By Karen Bigman
If you’d told me twenty years ago that I’d spend my sixties talking openly about vibrators, libido, and low testosterone, I would have laughed, blushed, and changed the subject. Back then, I was fluent in COBOL, not clitoral stimulation. I started as a computer programmer, moved into marketing, then spent fifteen years as a stay-at-home mom managing potty training, playdates, and private-school admissions like a full-time project plan. My life was predictable, and—as I later realized—deeply disconnected from pleasure.
When Silence Became the Default Setting
In the last few years of my marriage, there wasn’t much sex. We didn’t fight about it; we simply… stopped. It was the kind of silence that sneaks in and then becomes normal. I used to initiate, but after being rejected more than once (which, by the way, is not supposed to happen to women, right?) I shut down. Each “not tonight” felt like another little erasure of me. I started to think there must be something wrong with me—too needy, too insensitive. Pick your flavor of self-blame.
When I finally left the marriage, it was for a multitude of reasons—none of them glamorous and all of them necessary. We had an amicable divorce (which, if you’ve ever been there, you know is about as rare as a unicorn sighting). And even in that peace, I had no idea what awaited me on the other side.
The Divorcierge Era
After years of running the household, I turned my attention outward and created a business called The Divorcierge—a concierge service for women navigating divorce. I was the go-to for appointments, paperwork, emotional triage… and the occasional “just send chocolate” request. It felt meaningful, but after a few years, I realized I was absorbing too many life stories—too many women in grief, silence, shame. I closed the business because I was carrying their pain in my bones.
Getting certified as a life coach and working with people struggling with divorce taught me an enormous amount. Most importantly, I learned how to listen. I learned how to ask the questions no one else would ask. I learned how to create a safe space for stories that people were too afraid to speak aloud. I just didn’t know yet that the next story would be mine.
The Cosmic Joke
Dating again seemed like the next natural chapter. I’d ticked all the boxes—therapy, self-care, new haircut phase—and I arrived at the “let’s see what’s possible” party ready … or so I thought. The first time I tried to be intimate, my body simply didn’t show up. No fireworks, no tingle—just the quiet hum of “I guess we’re done?” I thought the universe was punishing me: “You divorced? Fine. No orgasms for you.”
When I told my doctor, she delivered the old classic: “It’s probably in your head.” I wanted to reply: “Well, then, could you screen my head and send me the bill?” Eventually, she referred me to a sexual-medicine practice—and that turned out to be the best referral of my life.
For the first time, someone said, “Yes. This matters. And yes, we can help.” They tested my testosterone levels-the hormone most responsible for libido and orgasms-it turned out it was practically non-existent. It wasn’t that my body hated me; it was that it had been under-activated and under-spoken. Then they introduced me to something I’d never considered a legitimate medical tool: vibrators. Not as gimmicks, but as tools for pleasure and healing. And most importantly, they taught me how to talk openly about sex and sexual dysfunction. Because yes: sex is a right, and we’ve been treating it like a mystery novel with missing pages.
Reprogramming My Body
The clinic’s message was revolutionary: Pleasure isn’t optional. It’s not a luxury. It’s part of being human. And if you’ve been told otherwise (or your body hasn’t responded the old way), that doesn’t mean you’re broken—it just means you’re due for an update.
I began to reclaim my voice. Conversations about sex lives (or the lack thereof) kept coming up over martinis and wine with my girlfriends. These conversations went from whispers to uproarious laughter, shared tears, and expletives I never thought I’d utter in polite company. The truth is: we were all in the same boat—not broken, just drowning in silence.
Finding My Frequency
The years I spent as a divorce coach taught me that so many women felt invisible. But this sexual awakening showed me a new layer of invisibility: the one where you don’t believe your body still has a story. Society whispers, “Desire is for the young.” I decided to shout, “No, this is for me too.”
The Birth of Taboo to Truth
And then it happened. After yet another midlife friend whispered in shame, “I haven’t had sex in years,” I had the idea: why are we still whispering? Why isn’t someone turning the mic on? My sexual awakening and community inspired me to take the leap into my next chapter.
Enter Taboo to Truth: Life & Sex After 50. With a microphone in hand, I decided to amplify the conversation. We talk about menopause, libido, dating apps that feel like job interviews, vibrator etiquette, silent partners, broken orgasms, and the joy of owning your body again. Because if sex is your right, then talking about it is your privilege.
I trained as a Certified Sexuality Educator and Menopause Coach. I studied hormone charts, pleasure maps, and communication scripts. I leaned into the science and leaned out of the shame. Somewhere between reading brain-based studies and explaining how to say “more pressure” instead of “oh … whatever,” I found my next career.
60 Is the New 60
By the time I hit 60, I stopped trying to pretend I was forty. I didn’t need to. I coined my own philosophy: 60 is the new 60—because this decade deserves its own headline. It’s not about rewind; it’s about remix. My body may have changed, but my curiosity is bigger. My confidence is deeper. And my capacity for joy? Off the charts.
I’ve learned that pleasure isn’t just about sex; it’s about presence. It’s about giving yourself permission to feel again, to ask for what you need, to laugh mid-kiss. It’s about realizing you’re still unfinished—and that’s actually the exciting part. So yes, I talk about vibrators, menopause, and kinky sex on a microphone every week. And if that makes someone uncomfortable, good. Discomfort is where truth begins. Because midlife isn’t the end of desire—it’s the moment we finally get to define it on our own terms.
Karen Bigman is a certified sex educator through the Sexual Health Alliance, an intimacy and menopause coach, and a midlife sexpert for both men and women. She hosts the podcast Taboo to Truth: Life & Sex After 50, which sheds light on what sex, desire, and connection look like after 50. Her work is centered on destigmatizing sexuality, intimacy, desire, and pleasure in midlife and beyond. You can follow Karen’s work on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook and subscribe to her Youtube Channel.
