How Yasmin went from a year of lost desire and guilt to enjoying sex again

Written with

Yasmin D.

The beginning

It crept up on me slowly. I’d started medication for anxiety — high stress at work had snowballed into everything else, and I’d reached a point where I just needed something to slow my thoughts down. The medication helped, genuinely. But within the first couple of months, I noticed something else changing. My sex drive, which had always been a natural, easy part of my life, packed its bags and left.

I wasn’t in the mood anymore. Ever. Where sex used to feel exciting and spontaneous, now it felt like something to get through. I’d stopped initiating entirely. When it did happen, I was so in my head — running through it like a mental checklist rather than actually being there — that I could barely relax, let alone enjoy it. And then there was the plateau. Getting close, feeling like it was about to happen — and then nothing. Like a sneeze that never comes. Over and over. Orgasming, which used to feel pretty accessible, had started taking up to an hour of real effort.

“I’d think “We should probably have sex soon,” and then feel bad, because I knew it would always get pushed to the back of my to-do list.”
— Yasmin

This went on for a year. A whole year of avoiding sex, then lying awake afterwards feeling a complicated kind of guilt. Tom was wonderful about it — genuinely. He never pushed, never made me feel bad, and when he’d joke about it (“got a headache again?”) it was always warm, never loaded. But I knew he’s a physical touch person, and even with his patience and good humour, I felt the absence. I felt like I wasn’t able to connect with him in a way that mattered to him — and that was entirely my own weight to carry, not anything he put on me.

I want to be clear: our relationship is strong. We’re deeply connected in all kinds of ways. But there’s a whole piece of intimacy that comes from a healthy sex life, and I felt the absence of it. Not just for him — for me. I missed wanting it. I missed feeling like that was part of who I was.

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Finding Mojo

I found Mojo on Instagram — honestly, as you do. I was skeptical at first. Women’s health is an area where a lot of brands make a lot of promises, and I’ve been burned enough times to approach anything new with a healthy dose of doubt. But when Tom and I got engaged, something changed in me. I didn’t just want things back to how they were before — I wanted to come out the other side of this even better. I wanted to go into our marriage feeling totally present and connected.

The Big Oh! Bundle comes with 2 things: the Rebuild Your Orgasm course and the Oh! Cream. I started both around the same time — the cream arrived pretty quickly and I just got going with it straightaway.

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The course

To be totally honest: I didn’t expect to enjoy the course. I thought I’d feel awkward, or like I was doing homework. But one of the first things that surprised me was the Mojo AI. I’d used ChatGPT before and expected something similar — a bit clinical, a bit robotic. This felt completely different. More like talking to a real therapist. Warm, non-judgmental, and private in a way that felt genuinely safe. I found myself opening up more than I expected to.

There’s also practical guidance woven throughout — not just theory, but actual tools for bringing what you’re learning into real life with your partner. The scheduling sex module particularly stood out to me. I know “scheduling sex” sounds like the least sexy phrase imaginable, but the course reframes it — it showed us how to make it feel anticipated rather than boring. That, combined with using the Oh! Cream as a kind of pre-sex ritual, became a genuine turning point for me.

“It helped me reconnect with why sex matters to me — and reminded me that I actually deserve to enjoy it. That sounds obvious, but I’d forgotten it.”
— Yasmin

I started noticing a real difference after about 2–3 weeks. Not just in the bedroom — in the whole weight of it. The guilt I’d been carrying around lifted. That low-level background stress of worrying about Tom, about whether he felt unwanted, about whether I was being a bad partner — it just went. I hadn’t realised how much space that guilt had been taking up until it was gone.

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The Oh! Cream

The Oh! Cream became something I look forward to. I use it on my own, before sex, as a sort of ritual — a way of setting my intentions and mentally transitioning into that space. The physical effect is immediate: sensitivity increases noticeably, and I find I’m actually into it from the very start, rather than spending the first 20 minutes in my head trying to warm up. That warm-up period used to feel like a real chore. Now I skip it entirely.

Before, reaching orgasm could take up to an hour of hard work at its worst. Now? Around twenty minutes, and it’s genuinely enjoyable the whole way through. The release I’d been missing — that physical and mental exhale at the end of a good day — is back. The difference isn’t just time. It’s that the whole experience has stopped feeling like effort and started feeling like pleasure again. Which, when you think about it, is what it’s supposed to be.

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Where things are now

We spend more time actually connecting in bed now — not just watching something on TV, rolling over and going to sleep. We’re more present with each other. He compliments my body more — because he’s seeing it more, I suppose — and he’s freer with it now, more playful, more flirty. I think before, he was holding that side of himself back a little. Not wanting to say something that might feel like pressure, or like he was angling for something. Now that sex isn’t a loaded topic between us anymore, none of that caution is necessary. It’s just something fun we can both tap into. He can say something cheeky and it’s just that — cheeky. Not weighted. That lightness has made me feel more confident in my own skin, and it’s been spilling into the rest of my week too.

My body confidence before all this? Probably a 2 or 3 out of 10. I’m not going to pretend the course fixed every complicated feeling I have about my body — but I feel different in my own skin now. More comfortable. More sexy.

“We had such a strong bond. But it’s nice to now feel fully connected — the whole piece.”
— Yasmin

If you’re reading this and something about it resonates — the plateau, the lost desire, the guilt, the feeling that you’ve become someone who just doesn’t enjoy sex anymore — I want you to know that it does get better. And you deserve for it to. Mojo isn’t a gimmick. It worked for me in ways I genuinely didn’t anticipate. I’m getting married next year feeling like myself again. That matters more than I can say.

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This is one member's personal experience. Individual results vary, and this story is not medical advice. Changes in desire, arousal, or orgasm can have medical causes — including as a side effect of medication such as antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication. If you've noticed a change like this, especially after starting a new medication, speak to your doctor or prescriber before making changes. Always consult a qualified healthcare professional about persistent concerns.

Mojo aims to provide useful wellbeing resources to its users; however, you should not solely rely on opinions or advice available on the Website or given by the Community. Always seek advice from a qualified medical doctor or other healthcare professional before acting.