A look at “Profiles of Traumatic Sexuality in Sex Therapy Patients: A Comparison of Interpersonal Trauma History and Sexual Well-Being” by Nadia Willard Martel, Ateret Gewirtz-Meydan, Shalie-Emma Vaillancourt, Martine Hébert and Natacha Godbout (2025)
A gentle note: this post discusses sexual and interpersonal trauma in general terms.
For many people who have experienced trauma, the effects don’t stay neatly in the past. They can show up in the most intimate moments: zoning out during sex, unwanted memories flashing in, a wave of shame, or going along with things to keep a partner happy. Researchers call this traumatic sexuality: trauma-related stress responses that surface specifically in sexual contexts. This Canadian study asked whether people experience it in distinct patterns.
What they found
The researchers worked with 484 people seeking sex therapy in Quebec, across universities, hospitals and private and community clinics. Participants completed a questionnaire measuring six dimensions of traumatic sexuality:
- dissociation (feeling detached or “not there”) during sex;
- intrusive thoughts or memories;
- shame and guilt about sex;
- pleasing the other, putting a partner’s wishes before your own;
- interpersonal distress;
- hypervigilance, or feeling on high alert.
They also asked about trauma history and sexual wellbeing. Three profiles emerged.
- Low traumatic sexuality (88%): low to moderate scores across the board.
- Dissociative-pleasing (10%): high on zoning out and on prioritising a partner’s pleasure, but less marked on other dimensions.
- High traumatic sexuality (2.5%): elevated scores on all six dimensions.
The two higher profiles were more likely to have experienced interpersonal trauma, including sexual trauma, and reported poorer sexual wellbeing. The authors argue that therapy needs to be tailored to these different patterns rather than taking a one-size-fits-all approach.
A grain of glitter ✨
The study is useful in showing that trauma doesn’t affect sexuality in just one way, and the “dissociative-pleasing” pattern is particularly recognisable to many therapists. It echoes the “fawn” response, where people appease others to stay safe. But a few things are worth noting.
The smallest group, at just 2.5%, contained only around a dozen people, so conclusions about it are tentative. Profile methods like this are exploratory, and different samples might produce different groupings. It’s a snapshot, so we can’t say trauma caused these patterns. Everyone was already seeking sex therapy, so the findings may not apply to the wider population. And the questionnaire was developed by one of the study’s own authors. That’s common, but it means it hasn’t yet been widely tested by others.
Why this matters
If you find yourself drifting away during sex, or going along with things you don’t really want in order to keep the peace, you’re not broken. These can be very understandable responses to past experiences. Trauma-informed therapy, which can include sex therapy, can help you reconnect with your body and your own desires, at a pace that feels safe.
Your pleasure matters as much as anyone else’s. Even unicorns are allowed to say “actually, I’d rather not”, or “yes please, more of that!”