When it comes to conversations about love, sex, and pleasure, some narratives feel so loud they almost drown everything else out. We hear about the excitement of reconnecting with a partner after having a baby, or how some couples can’t wait to break the six-week rule postpartum. But for some of us, the story isn’t so simple. Add a history of sexual trauma into the mix, and the path toward intimacy can feel more like a corn maze than a straightforward path.

The Quiet Disconnect

Surviving sexual assault creates ripples that touch every aspect of life including our relationships with love and intimacy. For me, there’s been a disconnect, a subtle yet persistent shift in how I relate to my body and my desires. Over the years, this disconnect grew, but it reached a new level after having a baby. My body didn’t feel like my own anymore, not entirely. It had become a vessel of life, a provider of nutrition, and in the process, my connection to it as a source of pleasure felt…complicated and slightly foreign.

No one tells you how vulnerable postpartum life can feel, or how fear of another pregnancy might overshadow the idea of intimacy. The pressure to “bounce back” doesn’t help. It’s like the world expects you to return to some ideal version of yourself overnight, but what if that version never really existed? What if you’re still figuring out what intimacy looks like for you after trauma, and now you’re doing it with the added complexity of motherhood?

Rewriting the Narrative

Healing is deeply personal and doesn’t follow a timeline. For me, reclaiming love, sex, and pleasure starts with giving myself permission to rewrite the narrative. I’m literally that girl! Instead of striving to meet external expectations, I’m learning to listen to my body’s whispers, honor its signals, and embrace its needs. Sometimes that means saying “not today” to intimacy. Other times, it’s about finding new ways to connect that feel safe and affirming.

Communication is key here, it’s not always comfortable, but it’s necessary. Vulnerability, as scary as it can be, is a bridge back to connection.

Exploring Pleasure—On My Terms

Rediscovering pleasure after trauma and childbirth isn’t linear. Some days it feels distant, like an old friend I haven’t seen in years. Other days, it’s closer—a warm, familiar presence reminding me of what’s possible. For me, this journey includes:

• Reclaiming My Body: This means giving myself grace as I adjust to the changes postpartum life brings. Sometimes, it’s as simple as cooking a really yummy meal or taking a new fitness class. Small acts of care remind me that my body is still mine.
• Redefining Intimacy: Intimacy isn’t always about sex. It’s also about connection, trust, and vulnerability. A long hug, a meaningful conversation, or even holding hands can be just as powerful as anything physical.
• Therapy and Support: Having a safe space to unpack my experiences has been transformative. Whether through therapy, support groups, or trusted friends, finding people who understand makes a world of difference.

Navigating Fear of Pregnancy

The fear of getting pregnant again is real, especially after experiencing the physical and emotional demands of childbirth. It’s a fear that can cast a shadow over intimacy, making it feel less like a place of connection and more like a potential risk. For me, I’m still figuring out how to navigate it all since I declined ever take birth control again.

Acknowledging the Impact on Relationships

The challenges of navigating intimacy after sexual trauma and postpartum changes can strain even the strongest relationships. Misaligned expectations, unspoken fears, and emotional disconnects can create cracks that, if left unaddressed, may grow over time. It’s no secret that many couples break up after having children! I wholeheartedly see everyone’s different perspectives, amongst other added stress, combined with the emotional toll of parenting, can make it hard to stay connected.

For some, these struggles highlight underlying issues that were present before the baby arrived. For others, it’s the weight of new responsibilities and the loss of personal time that create distance. In my experience, openly acknowledging these challenges with Dru’s dad has been crucial. We’ve had to slow down on multiple occasions to acknowledge each other’s feelings, even when it’s uncomfortable, committing to working through the hard stuff together is key.

A Journey, Not a Destination

Healing isn’t about arriving at some perfect state of being. It’s about making peace with the process, celebrating small victories, and holding space for the days when it feels harder. Love, sex, and pleasure can look different after trauma and childbirth, and that’s okay. What matters most is honoring your unique journey and giving yourself permission to find joy and connection in ways that feel authentic to you.

To anyone navigating similar waters: you are not alone. Your story, your pace, and your boundaries are valid. Reconnection is possible, and it can be beautiful friend… one gentle step at a time.

Xoxo, Drea