Being diagnosed with cancer makes you imagine all sorts of scenarios about the future. Will I survive? How will my children cope? But, I must admit, questioning whether I was a ‘proper wife’ to my husband Andy wasn’t something I imagined.Yet, almost five years after being told I had breast cancer, that’s exactly where I find myself today.The reason for this is intimate and deeply upsetting: our sex life has all but vanished. My illness has totally robbed me of my libido and I don’t know if it will ever return.I’m 53 now and when Andy and I first got together in 2010, we had sex almost every day. As life settled down and our children Hunter, 14, and Autumn, 12, came along, that naturally became about once a week. Now we make love only about once every three months.What makes it all so heartbreaking is Andy really is the most amazing lover, the best I’ve ever had.When we met, we were both working on the Sky One show Angela And Friends, hosted by Angela Griffin. He was a producer and I was a guest presenter. Andy is ten years younger than me and when we first had sex, I felt able to completely let go.In my 20s and 30s, when I was presenting shows including The Girlie Show on Channel 4 and the BBC’s Top Of The Pops, I had lots of good sex with many handsome men, but I often worried about what they thought of my body.With Andy, I didn’t have those anxieties. He made it clear that he loved every inch of me and found my body a massive turn-on and there’s nothing more empowering than having a partner like that. Almost five years after being told I had breast cancer, our sex life has all but vanished. My illness has totally robbed me of my libido and I don’t know if it will ever return, reveals SarahBeing adored makes you feel sexy and, as a result, you become a better lover in return. Then came my diagnosis in August 2021 and everything changed. I’d just undergone my first mammogram and was called back for more tests. When they sent me for a biopsy, I knew it was serious.I’d lost a close friend to an aggressive form of breast cancer a couple of years earlier, so when my consultant showed Andy and me the scan and explained it was a small, stage one, ‘grade two’ tumour which had been caught early and was highly treatable, I felt relieved.I had a lumpectomy, followed by radiotherapy and am now on a five-year course of aromatase inhibitors medication until 2028. These drugs will reduce the risk of recurrence by suppressing my body’s production of oestrogen, effectively creating a medically induced menopause.However, unlike a natural menopause, I didn’t go slowly into it, I plunged in.The first signs were hot flushes, which happened about 20 times a day. It felt like someone kept turning up my internal thermostat and feeling the heat bubbling up inside made me feel sick.Then came the joint pain, which I now keep under control by doing three weights workouts a week to strengthen my muscles.Many menopausal women ease these symptoms with HRT, but for those like me who have suffered from hormone-induced cancer, it can be more complicated.I was advised against HRT by my doctor, and I have chosen to follow his advice. A couple of months after starting the medication, came something I could never have predicted: vaginal dryness – or vaginal atrophy – and vaginismus, which made sex agonising When Andy and I first got together in 2010, we had sex almost every day. As life settled down that became about once a week. Now we make love only about once every three monthsThen, a couple of months after starting the medication, came something I could never have predicted: vaginal dryness – or vaginal atrophy – and vaginismus, an involuntary tightening of the pelvic floor muscles, which made sex agonising.Simply put, my pelvic floor is so tight that it feels like there’s a wall in the way.Of course, I googled to see whether other breast cancer survivors had experienced this but nobody was talking about it. That’s why I want to talk honestly about this, so other women in the same situation know they’re not the only ones. I went to the doctor and got a referral to a gynaecologist, but I found that the advice to ‘try relaxing’ and ‘use a good lubricant’ didn’t help.Every time Andy and I became intimate, I started tensing up in anticipation of the pain and, because Andy knew he was hurting me, he eventually stopped instigating sex.With my lack of libido meaning I never felt like making the first move, it became a vicious circle. Before we knew it, sexless weeks turned into sexless months.Andy was very understanding, but I found the sudden change really frustrating and I feel huge guilt.I think that men need physicality to feel loved. And I make sure Andy knows how I’m feeling has nothing to do with him.Ryan Gosling could walk into the room right now and go, ‘Cawood, how about it?’ and I’d say, ‘Can you just give me a foot rub?’Andy and I try to stay intimate in other ways, by maintaining some physical touch.Even just a cuddle and a kiss or something you wouldn’t do with a friend, like holding hands or snuggling on the sofa, helps to make you feel like more than just flatmates.Physical pain has been one thing, but emotionally the loss of desire has been the hardest thing to come to terms with.You know that flutter you get in your tummy and down below when you’re around someone you fancy? Now there’s nothing, and that’s really sad. I really miss feeling turned on.One thing I never take for granted is how understanding Andy has been. He may have stopped instigating things in the bedroom, but he’s found other ways of showing me he loves me. The other day I was feeling really sad. I’d been crying in the bath, and I got out and walked into our bedroom to find he’d drawn the blinds, lit candles and put on Classic FM.I went downstairs and asked, ‘Did you make the bedroom nice?’ He said, ‘Yeah. I thought you needed cheering up.’It wasn’t a sex thing, just his way of looking after me.Last year, we had 12 weeks of couples therapy. We were bickering all the time because of the stress of the situation, the frustration that our relationship had changed. TV presenter Sarah Cawood (left) with her fellow host of The Girlie Show Sara Cox in the 1990sTherapy didn’t concentrate on our physical relationship, but was great at explaining our different love languages. Andy’s love language is time spent together. Mine is acts of service. Learning about this hasn’t fixed everything, but it has helped us understand each other better.Andy feels loved just by us spending time together so sometimes the kindest thing I can do is leave the washing for another half hour and sit beside him instead, whereas I feel loved when he helps lighten the mental load or does thoughtful things, which is why that candle-lit bedroom and Classic FM meant so much to me.I couldn’t imagine life without Andy and I’d be so upset if he strayed because of the lack of sex at home, but he’s assured me that this will never happen.I know that he misses intimacy, but he also understands that this slump is all part of life and marriage – for better, for worse. In the meantime I’m continuing to look for solutions.I use vaginal oestrogen pellets, which deliver oestrogen locally to the surrounding tissue and don’t go into the bloodstream, and I was told were safe for me to use after my breast cancer. They’ve helped a little with the dryness, but not the vaginismus.Vaginal dilators can also help stretch the pelvic floor muscles but I don’t really have the time or the privacy right now to be messing around with that.I’ve said to the kids, ‘If our bedroom door is closed and you walk in, I’m not paying for the therapy,’ but they forget. I’m already feeling tense enough before worrying that a 14-year-old is about to interrupt.Like lots of women, a glass of wine always helped me get in the mood for sex but that’s not an option for me any more. Alcohol is a carcinogen and since my diagnosis I’ve drastically cut back.The recommended amount for breast cancer survivors is no more than four units a week and I drink far less than that – usually an occasional gin and tonic on special occasions. The days of sipping a glass of wine while I prepare dinner are over. While I’m 99 per cent sober, there’s been a price to pay for that too.When I gave up alcohol in January, I decided that I could eat whatever sweets, cakes and biscuits I wanted instead, so I’ve gone up a dress size, from an eight to a ten.That might not seem a big deal, but when you’re only 5ft 1in it definitely shows, so I’m trying to shift that with exercise and healthier eating.This weight gain has definitely had an impact on me. Even though I don’t want sex, I miss feeling sexy. I can be wearing the most beautiful underwear set and I just feel lumpy. I still make an effort with my appearance and Andy always tells me that I look fabulous, but nothing makes me feel ‘hot’ any more.I hate what I see in the mirror but I try to remember it’s a normal part of the ageing process and that ageing is a privilege that some people don’t get. I’m grateful to be here.But, as any cancer survivor knows, the ‘will it come back?’ thoughts are never far away. I practise the ‘box breathing technique’ in the car and in bed at night if I struggle to sleep.I take four breaths in and four out and it helps to regulate my nervous system.There are so many women who have had breast cancer going through the same struggles and I want them to know they’re not alone. In the meantime, I’ll continue to show up for my pink sisters – as breast cancer survivors are known – on Instagram where my inbox is always open.Most importantly, I’m working hard to be as healthy and happy as I can be under the circumstances, as are the rest of my family, and you can’t ask for more than that.As for my situation with Andy and our barely-there sex life, I know that we will get through this, just like we’ve got through everything else that life has thrown our way – together.As told to GEMMA CALVERT HOW TO BOOST YOUR SEX DRIVE AFTER TREATMENT By Dr Liz O'RiordanAs a breast cancer surgeon who went through treatment myself at 40, this is one of the most common problems I hear from patients, yet one of the least talked about. Loss of libido, vaginal dryness and painful sex affect the vast majority of women on hormone therapy. Aromatase inhibitors work by blocking the enzyme that makes oestrogen in your body fat. Oestrogen keeps the walls of your vagina thick, stretchy and lubricated, so removing it almost overnight causes the tissue to become thin, dry and fragile, known as vaginal atrophy. This can make sex painful and it drastically lowers your libido. Studies suggest up to eight in ten women treated for breast cancer notice some form of sexual dysfunction, but there's a lot of options out there that can help (stock image)Studies suggest up to eight in ten women treated for breast cancer notice some form of sexual dysfunction. It’s often worse than a natural menopause because it happens in a couple of weeks rather than gradually over several years. There is a lot that can help. Vaginal moisturisers and water-based lubricants make a real difference. Vaginal dilators, used gradually, help stretch and desensitise tissue that has tightened up. If that isn’t enough, low-dose vaginal oestrogen, as a tablet, pessary or ring, can be an option, but speak to your doctor about it first. A pelvic health physiotherapist who specialises in this area can also make a huge difference. Communication is also key. Tell your partner that it’s the treatment that’s making you feel and act this way, not them. Explore other ways to feel intimate and connected instead of relying on physical foreplay. Psycho sexual counsellors can also help. My key message is this: you are not alone, and you don’t have to put up with it in silence. So many women feel too embarrassed to mention this to their GP, breast care nurse or oncologist, or assume that it’s just the price of staying alive. It shouldn’t be a price you pay quietly.