Some Of Us Hate Being Touched After Sex.

— Why?

Want to be left alone as soon as the deed is done? You might be experiencing “postcoital symptoms”.

By Vincenzo Ligresti

Picture the scene: You’ve just finished having sex, and the person who just seconds ago was digging their nails into your back, is now backing away. They’ve instantly and completely gone off the idea of any kind of physical contact. As they slip into the shower, you’re left clutching a sweaty pillow, wondering why they didn’t want to stay under the blanket for a cuddle and a chat.

Or maybe – no judgement! – you’re the one doing the showering in this particular scenario. Everyone reacts differently in the moments after orgasm. In fact, it’s now become a burgeoning area of academic study. Until recently, much of the research was focused on what’s known clinically as post-coital dysphoria — the term given to those unmistakable sensations of sadness, anxiety and irritability that can wash over us after a sexual encounter.

Then along came a 2020 study by Andrea Burri and Peter Hilpert, two sexologists based at the Institute for Sex Counselling and Sexual Sciences in Zurich, which concluded that we might be better off redefining it as “postcoital symptoms”. They understand it as a series of feelings, including mood swings and low energy, that arise largely due to a decline in interest after sexual climax.

The duo surveyed 223 women and 76 men, asking them to answer a base set of 21 questions related to the topic. A staggering 94.3 percent of the participants were found to have shown signs of postcoital symptoms since they became sexually active. Interestingly, 46.6 percent of them reported that these feelings were just as likely to be present after masturbation as they were after sexual activity with another person (or multiple people).

It’s worth considering that much of the scientific literature on this topic has, historically at least, been rather phallocentric. A good example of just how much weight has been placed on the penis is the significance afforded to the refectory period — that is, just how long it takes a man to get an erection again after orgasm. This is largely determined by the age of the penis-possessor in question. Eighteen-year-olds only have to factor in 28 minutes or so, while sexually active men in their 70s are looking at a 20-hour gap between sessions.

Fabrizio Quattrini, a psychotherapist, sexologist and lecturer in clinical sexual disorders at Italy’s University of L’Aquila, is adamant that both sexes are affected by stimulation. “Hypersensitivity of the genitals after orgasm isn’t just a male thing,” he says. “Some people have a hypersensitive clitoral gland, which has to be stimulated in a certain way to experience pleasure. And just like men with their penises, they might not want to even think about any additional stimulation after that.”

Beyond the outmoded stereotypes that permeate our understanding of gender and sexuality (i.e. men scarpering after sex and women clinging, barnacle-like, to their partners), there’s an attempt to understand the post-sex blues as a biological phenomena. It’s an idea put forward by Filippo Maria Nimbi, a psychologist and sexologist at the Sapienza University of Rome.

“The evolutionary branches say that, on a biological level, women try to keep their partners close to guarantee a feeling of safety in the result of pregnancy, while men want to inseminate as many women as possible to ensure the continuation of the species,” Nimbi says. “But that’s a simplistic and dated concept. We have to overcome the gender binary and all the stereotypes that come with it.”

It’s possible that those stereotypes have already played a devastating role in the collective sexual imagination. We often take on roles in the bedroom, reacting and behaving in certain ways, because this is what we feel like we should be doing, as opposed to what we actually want to do. This occurs in sexual relationships of all stripes.

This stems in part from our experience of sex education in childhood and adolescence, Quattrini argues. He says that when you’ve not been educated properly on the link between emotion and sexuality, the heady combination of physical and emotional sensations that bubble up in one’s self after sex cannot be “understood, managed, and evaluated in a constructive way.” This leads to situations where people’s ideas about sex perhaps don’t align with their lived experience of it.

So how can couples handle a situation where one partner tends towards postcoital symptoms more than the other? For Quattrini, communication is key. “You’ve got to ask each other questions like: ‘How did this start? Has it always been like this? Have we ever addressed it?’” he says. “Clearly, if that aspect was never there, it means that the partners are becoming aware of some absence. If, on the other hand, they were there in the past, but not anymore, it may be a sign of losing something in the relationship. You always need to understand how a couple is evolving.”

The experts I spoke with reiterated the need to practice what we might think of as “positive sexuality”. This has nothing to do with thinking that every sexual encounter will be amazing, but instead experiencing it all without judgement and prejudice — and that extends to any postcoital anxieties. Including, it seems, running off for a shower.

Complete Article HERE!

What Is Postcoital Dysphoria?

Here’s what you need to know about the after-sex blues.

BY

Sometimes the best part of sex is after sex, when you get to lie around in a postcoital haze (after you pee for UTI-prevention purposes, obviously) and soak up all the just-got-laid vibes—unless sex leaves you feeling absolutely miserable, that is. Have you ever felt random sadness, irritability, or anxiety after an otherwise pleasant sexperience? Maybe the sex was good and you felt fine at first, but then afterward you noticed an overwhelming change in mood. Then, before you knew it, your emotions fully took over to the point where you started crying or froze up completely.

If any of this sounds familiar, then you may have experienced postcoital dysphoria, commonly referred to as “post-sex blues.” And don’t worry babe, you’re very much not alone.

Postcoital dysphoria (sometimes abbreviated PCD) is relatively common, and while we gals may have the monopoly on crying both in and out of bed, it’s not nearly as gender-specific as you might think. According to a 2015 study published in The Journal of Sexual Medicine, 46 percent of the 233 female students surveyed experienced PCD at least once, and a 2019 study found that 41 percent of male students surveyed had experienced it at some point in their lifetime.

