For two years now, I’ve been deceiving my husband. He thinks I still enjoy sex with him – in reality, it bores me stiff and leaves me cold. The reason has to be the menopause, although I had so few symptoms that I scarcely feel I’ve been through it. I had a few flushes and my periods stopped, but nothing else changed. Except that my whole erotic being just turned off overnight, like a switch being flipped in my head. My husband and I always made time to enjoy adventurous sex. I still love him as deeply as ever. To reject him, or suggest that he does without sex, would feel unspeakably cruel. To fake pleasure seems deceitful, so gradually we’ve shifted to the kind of male-centred sex I put up with in my 20s, which speeds things up. He’s not remarked on this shift and I made sure it happened slowly. Perhaps he has guessed the reason why, although I never let my boredom or irritation show. I’m certainly not done with living: my career is busy and demanding and I’m still in great shape. This un-sexing feels natural and welcome – a freeing-up of energy to flow into my work, my family and the rest of my life. I could never have imagined a celibate marriage – now it’s my ideal. My husband will soon turn 60, so surely at some point he will join me in the peaceful post-sexual world? I hope so. • Each week, a reader tells us about their sex life. Want to share yours? Email sex@theguardian.com. All submissions are published anonymously, and subject to our terms and conditions. Comments on this piece are premoderated to ensure the discussion remains on the topics raised by the article. Please be aware that there may be a short delay in comments appearing on the site.