‘Pink Viagra’ rescued my relationship

When the menopause left ALEXANDRA PETRA with a flagging libido she feared she’d lose her younger man. Then a herbal pill pepped things up...

When I met Rick five years ago, I was only looking for a bit of flirtatious fun while I licked my wounds following my latest break-up.

After my 15-year marriage ended in a difficult divorce, I’d had several relationships, but nothing had lasted.

I was 49 and mother to a teenager, and the prospect of spending the rest of my days drifting in a sexless desert did not appeal. I wasn’t prepared to accept a gradual slide into invisibility, nor did I intend to be forever single.

I knew I wouldn’t necessarily find a husband on a dating app, but I could find, well, a man to date. To flirt with. To have fun with.

however, the thing about dating apps, as opposed to traditional dating websites, is that the men tend to be young-ish. And the thing about younger men is that their libidos have not started to taper off yet. Which also means you have to keep up.

Five years ago, this wasn’t a problem. I hit my stride in my 40s. I came through the heartbreak of a divorce and got myself back into shape both emotionally and physically. I went to the gym several times a week, loved the occasional nip of Botox and had just as much energy as I’d had in my 20s.

Rick was a decade younger than me, and from the very start our relationship was intimate and passionate.

To be honest, we didn’t have much else in common. I’m a publishing executive from West London, with a love of net-aPorter and a serious blow dry and manicure habit. Rick was a hunky construction worker, and couldn’t be further from the Savile Row-suited men I’d been involved with in the past.

But I was profoundly attracted to him, and he to me. When we first met after connecting on an app, I’d been completely blown away by him.

he was an athletic lover, but also sensual and intuitive, and always completely focused on my pleasure. On date nights, we rarely went out. What can I say? At this point in our relationship we were perfectly physically matched.

It wasn’t long, however, before biology began to catch up with me. I was on the cusp of menopause, and the hormonal tide was going out. Suddenly that age gap, hitherto happily ignored, became an ever-widening gulf. I began to suffer night sweats and brain fog, while he joined a gym and became even more buff and beautiful.

As every woman past a certain age knows, declining oestrogen means it takes twice as much work to keep the weight off and maintain toned muscles.

When I first messaged Rick I was on holiday at a spa resort and happy to send him pictures of me poolside in a bikini, all flat tummy and tan. he’d fallen for my taut body and pert bottom, which, despite my efforts, were softening and rounding with age.

Most of all, I worried that as I got older I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Rick in bed. A fading libido is one of the last great taboos of menopause, yet more than half of all women say their sex life is negatively affected by the change.

In my view, it is the most depressing of all the menopausal symptoms. It doesn’t just diminish enjoyment of sex — it makes it less likely to happen at all. Menopausal women spend less time thinking and fantasising about sex, and have a tougher time getting in the mood in the first place.

Indeed, fearing we were no longer sexually compatible, I briefly finished things with Rick after three years together, only to spend days racked with regret. When I found him one evening standing on my doorstep with a table booked at my favourite restaurant, I breathed a sigh of relief and vowed to find a way past my fading libido.

If we were to stay together and I was to stop worrying about the differences between us, we had to keep our sex life as enjoyable for both of us as it had been. So one day, several weeks after we got back together, I decided to take charge and silence my fears.

First of all I would nip the hormonal nosedive in the bud with bioidentical testosterone (identical to the hormone women’s bodies make, on a molecular level) from the London hormone Clinic. Women, like men, need testosterone for sex drive. I’d heard about the clinic from one of the mums at school, who had been raving about the improvements she’d seen after using hormone replacement therapy ( hRT). Before the appointment I got a blood test done through my GP — though you can also do this privately — which showed that all hormones were through the floor.

Dr Jan Toledano, who runs the clinic, prescribed bioidentical oestradiol in the form of Oestrogel, a pump-action gel which contains oestrogen, as well as progesterone tablets (Utrogestan), which I now get on the Nhs through my GP.

