Let’s start with a simple question.
When it comes to intimacy, how do you know the difference between something you need and something you simply want?
It might seem obvious at first. But in my experience, this is one of the most confusing — and often unconscious — dynamics in relationships.
How you understand this distinction can make all the difference between pressure and ease, disconnection and desire.
The Need versus Want Difference
A need is something you must have in order to be able to fully engage. Without it, you don’t feel comfortable, relaxed, able to open.
Needs are about safety—physical, emotional, psychological and relational.
They create the conditions for connection.
A want, on the other hand, is something that would be nice.
It’s something that enhances the experience, that adds flavour, excitement, or variety.
But you could still engage without it.
Where It Gets Confusing
In intimate relationships, especially sexual ones, we often blur the line between the two.
We take a desire, a preference, a fantasy…and we start to believe it’s a need.
“This is just who I am.”
“This is what I need.”
But when a want is framed as a need, something subtle happens. It creates pressure.
And pressure is the fastest way to shut down desire.
Because the moment something becomes something you have to do, the body doesn’t open.
It protects.
It’s Not About the Thing
And here’s where it gets even more nuanced. It’s not actually about the behaviour itself. The same thing can be a want in one context…and a need in another.
Take something like lubricant.
Sometimes it’s simply a want—something that enhances the experience, adds pleasure, makes everything feel more luscious.
But other times, it’s a need. Because without it, intercourse would be uncomfortable… or even painful.
So the question isn’t what the thing is. The question is:
What function is it serving?
Does it help you feel safe, relaxed, able to open? Or is it something that adds playfulness, exploration, or excitement?
That distinction changes everything.
A Simple Example
I once worked with a couple who had just renovated their home. They’d created a beautiful bedroom with a large window—high up, no one could see in—so they didn’t bother with curtains.
Logically, it made perfect sense. But the wife didn’t feel comfortable to have sex without the window covered. Her body couldn’t relax and her nervous system couldn’t settle. She didn’t feel safe.
Her husband was baffled. “No one can see in,” he said. “It’s irrational.”
But this wasn’t a want. It was a need. She needed the window covered to feel safe enough to relax, open and connect.
Needless to say, they installed a blind—and she was perfectly fine after that.
When a Want Is Mistaken for a Need
Another couple came to me in a very different situation.
They had previously shared a dynamic where he took on a dominant role, and she enjoyed being more submissive. It had been mutual, playful and wonderfully erotic for them both.
But life shifted when they had a baby, and that dynamic no longer felt good to her. She didn’t want to be in that submissive role and be dominated. She wanted a partner, an equal, someone to share the load of parenting and life. And she needed their sexual expression to reflect that mutuality.
He, however, resisted the change. He insisted: “This is who I am. This is what I need.”
But it wasn’t a need. It was a desire that no longer matched the relationship they were in. And when it was held as a need, it created pressure—and that pressure was eroding their connection.
When they were able to soften that, and recognise it as something that had once been mutual but was no longer aligned, they found a new way of being together.
One that actually supported intimacy.
What We Actually Need
Here’s the deeper truth.
We don’t need sex. Not in the way we need food or water.
But we do need connection.
We are relational beings. We need closeness, intimacy. We need to feel met, seen, and safe with another. And sex—at its best—is an expression of that. A way of connecting through pleasure, of quite literally making love.
The Trap of Obligation
When wants are framed as needs, sexual activities can become obligations: “I’ll do this for you… if you do that for me.”
But sex doesn’t work as a trade. Because if your body doesn’t feel safe, relaxed and open—you can’t connect. You shut down.
And doing something for your partner that you don’t feel comfortable with because it’s been positioned as a “need”, that’s not intimacy. It’s compliance.
Not That There is Anything Wrong with Desires
Desires, on the other hand, are not the problem. Desires are where aliveness lives.
They are playful, creative, expressive. You might want to try something new, explore a fantasy, play with a different dynamic. All of that can be part of a rich, connected sexual relationship.
But it has to be mutual. Not negotiated through pressure—but created together through curiosity.
It’s About the Feeling
An essential part of this is shifting the focus away from the behaviour itself, and toward the feeling that behaviour is intended to create.
If the conversation stays at the level of behaviour, it can quickly turn into a stand-off:
“I want to do X.”
“I can’t do X.”
Or worse:
“You’re perverted.”
“You’re a prude.”
But what actually matters is why someone wants to do X.
Returning to the earlier example, when the husband explored his desire to be dominant in the bedroom, he realised it wasn’t the dominance itself that mattered most. It was the effect it had—her ability to let go, and the pleasure and response that evoked in her.
Once that became clear, the conversation shifted.
Instead of arguing about a specific dynamic, they could explore how to create a new way of relating that still elicited pleasure for her—pleasure that, at this stage of her life, had become more aligned with tenderness and mutuality.
You don’t even have to act on a desire for it to be part of your intimacy. Sometimes, simply sharing it is enough.To feel heard, known, and met in your inner world—that, in itself, is connecting.
In this same example, even if he missed aspects of their previous dynamic, he at least felt understood—and could appreciate why it no longer worked for her in this phase of life. (And who knows… perhaps at another time, with more space and energy, something of it might return...)
So the sharing itself becomes the connection.
And from that place, you may well be able to co-create something that works for both of you—based on the feeling, rather than the behaviour.
A Simple Way to Think About It
One way to understand this more simply is to think about something familiar—like planning a holiday.
One of you might want to lie by a pool in Fiji, while the other wants to cycle through New Zealand.
At first, those desires can seem completely incompatible. But when you look a little deeper, what matters isn’t the destination—it’s the feeling behind it. One might be longing for rest, ease, and restoration. The other for adventure, movement, and a sense of aliveness.
And once you understand that, the conversation changes. You’re no longer negotiating between two fixed options. You’re exploring how to create an experience that honours both. Perhaps it’s a more active holiday with moments of rest. Or a beautiful location where you can do a bit of both.
Sex works in exactly the same way. When you focus on the underlying feeling, rather than the specific behaviour, you open up far more possibilities for connection.
In Closing
So the next time you find yourself thinking, “I need this…”
Pause. And ask yourself:
Is this something I truly need in order to feel safe, relaxed, and open?
Or is this something I desire—something I’d love to explore and share?
Because sometimes we mistake a need for a desire.
We dismiss something as a “want”… when in reality, it’s what allows us to feel safe enough to connect. Something we’ve told ourselves is unreasonable or unnecessary—when in fact, it matters deeply.
And at other times, we do the opposite.
We take something we strongly desire—something that turns us on, that would enhance our experience—and elevate it into a need.
So it’s worth asking:
Is this something that fundamentally makes connection possible…
or something that would make it more enjoyable?
Because we can get this wrong in both directions.
We can turn desires into demands…
and we can minimise needs that genuinely matter.
And that small shift in awareness—being able to tell the difference—can transform pressure into invitation…
…and open the door to a very different kind of connection.
If you would like to delve deeper into this topic with more personal reflections, please stay with me in the Salon, video below!