Sofia, 32
It just felt easy, like I’d already known him for a long time. I told León I loved him after two weeks
When I first met León through a mutual friend, I wasn’t particularly interested in him romantically. Then one night I was lying in bed, scrolling, looking for a one-night stand, and liked a story he’d posted. He responded by saying we should go for a wine sometime; I replied: “How about tonight?” Our friend warned me that he was a club owner with a reputation for sleeping around. I said: “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on marrying this guy.” Three and a half years later, we are married with two babies.
Despite sex being my goal that night, León said he wanted to take things slow. The next morning, over breakfast, we had our first real conversation. I texted my friend afterwards saying: “I have a boyfriend.” It just felt easy, like I’d already known him for a long time.
I told León I loved him after two weeks. Four months in, he flew to Italy to meet my family. I got pregnant on that trip. When I found out, alone in Mexico, I fainted, then cried. I told myself: if he’s not 100% in, I’m not doing it. I was 29, but felt like a teenage mum; he was 37 and ready for the next stage of life.
After giving birth, I felt pressure to be intimate again. León was supportive, but he also felt abandoned.
I’ve now either been pregnant or breastfeeding for three years straight, and although I love being a mum, it takes all of my time and my body. My nipples were the first thing to change, becoming darker, almost black, and longer from breastfeeding. León finds that sexy, but I don’t see them as sexual; they’re how I feed my babies. I’ve also lost some of my hair, and it’s hard to feel desirable when I spend every hour of the day with the kids.
Sex used to be loud and free. Now it’s silent and cautious so we don’t wake the baby. Having a quiet breakfast together is a distant memory, but we’re finding new, different ways of being together – we go for ice-cream, or I visit him in the office and we get lunch. In a year, both kids will be at school, and I’ll have time again – for myself, for us – and I think my desire will come back when I do.
León, 40
I’ve felt rejected at times, but sex is only enjoyable when you know the other person wants it too
By the time I met Sofia, I’d been running a nightclub for nine years, going out every night, taking drugs, meeting lots of people and having lots of casual sex. It was intense and addictive, but also exhausting and empty. I was impressed by how focused and grounded she was, what an incredible artist she is, and quickly became infatuated by her.
The first night we went out, something made me want to take it slow and not have sex straight away. Once we did start sleeping together, it was great; we were doing it in every room, four times a day. My priorities had already started to shift, so when Sofia told me she was pregnant, I saw it as a sign to change my life completely.
After our first baby, we were still having sex every day. But when the second came, that went down to once a week. Two babies so close together is intense. I’ve felt rejected at times, but sex is only enjoyable when you know the other person wants it too, so my ego had to adjust. Suddenly, I went from being in the centre to feeling secondary, and being a dad can feel lonely sometimes. Part of me resents that we didn’t have more time together before becoming a family.
I’m still very attracted to Sofia, but it’s more than how she looks – it’s her mind, how she sees the world, who she is as a mother. After a crisis a couple of months ago, and starting couples therapy, we’re finding more moments to be intimate – two or three times a week – even if it’s just half an hour when the kids are asleep. We’re finding our way back to each other, slowly.
The sex is different now – it’s not the spontaneous, experimental porny sex we used to have with dirty talk, switching positions and multiple orgasms. It’s slower, more contained, but also deeper, because the connection is stronger.
