Welcome to Ask a Cleveland Sex Therapist. Want to ask Matt a question that could be tackled in a future column? Click here. Now, onto this week’s topic.
Every year, without fail, Valentine’s Day brings a familiar wave of anxiety into my office. I see it with singles who feel pressure to finally have a partner and with couples and polyam folx who feel the need to make the day perfect. The pressure can feel heavy and unrelenting. Even when no one says it out loud, there is usually a question hanging in the air: are we supposed to be having sex tonight? Valentine’s Day has quietly become one of the most emotionally loaded days of the year when it comes to sex and relationships. I remember in the beginning of my relationship thinking that this day meant I had to go all out and the sex had to be amazing. For a holiday that is marketed as a celebration of love and intimacy, it often does the opposite. So, I started to question if Valentine’s Day sex is somehow worse than every day, non-holiday sex.
Let’s start with the research, because there is not a lot out there. I was not able to find a peer reviewed study that directly compares the quality of sex on Valentine’s Day to sex on a random day of the year. No one has measured orgasm intensity, emotional closeness, or satisfaction specifically on February 14th and stacked it up against a random Tuesday in April. Probably because funding sex-based research is almost non-existent in the United States, but that rant is for another post. But just because there is no direct research does not mean that is the full story. Stopping there misses what the research actually does show. When we zoom out and look at what we know about desire, pressure, stress, comparison, and obligation, Valentine’s Day creates nearly perfect conditions for sex to feel worse for a lot of people.
One of the most consistent findings in sex research is that pressure is a desire killer. Desire thrives in environments where people feel safe and relaxed. It does not respond well to expectation or demand. Unless you are in a D/s dynamic, someone commanding you to have sex with them usually doesn’t get the juices flowing. Valentine’s Day comes with a very specific cultural script about what romance and sex are supposed to look like. There are supposed to be gestures. There is supposed to be chemistry. We are supposed to go to dinner at Le Petit Triangle and then have amazing sex. When sex becomes something you feel like you should want, the body often responds by doing the opposite. The nervous system tightens, arousal becomes harder to access, and pleasure becomes something to perform rather than something to experience. No amount of candles, flowers, or lingerie can override that physiological reality.
Comparison culture only exacerbates this feeling. Valentine’s Day does not exist offline anymore. It lives on Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook, where intimacy is carefully curated and publicly displayed. People scroll past romantic trips, expensive gifts, coordinated outfits, and captions declaring deep love and passion. I know I typically post the glass of Malbec I am drinking or piece of tiramisu I am eating, in large part because I like posting to Instagram, but I am sure somewhere deep down I want people to see that my partner and I are celebrating. Research on social comparison consistently shows that comparing our real lives to idealized portrayals increases dissatisfaction and self criticism. When it comes to sex and relationships, that comparison often turns inward very quickly. People start wondering why their relationship
does not look like that, why their sex life does not feel as exciting, and why their desire does not match what they assume everyone else is experiencing.
Another major factor that research helps us understand is the role of obligation. There is a meaningful difference between sex that happens because someone wants it and sex that happens because someone feels like they should. How many times have you said yes to sex because it feels like something you “have” or “should” do? Obligation sex might look fine from the outside, but internally it often creates distance rather than closeness. Over time, it teaches the body that intimacy is something you endure to keep the peace or meet expectations. That pattern builds resentment, not connection. Let me say this clearly: there is no rule that states you must have sex with anyone. That is created through toxic relationship messaging. Once the body associates sex with obligation, desire often pulls away as a form of self-protection.
One piece of information you need to remember is that sexual satisfaction is shaped as much by emotional context as by physical behavior. Simply having more sex does not guarantee greater satisfaction, and for some couples and polyamorous folx, increasing frequency without addressing stress, can actually make sex feel worse. Valentine’s Day often shifts the focus to the act of sex rather than the conditions that make sex enjoyable, which becomes a problem when those conditions are already missing. Add in winter fatigue, low mood, burnout, and disrupted routines, and it becomes clear why expecting desire to show up on demand, especially under pressure and comparison, is unrealistic.
So, if Valentine’s Day sex sometimes feels worse, it is not because the holiday itself ruins intimacy. It is because the holiday amplifies everything that already makes intimacy hard. Pressure, comparison, obligation, stress, and performance are all known inhibitors of desire and pleasure. Valentine’s Day simply concentrates them into one symbolic moment and then tells people it is supposed to feel magical. Real intimacy is not about meeting a cultural script. It is about being able to say, this is where I am today, without fearing that the relationship will collapse as a result. Sex can absolutely be part of intimacy, but it is not the only measure of it, and it is not always the most meaningful expression. If your Valentine’s Day includes sex, great. If it includes rest, laughter, conversation, or turning in early, that is also great. What matters is not whether the night matches a fantasy, but whether it allows you to feel connected in whatever way is possible for you right now.
Matt Lachman is a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor and Supervisor, AASECT Certified Sex Therapist, and owner of Cleveland Sex Therapy, located in the heart of Gordon Square. Since opening Cleveland Sex Therapy in 2019, Matt has been dedicated to promoting sex positivity and inclusivity in his work with individuals, couples, and polyamorous relationships. When he’s not helping clients navigate their sexual and relational journeys, you can find him enjoying a cold brew at Gypsy Beans, sipping a cocktail at Luxe, or relaxing on his couch watching reruns of Happy Endings. Ask a question of your own here.
Disclaimer: The advice provided in this column is intended for generalinformational purposes only and should not be considered a substitute for professional therapy or mental health treatment. Each individual’s situation is unique, and the insights offered here may not address the complexities of your specific circumstances. If you’re experiencing challenges related to your mental health, relationships, or sexuality, I strongly encourage you to reach out to a licensed therapist or mental health professional for personalized support. You’re not alone—help is available.
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