“Postcoital dysphoria is when a person experiences feelings of sadness, depression, anxiety or agitation after consensual sex—even if that sex was loving, satisfying, or enjoyable,” says Wendasha Jenkins Hall, PhD, aka the Sensible Sexpert.

It can obviously be pretty disorienting and/or downright scary to get hit with a sudden wave of negative feelings out of nowhere, especially after you’ve just enjoyed a trip to bonetown and would much rather be cuddling with your partner in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. Luckily, if you are someone who experiences the post-sex blues, there are ways to deal. Here’s everything you need to know about postcoital dysphoria, including why it happens and how to keep it from killing your post-sex vibe.

What causes postcoital dysphoria?

Research on what causes postcoital dysphoria is somewhat limited, and it’s not exactly a condition where one size (or reason, rather) fits all. That said, experts do have a few theories on what causes the post-sex blues.

For some, postcoital dysphoria may be linked to other mental health conditions, including anxiety and depression, says Hall, adding that hormonal shifts, particularly after pregnancy, might also be a contributing factor. “The hormonal fluctuations that a pregnant person may experience postpartum or postnatal may cause these feelings of postcoital dysphoria,” she says.

According to Hall, it’s also thought that a history of abuse, “especially childhood sexual abuse,” might be related to some people’s experience of PCD.

“Another reason may be resentment,” she adds. “If a person has a history of emotional, psychological or physical abuse, then they may be more resentful about sex or sexual experiences, especially if they feel they don’t have complete control over these experiences.”

Whatever might be causing your own experience of postcoital dysphoria will depend on your own individual circumstances, obvs. It might be something you can figure out with a therapist, or you might literally just not know what exactly is behind your post-sex blues. Fortunately, no matter what’s causing it, there are ways to cope with PCD when it happens.

What are some techniques to cope with postcoital dysphoria?

An attack of bad vibes after sex can feel random and all consuming, but self-care practices like breathing exercises and meditation might help you deal if you find yourself experiencing negative feelings post-sex.

“I can’t emphasize enough the importance of breath work for any somatic condition such as postcoital dysphoria,” says James Humecky, somatic educator and certified surrogate partner therapist. “Breath brings us back to our bodies. Breath brings awareness. Awareness brings relief.”

If you feel the blues coming on after sex, Humecky suggests following these steps:

  1. Connect to your body by getting comfortable and distraction-free.
  2. Practice diaphragmatic breathing (five seconds inhale, five seconds exhale).
  3. Pay attention to what’s happening within your body at that moment.
  4. Recognize what kind of sensations you’re feeling.
  5. Ask yourself what you need at that exact moment.

Humecky also encourages letting yourself get curious about sensations. Are there any images or colors you can associate with what’s happening on the inside? What adjectives could you use to describe your feelings?

“By welcoming the sensation in, we break the cycle of fear and confusion that surrounds it,” he continues.

Hall adds that self-management techniques for PCD may also look like drawing, taking a warm bath, having your partner bring you your favorite food, or just giving yourself space to clear your head.

How to talk about postcoital dysphoria with your partner

It’s only natural to shut down when you’re dealing with something as difficult and confusing as postcoital dysphoria, but it’s super important to know that you don’t have to go through it alone. Opening up to your partner about what you’re experiencing can actually be extremely helpful in beating the post-sex blues.

“Partnership will yield the most satisfactory and long-lasting results,” Humecky says, adding that while some people may worry their partner will take their PCD personally, honest communication is crucial. Opening up to your partner about what you’re going through is a chance to get closer, and to help you both better understand the (occasionally confusing!) connection between the mind and the body during sex.

Hall recommends explaining to your partner that it isn’t necessarily the sex itself that is causing anxiety, sadness, and depression. It’s possible to genuinely feel pleasured and physically satisfied during sex, yet notice a sudden influx of distressing emotions after sex, all of which may not have anything to do with your relationship or the quality of the sex you’re having.

When to seek professional help

Self-care, post-sex rituals, and self-management techniques can be helpful, but there are times when even those methods aren’t enough. If you find that PCD cannot be managed with deep breathing, meditation, and other self-care practices, or if it’s harming the overall quality of your relationship, then it could be time to seek help from a professional.

“It is important to see a therapist, mental health specialist, or counselor, as what is causing the postcoital dysphoria can be deep-rooted issues, from sexual trauma to general stress and anxiety,” says Hall. “When seeing a counselor, it should not necessarily be about the sex. It should be about the feelings that one is having after sex.”

As with any mental health journey, it’s important not to hold yourself to any specific timeline when navigating PCD, whether you’re doing it on your own or with the help of a professional. It may take a long time to get to the root of your feelings and figure out how to manage them, and that’s okay.

Feeling sad for no reason is obviously not a vibe, especially after sex. But working through postcoital dysphoria is an opportunity to learn more about yourself, and to better understand the (sometimes annoyingly!) complex relationship between your mind, body, and ~feels~. If you’re dealing with a case of the post-sex blues, know that you’re not alone, it is manageable, and you don’t have to let this random attack of bad vibes ruin your sex life. With a little self-care and/or professional help, you can get back to laying around in your regularly scheduled post-sex bliss, promise.

Complete Article HERE!