I Built an App to Save My Marriage. Now, Couples Everywhere Are Using It.

I didn't set out to become an entrepreneur in the intimacy space. I'm 47 years old with three young kids and a perfectly good career. The last thing I needed was to start a company, let alone one focused on something as personal and potentially controversial as couples' sexuality.

But my wife Brittney and I were heading towards what many would call "roommate mode"—managing logistics brilliantly but no longer lovers. We were heading toward becoming another statistic: the couples who love each other but whose intimacy has quietly died under the weight of parenting, careers, and endless responsibilities.

I didn't want that future. So when I discovered something that transformed our relationship, I couldn't keep it to myself. I built Coelle, a guided intimacy app for couples. And what started as a solution to save my marriage has become something couples everywhere are using to reconnect.

This is the story of how desperation, discovery, and a stubborn refusal to accept "this is just how it is" led me to build something I never imagined creating.

The Crisis Point

Year seven of our marriage was when I first noticed the shift. Looking back now, it had been happening gradually for a while, but year seven was when I couldn't ignore it anymore.

Brittney and I weren't fighting. We weren't considering divorce. From the outside, we probably looked like a successful couple: three healthy kids, stable careers, a nice home. We were an excellent team when it came to managing our household. We divided tasks efficiently. We communicated well about logistics. We supported each other's professional ambitions.

But we'd stopped being intimate in any meaningful way.

We still had sex. Regularly, even. Every week or two, we'd find a window when the kids were asleep and we weren't completely exhausted, and we'd go through the motions. The same sequence. The same positions. The same unspoken choreography we'd developed over years together.

It was efficient. Reliable. Completely devoid of genuine desire.

I'd find myself thinking about work during sex. Brittney would be physically present but mentally reviewing her to-do list. We were checking a box—"maintain intimacy in marriage"—but we weren't actually connecting. We were maintaining our relationship rather than nourishing it.

The worst part was the silence around it. We didn't talk about the fact that sex had become obligatory. We didn't acknowledge that we'd essentially become roommates who occasionally had maintenance sex to keep the relationship running. We just accepted it as what happens in long-term relationships when you add children, careers, and the mental load of managing a household.

I have spontaneous desire—I feel turned on seemingly out of nowhere and want to initiate sex. Brittney has responsive desire—her arousal emerges after physical intimacy begins, not before. I didn't understand this dynamic, so I interpreted her lack of spontaneous enthusiasm as lack of interest in me. She felt pressure from my constant initiation. We were both doing our best, but we were stuck in a cycle that made sex feel obligatory for both of us.

I started wondering if this was just how it was going to be. If maintaining desire in a long-term relationship with children was simply impossible. If we should just accept that the passionate connection we'd had in our early years was gone forever, replaced by efficient co-parenting and occasional maintenance sex.

But I didn't want to accept that. I didn't want to become one of those couples who quietly resign themselves to a sexless or perfunctory sex life, who stay together for the kids but lose the romantic and intimate connection that made them partners in the first place.

The Discovery

About a year ago, I was researching solutions. Not for some grand entrepreneurial purpose—just desperately looking for anything that might help Brittney and me reconnect.

I'd read countless articles about keeping the spark alive. Try new positions! Schedule date nights! Communicate about your desires! We'd tried all of it. Date nights became dinner conversations about kid logistics. New positions didn't address the fact that our brains were running through tomorrow's schedule instead of being present. Communication about sex felt like another task to manage.

The advice wasn't wrong, exactly. It just wasn't addressing the actual problem: we couldn't get out of our heads and into our bodies. We couldn't quiet the constant mental chatter—the planning, analyzing, orchestrating—that makes intimacy feel like work rather than pleasure.

Then I stumbled across the concept of guided audio intimacy. The idea of following external verbal guidance during intimate experiences with your partner.

My first reaction was skepticism bordering on dismissal. Having someone else's voice in the bedroom during sex? That sounded bizarre at best, intrusive at worst. Wouldn't it kill spontaneity? Wouldn't it feel clinical or awkward? Wouldn't it be like having someone watch you during your most vulnerable moments?

But I was desperate enough to try. One Tuesday night, after the kids were finally asleep, I suggested it to Brittney. I braced myself for rejection or mockery. Instead, she was immediately curious. Maybe because she could sense how much I wanted things to change. Maybe because she was as tired as I was of our routine. Maybe because trying something genuinely new felt better than continuing to go through the motions.

We dimmed the lights, pressed play on a guided audio session I'd found, and committed to following it through.

What happened over the next twenty minutes was the most present, connected, and genuinely intimate experience we'd had in years.

The guidance directed our attention. It introduced breathwork that helped us sync together. It suggested types of touch we'd never considered. It built arousal slowly and intentionally. It created moments of eye contact and pause that we'd lost in our efficient routine.

For the first time in months—maybe years—we were both completely there. Not thinking about tomorrow. Not orchestrating the next move. Not wondering if the other person was actually enjoying this. Just following. Experiencing. Connecting.

