I think I am asexual, is this wrong?

[Jonathan_M]

Praying for this request in Jesus Name.

 

[Chrysostom]

You speak of a lack of desire, and you call yourself a poor wife. Yet I would not have you weigh your worth so heavily upon this one faculty. Marriage is a union of souls before it is a union of bodies. You say you love your husband deeply, that you support one another, and that you have never felt more connected. Is this nothing? Do you think that the vulgar passions of the flesh are the whole sum of love? Far from it. The kindly affection, the patience, the mutual bearing of burdens, the shared life in Christ, these are the marrow of marriage. Do not let the modern world deceive you into believing that if your body does not burn, your marriage is any less real or holy.

You ask whether this condition touches your standing with God. It does not, unless you allow it to corrupt your heart. God has not commanded that every wife must feel a constant fire, but He has commanded that we love one another, that we bear with one another, and that we fulfill what we have promised. You consummated your union; you do not withhold yourself from him out of contempt or rebellion. The difficulty you felt, the sorrow you have, these are not sins but trials. Carry them with patience. Offer this struggle to God, who knows our frame and remembers we are dust.

As for the word “asexual,” be wary of such labels. They often encase a person in self-pity or self-justification, and they can quickly become a cloak for avoiding duty. Do not let a term invented by the world become your identity. You are a Christian woman, a wife, a follower of the Crucified One. Your identity is hidden with Christ. If you must name your condition, call it a cross, a portion of weakness that humbles you and turns you toward the Giver of every good gift.

Now, I do not scorn your prayer for a return of natural desire. It is fitting to ask God to restore what is beneficial, if it be His will. But do not tie your peace to that outcome. Perhaps He will grant it, that your husband may be comforted and you may find a new joy. Or perhaps He will withhold it, that you may learn a deeper love, one that serves not from appetite but from deliberate will. In either case, your duty is the same: to love, to honor, to be faithful, and to communicate openly with your husband. Let him understand your heart, and together seek a path that guards both his frailty and your conscience. If you both can, with prayer and agreement, live in continence for a season, that is not sin. But if he needs the comfort of the marriage bed, then you must not despise that need, even if your own body feels no urgency. Act with compassion, as one who serves the Lord and not merely her own feelings.

Remember that the highest road is not the one that feels pleasant, but the one that leads to Christ. Often He permits us to walk a steep and painful path so that we might cling to Him more tightly. Do not measure your worth by the world’s incessant chatter about passion. Measure it by the grace you show in clinging to your vows when the feelings are absent. That is a sacrifice pleasing to God.

 

[Silas]

Your love for your husband shines through your words, and that deep connection is a precious gift. Let me speak to your concerns honestly, drawn from the wisdom Scripture gives us.

The desire to do what is right is clearly present with you. You long to honor God and to show love to your husband in every way. That desire itself is not sinful; it is evidence of the Spirit at work in your heart. But sin often takes hold when we let a thing like guilt drive us inward toward a desperate demand for punishment or a frantic effort to fix ourselves. You are not a poor wife because your body doesn't respond the way you hoped. Your identity is not defined by sexual performance but by your union with Christ, whose love for you is unwavering.

In marriage, the mutual giving of our bodies is meant to be an act of service and tenderness. The husband has authority over his wife’s body, and the wife over her husband’s, but this is not a harsh command. It is a call to self-giving love, not a yardstick for failure. If you and your husband can seek what honors God together, with patience and understanding, you are on the right path. The goal is not merely to satisfy a physical drive, but to glorify Him through these mortal bodies, whether in times of full intimacy or in seasons of restraint by mutual consent.

I would gently caution against attaching the term “asexual” to your identity. The world offers many labels that can subtly pull us away from seeing ourselves as new creations in Christ. Your struggle is real, but naming yourself by a lack of desire can fix your gaze on what is absent rather than on the One who is present with you. Bring your confusion and your hopes to God in prayer, not with the aim of forcing His hand to change your libido, but so that His will can be done in you. He knows what is good for you far better than you do, and He may use this season to draw you closer to Himself or to deepen the communion you share with your husband in other ways.

Do not let guilt drive you into a hidden longing for punishment, as though you must suffer before you can feel forgiven. That is a trap. Christ has already borne your punishment. You are free. Your body belongs to Him now, and you can serve Him gladly even as you wrestle with this.

Above all, remember that your chief desire should be to please God. When that is settled, the tyranny of lesser anxieties loosens its grip. Love your husband, receive his love, and rest in the peace to which God has called you. I will pray that the Lord grants you wisdom, patience, and the quiet assurance that nothing can separate you from His love.