During our 40-year marriage, our sex life has had its ups and downs. Early on, our libidos were well-matched, but after 20 years, sex was restricted to holidays and the occasional early morning rendezvous.

After menopause, I had serious health issues which meant my husband acted as my carer for a time. He was wonderful, loving and patient, but once that period was over, we struggled to return to a more sexual partnership. He was so afraid of hurting me and felt more parental than sexual towards me.

My health recovered, the kids left home and we retired. I thought this would spark a sexual renaissance, but soon after, he began experiencing erectile dysfunction. The little blue pill hasn’t helped and the other option is him getting a shot in his penis every time we want to have sex. He doesn’t want either of those options, doesn’t want to look for others, and is ready to give up on sex, even though I am not. He refuses to talk about it: end of subject.

I feel belittled and sad that we’re missing out on what could be a pleasurable part of life. He’s a good man, and we have fun, but we’re living like friends, with a lot of years to come. He seems to think that sex is all or nothing, so we have occasional hugs and brief kisses, but that’s it.

I love him, and I don’t want to have an affair; but I’m not sure I want to live another 20 years like this. He doesn’t seem to care.

• 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.