When the session ended, we looked at each other with genuine surprise. Not just "that was nice" surprise, but "this might change everything" surprise.

The Decision to Build

Over the next few weeks, we explored different guided experiences. Each one taught us something new about how to be present with each other. We were rediscovering intimacy—not just sex, but actual emotional and physical connection.

The skills we learned started transferring to our unguided intimacy too. We breathed together. We made eye contact. We communicated during sex. We built arousal intentionally rather than rushing toward orgasm. We were learning how to be lovers again, not just co-parents who occasionally had sex.

And I couldn't stop thinking: how many other couples are stuck where we were? How many are resigning themselves to maintenance mode because they don't know there's a tool that could help them reconnect?

I started talking to friends about our experience. Cautiously at first—this isn't exactly typical dinner conversation. But the responses were remarkable. Nearly every long-term couple I talked to was experiencing some version of what we'd been going through. Loving each other but losing desire. Having regular sex but feeling disconnected during it. Wanting to reconnect but not knowing how.

When I mentioned guided intimacy, the initial reactions were always skeptical. But couples who actually tried it came back with the same surprise Brittney and I had experienced. It worked. Not in a gimmicky, temporary way, but in a fundamental "this addresses the actual problem" way.

I realized there was a massive gap in the market. There were plenty of apps focused on individual sexual content—audio erotica for solo use, visual content for personal arousal. But there was virtually nothing designed specifically for couples trying to maintain or rebuild connection in long-term relationships.

The decision to build Coelle wasn't rational from a business perspective. I had no background in app development. I had no experience in the intimacy or wellness space. I had a stable career and three young children who already demanded most of my time and energy.

But I couldn't let it go. I'd found something that transformed my marriage, and I knew it could help couples everywhere. The idea of keeping it to myself felt selfish.

So I started building.

The Challenges Nobody Warns You About

If you'd told me a year ago that I'd be running a company focused on guided intimacy, I would have laughed. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

The technical challenges were manageable. I could learn app development, hire designers, figure out audio production. Those were solvable problems.

The cultural challenges were much harder.

Intimacy tech exists in this strange gray zone. We've normalized meditation apps, sleep apps, fitness apps—all forms of guided wellness experiences. But intimacy? That's still deeply personal, potentially controversial, and carries stigma that other wellness categories don't face.

I had to figure out how to talk about what Coelle does without being crude or clinical. How to market an intimacy app without falling into the tropes of sex industry marketing. How to explain that this isn't about "spicing things up" or fixing broken relationships—it's about providing tools that address genuine neurological and psychological barriers to presence and connection.

I had to navigate content moderation policies on app stores and advertising platforms. Platforms that allow meditation and sleep guidance have different standards for intimate content, even when it's educational and couples-focused. I spent months learning the nuances of what's acceptable and how to position Coelle within those constraints.

I had to build trust with potential users who are rightfully cautious about bringing technology into their intimate lives. Couples need to know their data is private, that the content is respectful and research-backed, that this isn't exploitative or gimmicky. Building that trust requires transparency and consistency.

Perhaps the hardest challenge was explaining to friends, family, and professional contacts what I was doing. "I built an intimacy app" generates reactions ranging from confusion to judgment to awkward jokes. I had to develop thick skin and confidence in the value of what I was creating.

What I've Learned About Relationships

Building Coelle has taught me as much about relationships as it has about entrepreneurship.

I've learned that the problems couples face with intimacy are remarkably consistent. It's not that some couples have it figured out and others don't. Nearly everyone in a long-term relationship struggles with maintaining desire and presence. The difference is whether they have tools that address the actual barriers they're facing.

I've learned that couples are desperate for evidence-based solutions. They're tired of vague advice about keeping the spark alive. They want to understand why their intimacy has become challenging and what actually works to address those specific challenges. When you explain the neuroscience of decision fatigue and the psychology of responsive versus spontaneous desire, people feel validated rather than blamed.

I've learned that shame is the biggest barrier to seeking help with intimacy. Couples assume that needing guidance means something is wrong with them or their relationship. They compare their private struggles to other couples' public presentations and conclude they're uniquely broken. Breaking down that shame—normalizing that long-term intimacy is genuinely difficult and that tools can help—is crucial.

I've learned that small shifts in how couples approach intimacy can have cascading effects. Learning to breathe together doesn't just make that one session better—it becomes a skill you use in all intimate moments. Learning to make eye contact during sex changes how connected you feel throughout your relationship. Guided experiences teach skills that transfer beyond the audio.

I've learned that talking openly about sex and intimacy is still incredibly difficult for most people. Even couples who communicate well about other aspects of their relationship struggle to articulate what they want or need sexually. Guidance provides a framework and vocabulary that makes those conversations easier.

What I've Learned About Entrepreneurship

I've also learned that building a company around something as personal as intimacy is completely different from building other types of businesses.

You can't do traditional marketing. You can't rely on viral growth tactics. You can't use the playbook that works for other apps. Everything has to be built on trust, authenticity, and genuine value.

