Why I became a sexologist—and what people actually talk about

Working as a sexologist is something I am often asked about. “Why did you become a sexologist?” “What do people actually talk about?” “Does it always have to be about sex?”
The answer is both simple and complex. For me, it is about creating space for what it means to be human—relationships, desire, worry, longing and being present in the body. The conversations can hold both pain and joy.

My path here

My original plan was not to become a sexologist. I had probably never even considered it when I decided to train as a midwife. Working in maternity care felt incredibly meaningful. I met people during one of life’s most intense experiences—with everything from pain and euphoria to vulnerability and strength.

Later, I began working at a youth clinic—and that is where my interest in sexology was truly awakened. I met young people with so many unanswered questions about the body, sexuality, identity, desire, boundaries and closeness. Many carried uncertainty, shame or fear. I realised how little space there often is to talk about sex and intimacy—in healthcare, in society and even with the people closest to us.

I have always cared deeply about people’s wellbeing. The more I worked with sexual health, the clearer it became that many people suffer unnecessarily.
There is a silence around sexual health, and within that silence there is a great deal of suffering. Opening up space for conversation and guidance creates the possibility of change.

I felt that this was where I could truly make a difference.

It is never about “performing better” in intimate situations. It is about reducing difficult feelings such as shame, stress and expectations—and exploring together: What do I really want? How do I want to feel in my body and in my relationship?

What do people discuss with a sexologist?

A common assumption is that sexologists only talk about sex in its most concrete form—technique and function. That does happen, of course. More often, however, the conversation is about something else, something deeper:

“I have lost my desire. What is holding it back?”

“My partner wants sex more often than I do—is something wrong with me? Does it mean I should have sex even when I do not want to?”

“Sex is painful. How can I deal with it?”

“I find it difficult to get an erection during intimate moments with my partner. I feel pressure to perform.”

“I feel guilt and shame, but I do not understand why. How can I work with those feelings?”

As a sexologist, I often meet people whose sexual difficulties are connected to pain, reduced desire, difficulty reaching orgasm, or a sense that the body no longer functions as it once did. Difficult feelings are also common and can easily affect both sexuality and self-esteem.

In couples, I see how sex often becomes the centre of attention when the relationship itself is in crisis. Sometimes we focus too much on sex when the underlying issue is closeness, security or unresolved conflict. Sex then becomes a symptom rather than the problem itself.

People seek a sexologist to feel understood, understand themselves better and find words for things they may never have said aloud before.

The role of the sexologist

My role is not always to provide a ready-made solution. It is to ask helpful questions, guide the conversation and help each person find an approach that may work for them. Sometimes the concern is of a kind where practical advice can be useful.
At the end of a conversation, someone may say:
“I never thought I would be able to talk about this—but now I feel relieved.”

That is exactly what I want to offer: a safe space where what feels forbidden or shameful can be understood for what it is—a human experience that deserves to be heard.

Sexuality is never only about sex

Sexuality is connected to identity, closeness, self-image and relationships. For some people it is central; for others it is barely present. Both are equally valid.
As a sexologist, I meet people at many stages of life: younger and older adults, new parents, people living with long-term pain, trans people, couples in crisis, single people with questions, people with disabilities and many others.

What they have in common is that they are carrying something important.