Too distracted during sex to enjoy it? Here's why—and 9 ways to stay in the moment
Catching a glimpse of yourself getting it on in the mirror can be hot, but ‘watching’ yourself as if from above, evaluating every scrunch of your face and sound you make during sex? Eh, not so much. As it turns out, there is a word for this phenomenon: spectatoring.
‘Spectatoring is the act of stepping outside of yourself during a sexual experience and becoming a third-party observer rather than an active participant,’ says Carolina Pataky, Dr, LMFT, a sexologist and co-founder of South Florida's Love Discovery Institute. Coined in the 1970s by two prominent sex therapists, William Masters and Virginia Johnson (aka Masters and Johnson), spectatoring refers specifically to the detachment that can accompany self-consciousness during sex. The antithesis of being present, ‘spectatoring typically occurs when someone is so focused on their performance, appearance, or ability to meet their partner’s expectations that they can’t be fully in the moment,’ says Pataky.
If you've ever felt like your apparition is watching you and your boo while you bone, you might worry there’s something wrong with you or your relationship—but actually, the culprit is society. Ahead, sex therapists break down the causes and costs of spectatoring during sex, and offer tips on how to stay in the moment.
Meet the experts: Carolina Pataky, PhD, LMFT, is a sexologist and co-founder of South Florida's Love Discovery Institute. Nicole Davis, LCSW, clinical director at the Gender & Sexuality Therapy Center in New York.
Stress and unrealistic standards are usually the cause of spectatoring
Nobody is a complete blank slate the first time they have sex. Rather, you arrive in the bedroom having already internalised unrealistic messages—often propagated by sex-negative teachings, puritanical upbringings, and the pervasiveness of (misogynistic) porn—about what sex should look, feel, and sound like, according to Pataky. This can lead to shame and self-consciousness, which can, in turn, lead to spectatoring.
‘Cultural scripts tell us what counts as sex and how it should unfold,’ she says. These widespread scripts champion a narrow view of what sex should be: Mainly, vaginal intercourse between two married, heterosexual, and cisgender individuals that happens at a certain pace and ends in simultaneous orgasms, she says. These scripts ‘can make you feel like you’re falling short if you are not adhering to them,’ she says.
Sure, popular series like Sex Education, The Sex Lives of College Girls, and The Principles of Pleasure have helped promote the idea that sex is far more expansive than just penis-in-vagina intercourse and that pleasure—not orgasm—should be the primary objective of sex. But from billboards to advertisements to social media, there are still plenty of places perpetuating myths about sexual, sexuality and gender ‘shoulds.’
All of these ‘shoulds’ and ‘should-nots’ can cause you to start feeling anxiety or shame about your sexuality, preferences, or pleasure, which can lead to spectatoring during sex, says Nicole Davis, LCSW, clinical director at the Gender & Sexuality Therapy Center in New York. This can also be particularly common among queer folks who are already battling internalised homophobia, transphobia, and gender dysphoria, she says.
Spectatoring can also stem from pre-existing stress and anxiety, adds Pataky. ‘[These conditions] activate the body’s fight-or-flight response, which can make it hard to relax and focus on physical sensations of sex,’ she explains.
Spectatoring creates a vicious cycle of disconnection and self-criticism
‘Watching yourself as a “spectator” can be a painful experience,’ says Pataky. Being critical of your performance and appearance mid-coitus results in a mental preoccupation that disconnects you from your own body, she says. ‘This makes the touch, arousal, and other sensory experiences that make intimacy pleasurable feel dull or even absent.’
And while pleasure is always more important than orgasm, spectatoring does create a significant barrier to climax, according to Pataky. ‘Achieving orgasm often requires letting go and fully immersing oneself in the experience, something that spectatoring inhibits by keeping the individual stuck in a self-critical mental loop,’ she says.
Beyond the sexual side effects, spectatoring can leave individuals feeling inadequate post-sex, says Pataky. It’s a vicious cycle: You become a spectator to your own sexual experiences out of fear of not being enough, which robs you of the affirming, connective potential of sex, which in turn amplifies those anxieties surrounding inadequacy, she explains.
Breaking the pattern and becoming present during sex is possible—and it starts outside of the bedroom
‘If someone is frequently engaged in spectatoring during sex, it's highly likely that they are disconnected from their body in other areas of their life as well,’ says Davis. That’s because spectatoring during sex isn’t just (or even primarily) about the sex you’re having—it’s mostly a result of all the societal messaging you’ve amassed over the years about sex and gender, she says. With that, ‘reducing the risk of spectatoring starts with cultivating habits outside the bedroom that promote relaxation, mindfulness, and self-acceptance,’ according to Pataky.