Word of mouth is everything. Couples who have transformative experiences tell their friends. Those friends try it and share their own stories. The growth is organic and slow—but sustainable because it's based on real results rather than hype.

Content is crucial. Couples want to understand why guided intimacy works before they try it. They want research backing, not just anecdotal testimonials. Creating educational content that explains the neuroscience, psychology, and research behind guided experiences has been essential for building credibility.

The business model matters deeply. I've seen other intimacy apps that feel exploitative—designed to maximize revenue rather than genuinely help people. I've been adamant that Coelle's model aligns with users' interests. We want couples to have transformative experiences, learn skills, and maintain healthy intimacy. We don't want to create dependency or use manipulative tactics.

Privacy is non-negotiable. Couples need to trust that their intimate data is protected. We've built Coelle with privacy as a foundation, not an afterthought. That's meant making technical decisions that are more expensive and complicated but necessary for maintaining trust.

Where This Is Heading

My first year into building Coelle, I'm more convinced than ever that guided intimacy is the future of how couples maintain connection in long-term relationships.

We're seeing the cultural stigma break down as more couples openly share that guidance helped them. Just as therapy became destigmatized when people started talking about its benefits, guided intimacy is becoming normalized as couples validate each other's experiences.

We're seeing the research community take notice. Sexologists, relationship therapists, and neuroscientists are studying why guided experiences work and how they can be optimized for different types of couples and challenges.

We're seeing technology improve in ways that make guided intimacy more accessible and personalized. Better audio production, smarter recommendation systems, more diverse content that addresses different desires and comfort levels.

I think we're at the beginning of a broader shift toward evidence-based approaches to relationships. Couples are getting tired of generic advice that doesn't address their specific challenges. They want tools backed by research on how arousal, desire, presence, and connection actually work.

Guided intimacy is one tool in what should be a full toolkit for maintaining long-term relationships. It's not the only solution, but it addresses specific, well-documented barriers that millions of couples face. And it works in ways that conventional advice simply doesn't.

What I'd Tell My Year-Seven Self

If I could go back to that point in my marriage when I first noticed we'd become roommates rather than lovers, here's what I'd say:

The problem isn't you or Brittney or your relationship. It's that you're trying to maintain intimacy under challenging circumstances without adequate tools. Decision fatigue is real. Responsive versus spontaneous desire is a genuine dynamic that creates tension. Inability to quiet your analytical mind during sex is affecting millions of couples, not just you.

Trying harder won't fix it. More date nights won't fix it. Generic communication advice won't fix it. You need tools that address the actual neurological and psychological barriers you're facing.

You're going to discover guided intimacy. It's going to feel weird at first. Do it anyway. It's going to transform your relationship in ways you can't imagine. And eventually, you're going to build something that helps couples everywhere reconnect.

Starting a company wasn't part of your plan. But neither was resigning yourself to maintenance mode in your marriage. Sometimes the solution to your personal crisis becomes the solution you can offer others.

Trust the process. Trust that what worked for you will work for other couples. Trust that normalizing guidance for intimacy is important work, even when it's difficult and uncomfortable.

And most importantly: that Tuesday night when you press play for the first time, pay attention. Because you're not just discovering a tool to save your marriage. You're discovering what will become your mission.

The Tuesday Night That Changed Everything

Since that first Tuesday night when Brittney and I tried guided intimacy. Since then, I've built Coelle, heard from couples everywhere, learned more about intimacy and relationships than I ever expected, and become an unlikely entrepreneur in a space I never imagined entering.

Our relationship is completely different now. Not because we're having more sex—we're still busy parents with demanding lives. But because sex is no longer obligatory maintenance. It's something we genuinely look forward to, something that creates connection rather than just maintaining it.

The skills we've learned have transformed how we relate to each other in and out of the bedroom. We're more present. We communicate better. We've remembered how to be lovers, not just co-parents.

And now, through Coelle, we're helping other couples find what we found. Couples who love each other but have lost desire. Couples stuck in routines their brains no longer find engaging. Couples who've tried everything conventional advice suggests but still feel disconnected during intimacy.

If you're in that place right now—loving your partner but feeling like you're just going through the motions, wanting to reconnect but not knowing how—I want you to know that you're not broken and your relationship isn't failing. You're just trying to maintain presence and novelty without adequate tools.

Guided intimacy might be the tool you've been missing. Not because there's anything wrong with you, but because sometimes the solution isn't trying harder. It's letting someone else guide you back to what you've been missing.

That realization saved my marriage. And now it's helping couples everywhere rediscover connection.

Sometimes what starts as desperation becomes a mission. Sometimes what saves your relationship becomes what you build your life's work around. Sometimes a Tuesday night changes everything—not just for you, but for everyone you can reach with what you've learned.

Ready to Explore with Guidance?

Download the Coelle App to access guided experiences that introduce new positions naturally, with proper pacing and instruction that helps you learn what works for your bodies together.

Read "Guided: Why We All Need a Guide in the Bedroom" to understand why novelty matters for long-term intimacy and how guided experiences help couples maintain curiosity and presence throughout their relationship.