But she also prescribed testosterone, which is just as important for women’s wellbeing. It’s the main hormone responsible for sex drive, orgasm and energy (and plays a role in maintaining muscle and bone mass and preventing heart disease).

It’s hard to get testosterone through your GP as a woman, as the testosterone is generally designed for men and comes in higher doses (though you can get it through a specialist menopause clinic).

I use a tailor- made cream which contains the amount of testosterone I need, created from plant extracts, which I rub onto my upper thigh in the morning. This costs about £90 for a six- month supply — less than a couple of takeaway coffees a week. It does far more for me than caffeine ever could!

On top of that I also began to take a nifty little pill called Lady Prelox, a blend of apparently aphrodisiac ingredients available over the counter at health food shops such as holland & Barrett. It’s known as the ‘ natural’ female Viagra.

I admit, at first I was sceptical when a health writer friend told me about these little pink pills. But she explained that they

contained an extract from the bark of the French maritime pine tree, called Pycnogenol — pronounced pic-noj- en-all — which supposedly widens blood vessels and restores healthy blood flow to areas of the body that need it for optimum arousal. The more blood, the greater the sensitivity, and the more intense the feeling.

Lady Prelox also includes Rosvita, a patented rosehip extract made from the blossoms of a wild rose plant, which is thought to keep you going for longer. It contains the amino acids L- arginine and L- citrulline, which have been shown to improve blood flow, too.

Unconvinced but willing to try anything, I began to take two a day. At first nothing happened, but then, after three or four weeks, I felt a distinct tingle. A buzz of excitement.

I hadn’t appreciated how gradually the effects build up, but day by day I felt a little more like the old me. A fortnight after that, and I was definitely more sensitive to Rick’s touch. After a couple of months, I’d say I was about 70 per cent more lusty than I had been, and a total convert to the pills.

It’s hard to describe exactly what I’ve got back. Most of all, I’ve rediscovered a sense of spontaneous friskiness — believing myself to be sexy and desirable again in an effortless, uncomplicated sort of way. Rather than feeling unsure and worrying about our increasingly mismatched libidos, I’m now able to lose myself utterly in the moment.

Rick has definitely noticed the difference in me, too. I told him I was going to take the pills, but I don’t think he really expected to see such a difference.

It doesn’t matter if he’s working double shifts, I’ll still launch myself on him the minute he walks through the door. He’ll laugh and accuse me of nymphomania, but secretly, I think he loves this lusty new me. ‘You’re awesome, honey,’ he says as I shower him with kisses at 5am, before he can escape to work.

I started my new regime six months ago, and I’m 54 now. The sex is just as good and just as plentiful. Those little pills and my testosterone have cemented what was always the foundation of our relationship. BUT now that I no longer question the physical side of things, something else wonderful has happened.

Despite our differences in, frankly, most other areas of life, we have grown closer than ever. I have learned my relationship with Rick isn’t just about spectacular sex, but can also be deeply loving in those mundane, everyday ways that in the end make something truly special.

We rub along happily together, content in the day-to-day breadand-butter humdrum of life. I don’t know if it’s generational or not, but there’s a lot to be said for a man who buys the cat food and does the washing up without making a fuss. It’s blissful.

He buys me flowers from the greengrocer and does the shopping on the way home without me even asking, picking up M&S cherry tomatoes or organic steak from Waitrose.

He is Mr Fix It, unblocking drains and trimming wisteria, or helping me clear out the loft. He’s also got a fine eye for Agent Provocateur silk lingerie, and £400 Spanish riding boots from Penelope Chilvers of Notting Hill.

Rick is my anchor and my life raft. I love having him there, always steady. He’s someone I can count on. Where once I dismissed our adventure as a bit of fun, now I think we’re happily in it for the long haul.

I know there will come a time when we’re both too old for fireworks every night. But I no longer worry about what we’ll talk about then. These days, we’re so relaxed together that even the silences are fine.

However, I am certain of one thing. When Rick does start feigning sleep, or complaining of a headache, I am planning on introducing him to the male equivalent of my little pink pills, pronto. Otherwise he’ll never keep up with me.