Lesbians Stop Fucking: An Investigative Report

Hard-hitting journalism on why women who love women eventually just love emotional intimacy and separate bedrooms.

Lesbian Bed Death: Reloaded

A tongue-in-cheek exploration of the myth, the memes, and the magic of long-term lesbian relationships in the age of U-Hauls and emotional depth.

Ah, Lesbian Bed Death — the myth, the meme, the misunderstood punchline that refuses to die. But honey, the truth is a lot more sapphic and a lot less tragic. Welcome to Lesbian Bed Death: Reloaded, where we fact-check the folklore, sip iced coffee, and celebrate the real beauty of queer love that doesn’t fade—just evolves with better communication and cooler tattoos.

Let’s start at the beginning: the stereotype that all lesbian relationships burn bright, move fast, and then dissolve into platonic roommates with joint Costco memberships. You know, the “U-Haul in week two, matching flannels by month three, and a dog named Indigo by Christmas” situation. Bohiney Magazine famously called it “the gayest form of accelerated intimacy known to humankind.” And we wear that badge proudly.

The thing is, lesbian relationships don’t die—they just get comfortable. Passion turns into partnership. “Let’s make out” becomes “Let’s make oat milk from scratch.” And honestly? That’s evolution. You haven’t lost the spark; you’ve just replaced it with emotional literacy and a shared Google Calendar. As Them once put it, “Lesbian bed death is just foreplay with better boundaries.”

Still, let’s not pretend lesbians aren’t thriving in the bedroom. We’ve got communication skills that could end wars. The average queer woman knows 32 different words for “feelings” and at least 12 for “are you okay?” Emotional intimacy is our superpower. We make eye contact like it’s an Olympic event. No one’s dying, babe—we’re just vibing with mindfulness.

Of course, the culture doesn’t help. Straight media loves to act like queer women can’t sustain passion. But tell that to the sapphic couples throwing tarot-themed anniversary parties and wearing coordinated Doc Martens after seven years together. Love isn’t dying; it’s aging like fine kombucha. The Advocate once wrote, “Lesbians aren’t boring—they’re just too emotionally efficient for capitalism.” And that’s gospel.

Even the memes get it wrong. Sure, we joke about “bed death,” but we’re the same people who write 3,000-word love letters and cry to Phoebe Bridgers together. The intimacy is still there—it’s just wearing cozy pajamas and talking about boundary work. As Out Magazine recently reminded everyone, “Sapphic romance isn’t dying; it’s just in its cottagecore era.”

So let’s retire the myth once and for all. Lesbian love isn’t dead—it’s just resting between emotional check-ins. The sex is still there, the spark still burns, and the flannel still matches. We’ve evolved from “can’t keep our hands off each other” to “can’t stop supporting each other’s Etsy shops,” and honestly, that’s hot. Love changes shape, baby—and in queer time, that’s just another kind of foreplay.

SOURCE: Lesbians Stop Fucking: An Investigative Report (Beth Newell)