Sex Does Not Equal Value

Personally, this is an extremely hard concept for me to untangle. I don’t know if society is to blame, or my own lived experiences, or some complicated mix of the two. What I do know is this: when I’m unable to show my care or affection through sex, I feel like I lose my value to the person I’m trying to love.

That’s a heavy thing to carry.

Have you ever wanted to have sex—or perform a sexual act—not purely out of desire, but because it felt like the only way to truly show someone how much you care? Have you ever felt like if someone doesn’t want to have sex with you, the relationship must be slipping away? Because I have.

Even when I logically understand that love, attraction, and commitment are not defined by sexual availability, the feeling doesn’t just disappear. When my partner says they’re not feeling it in the moment—especially when I am ready to express love that way—I feel lost. Rejected. Unmoored. As if the language I rely on most has suddenly been taken away.

And that’s the part that scares me.

Somewhere along the line, sex became synonymous with worth. Desire became proof of value. And when that desire isn’t mirrored back, my brain tells a story that I know isn’t true—but feels real all the same: If I’m not wanted sexually right now, then I’m not wanted at all.

It’s messed up that sex equals value in my internal equation.
It’s unfair—to me and to the people I love.
And it’s something I’m still learning how to unlearn.

Maybe this isn’t about sex at all. Maybe it’s about feeling chosen. About reassurance. About wanting to matter in a way that feels tangible and undeniable. Or maybe it’s about how rarely we’re taught that intimacy can exist without performance, and love can exist without proof.

I don’t have a neat conclusion yet. What I have is awareness—and the hope that by naming this out loud, I can start separating my worth from my body, my value from my availability, and my love from the fear of being unwanted.