cultural permission—to build sex like that.
Especially men in heterosexual dynamics.
They’ve been taught to:
• Lead.
• Know.
• Perform.
• Make her come—preferably quickly, impressively, and with minimal guidance.
And when their partner pulls away?
They don’t know what to do.
They’re caught in a double bind:
“Don’t pressure her.
But don’t be passive either.
Lead with confidence.
But read her mind.
Be a safe space.
But also be sexy.”
And if that sounds exhausting—it’s because it is.
Let’s pause here.
If you’re a man reading this and feeling that slow ache in your chest—the one that says, I’ve felt that. I’ve been there—
Please know this:
There’s nothing wrong with you.
Your desire to connect is not a weakness.
Your disorientation is not a failure.
And your longing to be led, to be felt, to not always carry the weight of initiation—
is human.
The myth is this:
That sex only works if someone leads and someone follows.
That one of you gives, and the other receives.
That connection must be orchestrated by the person with the ‘stronger’ libido.
But the most erotic and fulfilling sex is co-created.
Two people listening.
Feeling.
Naming.
Playing.
Not just taking turns performing intimacy.
But becoming intimate.
There is no map for this kind of sex.
Only a compass.
And the courage to follow what feels true.
If you’re holding the weight of knowing, leading, fixing, proving—
you’re not alone.
And if your partner says she wants connected sex—
don’t assume that means less of you.
Sometimes, it means more of you.
Your curiosity.
Your need.
Your heart.
Not polished.
Not perfect.
Just present.
*If something in this piece resonated, challenged, or moved you, I invite you to share it below.
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This brought tears to my eyes. Good tears.
Thank you.
I read this and I though to myself: "Has she written this about my husband?!" This is so true and very well written. Thank you for giving language to what many people feel but cannot express. I love your writing.