Why More Single Women Are Seeing Sex Therapists

Before becoming a sex therapist herself, Abby Neuberg, 45, a licensed marriage and family therapist based in Alameda, California, went to couples’ sex therapy with her then-husband to resolve a mismatch in their sexual connection.

But Neuberg quickly realized the work wasn't just about resolving issues within their sex life—it was also about understanding her own desires, communication patterns, and relationship with intimacy. She now equates the dynamic between her and her now ex-husband to Pepé Le Pew chasing Penelope Pussycat. “Chase energy can be hot if that's what we want, but that was not hot. It was stressful,” she says.

The experience ultimately changed the way Neuberg thought about sex, relationships, and herself.

“We're not failures if we don't necessarily meet the desires and expectations of the other person,” she says.

While many people associate sex therapy with couples, you don't need a partner to benefit from it. In fact, two sex therapists we spoke with for this story say that single women make up anywhere from 25 to 50 percent of their current caseloads.

“Working with a sex therapist, even when you're single, can have a profound impact on your relationship with yourself and your sex life,” says Gabby Jimmerson, an AASECT-certified sex therapist and couples therapist based in Franklin, Tennessee. “One of my favorite parts of my job is helping women reclaim—or, for some, claim for the very first time—their sexual selves.”

In other words, some of the most transformative work happens one-on-one. Whether you're healing from an unhealthy relationship, navigating perimenopause, exploring orgasm for the first time, or simply trying to understand what you want from your body and your relationships, being single can actually be one of the best times to do the work.

Being Single Can Be an Advantage in Sex Therapy 

“A lot of people are surprised to learn that sex therapy isn't just about sex,” says Jimmerson. 

Much of our culture teaches us to think about intimacy as something we experience with another person. But Sarah Sumner, a licensed sex and relationship therapist based in Brooklyn, New York, encourages her clients to broaden that definition.

“I think so much of our culture is focused on intimacy as it relates to other people and not intimacy with ourselves—and I don't necessarily mean masturbation,” she says. “I really do mean being deeply connected to yourself, to your body, to your senses, to your thoughts, to your feelings, and then also to your desires.”

Helping women build that relationship with themselves is a large part of Jimmerson's work. Most of the single women she sees in her practice are learning about their bodies in ways they never were before. “Most women aren't taught much about their bodies beyond menstruation and pregnancy,” she says. “Sometimes my job is simply explaining anatomy, sexual function, and the many pathways to pleasure.”

Other times, she's helping women push back on societal messages that suggest sex exists primarily for a man's pleasure—or that normal body fluids, smells, and textures are somehow “gross.”

“This is therapeutic work that can be particularly powerful when single,” she says.

Today, Neuberg helps her own clients explore these same questions by looking beyond sexual encounters and examining where desire and connection first emerge.

“There is a desire that emerges not from sexual contact, but from other types of connections,” she says. “Understanding, ‘oh, I could check in with my brain or my heart’ and see there's desire here. Maybe you're not feeling it in an erotic zone, but you can feel it there.”

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You can't share what you don't already possess, so expecting to have a mind-blowing sex life with a partner before getting in touch with your own desires, wants, or sense of pleasure is unrealistic. —Gabby Jimmerson, sex therapist and couples' therapist

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Exploring those sensations and wants on your own can ultimately make it easier to have a more fulfilling sex life with a partner, as well.

“You can't share what you don't already possess, so expecting to have a mind-blowing sex life with a partner before getting in touch with your own desires, wants, or sense of pleasure is unrealistic,” Jimmerson says. “That's not to say you won't discover new things with a partner—you absolutely will—but you also have a responsibility to become comfortable with yourself first.”

When to See a Sex Therapist 

Sex therapy is designed for anyone wanting to learn more about intimacy, their sexuality, and pleasure. There’s no wrong time to go.

“You don't have to wait until you're in crisis to work with a sex therapist or any mental health therapist, for that matter,” Jimmerson says. She notes that many people, especially women, feel guilty asking for help or taking space. 

“But therapy isn't just for surviving,” she says. “It's also for growing, learning, and investing in yourself.”

That said, there are a few scenarios and life stages where sex therapy may be especially helpful. 

After a divorce or leaving an unhealthy relationship

Separating from someone you once loved deeply and passionately is devastating—whether married or not—and, for many, earth-shattering. 

