The Stories We Bring to Bed: Exploring Sexual Scripts with Anna Moochoon

Published on October 28, 2026 at 9:55 PM

Sometimes, the most important part of an intimate encounter is something neither person has said.

There may be affection, a familiar touch, a small movement towards one another. And beneath it, a quiet expectation.

If you love me, you will want me.

If I have to explain, it will lose its meaning.

If we are happy together, this should come easily.

We rarely enter the room announcing these beliefs. Often, we do not quite know we carry them. We notice the hurt, the hesitation, or the feeling that something has gone wrong. The expectation itself remains just out of sight.

In therapy, we can make a little room to become acquainted with it.

From a worldview to a script

In my previous article, we explored a sexological worldview: the wider understanding we carry about sexuality. What is sex, fundamentally, to you? An expression of love? A source of pleasure? A sacred union? A responsibility within a relationship? Perhaps several of these, woven together.

A sexual script brings those broader meanings into the particulars of an encounter.

It holds something of what we expect to happen, who might initiate, how desire should appear, and what a partner’s response will mean. It may also tell us what we are allowed to ask for, what we ought to enjoy, and what we should already know.

If our worldview gives sexuality its place in our lives, a script supplies some of the unwritten lines.

We acquire these lines through experience. Through family conversations and silences, religious teachings, films, friendships, and our own relationships. Some we consciously embrace. Others become familiar before we have had much opportunity to question them.

There is nothing inherently wrong with having a script. Shared expectations can offer familiarity and ease. What deserves our attention is how a particular expectation meets the person we are now, and the relationship we are actually living.

When wanting becomes proof of love

Imagine that sex holds a cherished place in your understanding of love. It is a way of feeling close, chosen, and known.

Within that understanding, an expectation might quietly form:

If you love me, you will want me.

One evening, you reach towards your partner. They are tired and would rather sleep.

There is the moment itself. Then there is what the moment seems to say.

You no longer find me attractive.

Perhaps you turn away. Perhaps you ask for reassurance, but it comes out as criticism. Your partner hears displeasure, while you are trying to express hurt.

Neither person may recognise the expectation that has entered the room between them.

In a session, I might ask, “What did their response mean to you in that moment?”

We may discover that the pain reaches beyond that evening. The invitation carried a question: Am I still wanted? Your partner answered a question about readiness, while you heard an answer about your place in their heart.

Understanding this gives us something more precise to talk about.

When care leaves little room for preference

For someone else, sexuality may be closely connected with commitment and caring for a partner.

An expectation might grow around that meaning:

Being a good partner means being available.

An invitation arrives. Before noticing their own response, the person imagines the other’s disappointment. They agree, perhaps warmly, while a quieter preference goes unheard.

Their partner may have no idea that anything has been set aside.

Over time, it may become difficult to distinguish I want this from I want you to feel loved. Both can be present. But they are different experiences, and each deserves words.

Here, I would be curious about the small space before agreement.

Can you notice your own inclination? Can you ask for something different? Does a gentle refusal feel possible?

Caring for another person can include speaking honestly about what feels welcome. Affection need not make our preferences disappear.

When “natural” means effortless

You may understand sexuality as instinctive, something the body simply knows.

From there, another familiar script can emerge:

If the attraction is real, we should not have to work anything out.

Yet an actual encounter may include uncertainty. Someone needs more time. A touch feels different today. One person would like guidance, while the other longs to be understood without explaining.

A question such as “What would feel good?” can then land unexpectedly.

Instead of hearing interest, someone hears inadequacy. Surely you should know.

The expectation of effortlessness can make ordinary communication feel like evidence of a problem.

But there can be tenderness in learning another person. In asking, listening, adjusting, and discovering that familiarity still leaves room for surprise.

Even someone who knows us well cannot always know what we are experiencing today.

When freedom becomes another expectation

Some scripts arrive in language that sounds wonderfully permissive.

Sex is pleasure. Sex is exploration. Sex is freedom.

And then, almost unnoticed, freedom acquires a requirement:

I should be adventurous.

A person may hesitate to express a limit because it seems to contradict the person they believe they ought to be. They wonder whether a preference is too ordinary, whether reluctance means inhibition, whether they should enjoy something simply because they are open minded.

We can pause here, too.

What does freedom feel like from the inside?

Perhaps it includes curiosity. Perhaps it includes choosing something familiar. Perhaps it is the relief of saying, “That does not appeal to me,” and discovering that nothing needs to be defended.

A worldview that welcomes pleasure can also make room for discernment.

How an unwritten rule becomes a familiar pattern

These expectations often operate before we put them into words.

Something happens. We give it a meaning. A feeling follows, and we respond.

Our response then becomes part of the other person’s experience.

If I become quiet because I feel unwanted, you may experience my silence as distance. If you step back to give me space, I may read that distance as further evidence that you no longer want me.

A pattern begins to form around meanings neither of us has fully expressed.

This does not mean that every disappointment comes from a mistaken interpretation. Sometimes a need is repeatedly overlooked. Sometimes an agreement has been broken. Understanding our scripts helps us describe what is happening more clearly, including what we need to address together.

The same worldview can also hold more than one possibility.

Sex expresses love might give rise to You should know without asking.

It might also give rise to Because we care for one another, we can speak openly about what we enjoy.

There is room within a familiar belief for a different way of relating.

A small moment of curiosity

If you would like, bring to mind a recent, manageable moment of disappointment or uncertainty around intimacy.

Choose something you feel comfortable considering today.

Before trying to explain the whole encounter, ask yourself:

What was I expecting to happen?

If it had happened, what would it have meant to me?

When something else happened, what did I begin to believe?

Perhaps a sentence appears.

I thought you would initiate.

I hoped you would notice.

I wanted to feel chosen.

There may be a tender wish beneath the expectation. Let yourself hear it before deciding what to do with it.

Then consider whether that wish could become a conversation.

“I realised that when I always initiate, I sometimes begin to feel unsure whether you want me. I would like to understand how it feels for you.”

A sentence like this gives the other person a place to meet us. It makes our experience more visible, while leaving room for theirs.

Finding words of your own

In sex therapy, we can become curious about the stories organising your intimate life. Where did they come from? What have they offered you? Where do they leave you feeling constrained, misunderstood, or alone?

You may decide that some still fit beautifully. Others may need a little more room.

The work can begin with noticing one unwritten line, and allowing yourself to wonder whether it is the only line available.

There is time to find words that belong more closely to your own experience.

Considering therapy?

Therapy can offer a private, thoughtful space to explore the expectations, experiences and meanings that shape your sexuality and relationships.

Learn about sex therapy, or schedule a free 15 minute consultation to explore whether working together feels like a good fit. I offer online therapy for adults in Maryland.