Regularly integrating soothing mindfulness practices such as yoga, meditation, deep breathing, grounding, gratitude journalling, and colouring can turn down the volume on pre-existing stress, which can lead to less spectatoring, per Pataky. ‘These practices train individuals to focus on the present moment, a skill that translates directly to intimacy,’ she says.
Rest assured, you don’t have to become a full-blown yogi or meditation guru to reap the sexual benefits of mindfulness. ‘If you spend a lot of time sitting at a computer, even trying to bring awareness to what your body feels like while sitting, how the chair feels on your back, and the sensation of your fingers on your chair can have a carry-over effect to sex,’ according to Davis.
Fostering a healthy self-image through activities like journalling, engaging in regular physical activity, practising positive affirmations, and fine-tuning your social feeds can help counteract the self-critical mindset that drives spectatoring, says Pataky.
Also important is to address any insecurities, trauma, or shame surrounding your gender, sexuality, desires, and overall self with the help of a therapist, she says. Ideally, you’ll want to find one who specialises in your area of need—meaning they are trauma-informed, queer-inclusive, or kink-knowledgeable, for example.
Of course, what does (or doesn’t) go down during sex can impact whether or not you become a spectator
It might sound obvious, but an essential ingredient in staying present in the feel-good sensations of sex is making sure the sensations actually feel good! So, as soon as you find yourself levitating when you want to be love-making, Pataky suggests checking in with your bodily wants with a body scan.
Never heard of her? ‘Body scanning is a mindfulness practice that helps cultivate awareness of physical sensations and brings attention to the present moment,’ Pataky says. It is a technique that involves moving your focus up and down your body, asking each part questions, such as:
What do you want? Do you want to be touched? How do you want to be touched?
Do you want the current type of touch to continue? What kind of touch would you prefer instead?
How are you touching your partner(s)? How would you prefer to be touching them instead?
Doing a Q&A helps narrow your focus on your body, which can stop you from overthinking the experience, she says. Not to mention, it can lead to more pleasurable sex because you know what you want, which allows you to ask for it.
Dirty talking can also bring you back to the moment, according to Pataky. In particular, narrating what is happening as it is happening (e.g., I’m kissing my way down your stomach) can help you stay aware of what is happening. Important to note is that this technique isn’t universally effective. ‘For some, dirty talking can feel like added pressure to perform, which may exacerbate spectatoring,’ she says. Here, asking your partner to narrate their actions can be a helpful workaround that keeps you in the moment, she says.
Another alternative to dirty talking that can feel lower pressure is to share one positive thing you’re feeling or experiencing, says Pataky. The simple act of complimenting your partner or naming a single thing that feels good can be enough to snap you back into your body, she says. ‘It turns your focus back on the shared experience, transforming it into a space of presence, connection, and mutual pleasure.’
Certain kinds of sex may be less likely to lead to spectatoring
Remember, sex doesn’t look like just one thing. ‘Mindful masturbation, tantric sex, and erotic massage can be transformative tools for individuals looking to break free from spectatoring,’ according to Pataky. These practices emphasise slowing down, focusing on physical sensations, and fostering a deeper connection with yourself and your partner(s).
Mindful masturbation: The act of staying present while going at it solo, ‘mindful masturbation encourages you to explore your own body and responses without judgement,’ says Pataky. Paying attention to how your body feels as you masturbate can help you develop the skill of focusing on physical sensations, which you can later utilise during partnered (or group) sex.
Tantric sex: Tantric sex is here-and-now, slow-and-steady sex. It’s sex that prioritises the process (pleasure) over any particular outcome (orgasm), making it particularly beneficial for those who struggle with anxiety or self-consciousness during intimacy, says Pataky. If going full-blown tantric doesn’t feel accessible, consider starting with beginner-friendly elements such as eye-gazing and breath-syncing.
Erotic massage: If you go into autopilot as soon as you and your boo start fooling around, Pataky suggests interrupting your usual sexual routine with erotic massage. Erotic massages involve applying pressure, kneading, and stroking the recipient’s muscles and other erogenous zones for pleasure—often to the tune of calming music and the scent of essential oils. By marrying the stress-busting benefits of massage and the arousal potential of touch, ‘erotic massage can create a safe space for vulnerability and presence, helping to counteract the patterns that lead to spectatoring,’ she says.
Being next-level connected during sex doesn’t have to be the goal—simply being present may suffice
If spectatoring has become your M.O., the distance between where you are and the kind of connected sex championed by rom-coms might feel miles wide. And while conquering that distance and landing back in the land of connection and climax is absolutely possible, Davis says it’s also important to remember that sex can be good, meaningful, and healthy even when it isn’t as connected as Grey’s Anatomy is to Private Practice.
‘Sex can also be fun and playful, daring and exciting, or anything else that someone enjoys—so long as all parties involved are consenting to the sex, there's no right or wrong way to do it,’ she says. Remember: It’s that thought system that has likely contributed to spectatoring in the first place!
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