“For us to be able to focus on pleasure, we actually have to also look at grief,” Sumner says. “They're interconnected.”

When moving toward what you want, emotionally, sexually, and beyond, that often means letting go of any preconceptions of the life you once thought you wanted.  

“When we're talking about divorce, you've dreamed up this whole life with this person, and you've decided on this trajectory that’s no longer true,” she says. “Oftentimes when I meet folks who are experiencing divorce, so much of what they're mourning is the person they didn't become as a result of making the choices with their partner.”

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For us to be able to focus on pleasure, we actually have to also look at grief. They're interconnected. —Sarah Sumner, sex and relationship therapist

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For some women, that grief is compounded by relationships that weren't just incompatible, but emotionally or sexually unsafe.

Those who exited abusive relationships, including ones that involve sexual coercion or non-consensual experiences, can feel both relief and freedom as well as deep pain, Jimmerson says.

“Women who have experienced repeated violations of their boundaries often feel, understandably, protective of themselves or even completely shut down sexually,” she explains. “Exploring and processing trauma with the right support is essential for rebuilding confidence and self-trust—not just sexually, but across every part of your life.” 

Healing from one of these relationships is about reconnecting with your body, your voice, and reclaiming your ability to choose what feels safe and good for you, Jimmerson adds.

If you're navigating perimenopause

Many women assume a declining libido or changing relationship with sex during perimenopause signals the end of an exciting sex life. Sex therapists see it differently.

“There are so many hormonal shifts happening,” says Sumner. “It's like Act Three of your life.” Beyond the physical changes, she says, many women are also navigating an identity shift, one that invites them to ask, “Who am I now, and what do I want?”

Hormonal changes, vaginal dryness, pain with sex, and shifts in desire are all common, says Jimmerson, but they don't mean your sex life is over. “What worked for you 20 years ago may not work now,” she says. “That doesn't mean your sex life is over. It means you have an invitation to play, experiment, and explore something new.”

Part of that process is identifying what's putting the brakes on desire. Aimee Evnin-Bingham, an AASECT-certified sex therapist in San Francisco, often teaches clients the dual control model, which describes sexual desire as having both brakes and accelerators. 

“The dual control model is a part of our brain that tells us to break or accelerate sexual connection,” she says. “We need to learn more about what the breaks are to help get to our accelerators. We like to think about this model as a car—if we have our foot on the brake, the car isn’t going anywhere. The same goes for our sexuality.”

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What worked for you 20 years ago may not work now. —Jimmerson

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Stress, exhaustion, and hormonal changes can all press the brakes, she says. Instead of forcing desire, she encourages women to ask what their body needs first, whether that's rest, movement, an erotic novel, or support from a menopause specialist or pelvic floor physical therapist.

For Neuberg, perimenopause became an unexpected permission slip to stop people-pleasing and start trusting herself. The rapid hormonal fluctuations force you to let go of the things that are not important to you, she says. “If I want to show up, I need to take care of myself.”

That shift changed not only how she approached dating after her divorce, but how she approaches her entire life now. 

“I dragged myself through life with a small child and still showed up with perimenopause. I got a divorce during perimenopause. I can handle anything,” she says. “I trust myself. I know myself. I'm going to own that.”

If you're ready to stop performing in the bedroom

Many women seek out sex therapy because they’ve never had an orgasm, struggle to orgasm consistently, or simply feel disconnected from pleasure. 

“One of the most important principles here is ironic: letting go of the pressure to orgasm is often part of what makes orgasm possible,” Jimmerson says. Rather than focusing on performance, she helps clients better understand their bodies, pleasure, and communication.

For Evnin-Bingham, reconnecting with pleasure often starts by calming your nervous system. If stress, perfectionism, or anxiety keeps the aforementioned brakes engaged, pleasure becomes much harder to access.

“You have to relax your body and let go to have an orgasm,” she says. Before sexual activity, she often recommends simple breathing exercises or other somatic practices that help clients reconnect with their bodies before expecting them to respond sexually.

For Neuberg, learning to stop performing extended far beyond the bedroom. Dating after her divorce looked very different from what it had earlier in her life.

“If more people sought support simply because they wanted a richer, healthier relationship with themselves and their sexuality, we'd all be far more comfortable talking about sex,” Jimmerson says.