When Sex Feels Like a Chore: Are You Burnt Out or Just Bored of Bad Sex?
- JELQ2GROW
- Jul 31
- 2 min read
There’s this moment, after sex, when you're lying there thinking: Why did I even bother?
You set it up. Made time. Cleaned up. Maybe shaved, maybe douched, maybe threw on cologne and convinced yourself this would be hot. And then it’s over. Fast. Mechanical. Empty. You pull your underwear back on, grab your phone, and feel... nothing.
It’s not that you hate sex. You just don’t see the point of this kind of sex anymore.
And no one tells you this can happen. That sex, something that once felt urgent, addictive, exciting, can start to feel like a bad habit. That over time, especially with hookups or partners who don’t give a shit, it can turn into a weird kind of maintenance. Like brushing your teeth, but lonelier.
You show up, get hard, go through the motions. Maybe you cum, maybe you don’t. Maybe she rides you without a word. Maybe he fucks you in silence, doesn’t even kiss you. And then it’s over. You fake a nap, or you leave. You tell yourself it was decent. But later that night, you’re jerking off to something that actually turns you on.
You’re not broken. You’re just not buying the hype anymore.
This idea that sex is always worth it, that it’s the best release, the ultimate connection, bullshit. It can be those things. But only when it’s good. When there’s chemistry. Curiosity. A little tension. A little care. Something more than two bodies rubbing together and hoping that friction turns into fire.
But when it’s not good? When it’s transactional, lazy, checked-out? It drains you. Not just your balls. Your brain. Your mood. And after enough of those, you start to think: maybe I’m not into sex anymore.But that’s not it. You’re just not into bad sex.
So what do you do when the thing that used to excite you feels like a chore?
You pause. You cut the autopilot. You stop saying yes to sex you don’t actually want.
And maybe that means taking a break from hookups. From Tinder. From Grindr. From the same two recycled fantasies that don’t hit anymore. Not forever. Just long enough to remember what sex is supposed to feel like: electric, intimate, fun, dumb, primal, connected, whatever your version is.
And maybe it means raising your damn standards. Not in a stuck-up way. Just in a self-respecting way.
When It’s Worth It, You’ll Know
You’re not broken. You’re just not into forcing it.
Let it be quiet for a while. Let yourself want real things again, on your terms. And when something (or someone) actually feels worth it, you won’t be second-guessing. You’ll know. And you’ll show up fully.
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