What Dawn Moore Wants Mothers (and Sexual Health Professionals) to Understand About Help, Pleasure, and Not Settling
Many mothers don’t lose desire because they “stopped caring about sex.” They lose desire because they’re drowning—under labor, under pressure, under guilt, and under a cultural story that says good mothers should do it all alone.
In this interview, Dawn Moore—SHA Sex Coach Certification Student and founder of Mama Comes First—names a belief that quietly shapes countless households: the good mother does everything on her own. She explains how this expectation doesn’t just make motherhood harder. It can erode mental health, strain intimacy, and teach women to ignore their own needs for years.
Dawn’s work sits at the intersection of maternal wellness and sexual health. As a triple board certified Advanced Nurse Practitioner specializing in mental health and women’s health, a sex educator, a midwife, and a mom of four, she speaks from lived experience and clinical insight. Her message is direct: asking for help is not weakness—it’s the unlock. And sexual health must be treated as real health, especially after motherhood.
Here you can read more about Dawn’s key insights on maternal guilt, the impact of unsupported parenting on sex and intimacy, and what the next generation deserves to learn about pleasure and standards.
The “Good Mother” Myth: A Quiet Rule That Hurts Everyone
Dawn describes a cultural script many mothers internalize early—sometimes before they even have children:
The good mother does everything herself.
She doesn’t need help.
She figures it out.
She meets unrealistic expectations.
She smiles through it.
This is the myth of maternal self-sufficiency. It’s often praised as strength, but in practice it can function like a trap. Mothers learn that needing support means they’re not good enough. And once that belief takes root, it shapes how they parent, how they relate, and how they treat their own bodies.
Dawn shares what this looked like in her own early motherhood. She remembers feeling guilty any time she asked someone to watch the baby or help with toddlers—so guilty that she often didn’t ask at all. That “I should be able to do this alone” mindset took a major toll on her:
mental health
sex life
intimacy
overall well-being
This is an important reframe for sexual health professionals: sexual desire doesn’t disappear in a vacuum. For mothers, it’s impacted by stress, exhaustion, resentment, role overload, and a lack of autonomy—especially when caregiving becomes all-consuming.
Why Asking for Help Is a Sexual Health Intervention
Dawn makes a powerful claim: if you can help a mother truly accept that it’s okay to ask for help, you’ve unlocked something foundational—not just for parenting, but for intimacy.
She explains it plainly: asking for help reduces pressure, increases personal time, and supports mental health. That matters because mental health and sexual health are not separate systems. When someone is overwhelmed and unsupported, the body often shifts into survival mode. Desire becomes harder to access. Pleasure can feel irrelevant. Intimacy becomes another task.
Dawn goes even further: asking for help isn’t only acceptable—it can make someone a better mother.
That’s a direct challenge to the cultural ideal of maternal martyrdom. It suggests a different model of good parenting—one that includes capacity, support, and selfhood.
For professionals working with mothers, Dawn offers an actionable takeaway:
If your client believes needing help is failure, start there.
If she believes she must do everything alone, challenge that gently and consistently.
If she can’t imagine claiming time for herself, help her build permission first.
This is not a small mindset shift. It’s often the first step in rebuilding intimacy.
The Hidden Cost of “Doing It All Alone”
When mothers don’t ask for help, the cost is rarely confined to logistics. Dawn highlights how it touches everything:
emotional exhaustion
identity loss
relationship disconnection
decreased libido
reduced patience
increased guilt
reduced capacity for pleasure
Many mothers describe feeling like they are “on” all the time. Their nervous system rarely gets a break. In that state, it makes sense that sex can feel difficult, distant, or emotionally loaded.
Dawn’s framing matters because it reduces shame. Instead of treating low desire as a defect, she implicitly names it as a signal: something in the system needs support.
A Message to the Next Generation: Know What You Like Before Partners Enter the Picture
When asked what message she would leave for Gen Z and Gen Alpha about sexual health, Dawn offers advice that is both protective and empowering:
Figure out what you like before you try to figure out what you like with partners.
She emphasizes that knowing your preferences—what feels good, what doesn’t, what you enjoy, what you dislike—can keep you from “terrible sex” and from settling for experiences that don’t meet your needs.
This is not only a pleasure-based message. It’s also a consent and boundaries message. Self-knowledge helps people communicate. It helps them advocate for themselves. It helps them avoid relationships where their desires are ignored or dismissed.
Dawn also stresses a standard many people never receive permission to hold:
There is no reason to settle for sex that leaves you feeling unsatisfied, unseen, or disconnected. Partners exist who will care about what you like—not only what they like.
For educators, this is a crucial shift: teaching young people about sexual health is not only about anatomy and safety. It’s also about teaching them they are allowed to want pleasure, and they are allowed to expect mutuality.
“You’re Not Broken After You Have a Baby”: Reclaiming Sexual Identity Postpartum
Dawn speaks directly to younger mothers with a message many need to hear early:
Please take your health seriously.
Please know you are not broken after you have a baby.
Please know that zero desire does not mean you are defective.
She shares her own experience of becoming a mom at a young age and absorbing a belief that motherhood erased her right to be a sexual being. Even though she had been sexual before becoming a mother, she felt that after giving birth she was no longer “allowed” to want pleasure or desire. She believed her job was only caregiving—that what she wanted didn’t matter.
Importantly, Dawn notes that her partner was supportive and never made her feel that way. That highlights how deep cultural messaging can run: even in healthy relationships, people can carry internalized stories that shut down desire.
She also acknowledges a reality many professionals see: not everyone has a supportive partner. Some mothers are with partners who reinforce the belief that sex is owed, or who interpret postpartum changes as rejection. That context makes Dawn’s message even more urgent.
Her bottom line is clear:
Sexual health is part of overall health.
It should be prioritized alongside physical and mental health—especially after childbirth.
This is one of the most clinically useful reframes in the entire conversation. It positions sexual health as legitimate, not optional.
What Sexual Health Professionals Should Take From Dawn’s Perspective
Dawn’s insights translate into practical guidance for those working with mothers:
Start With the Myth, Not the Symptom
When a mom presents with low desire, pain, avoidance, or disconnection, the impulse is often to jump to interventions. Dawn suggests starting with the underlying belief system.
Does she believe asking for help makes her a bad mother?
Does she believe her needs don’t matter anymore?
Does she believe pleasure is selfish?
Changing these beliefs often changes the body’s relationship to intimacy.
Normalize Support-Seeking as Strength
Help your clients reframe:
support as healthy
rest as necessary
boundaries as protective
autonomy as relationally beneficial
Teach Sexual Self-Knowledge as Prevention
Encouraging self-awareness before and during partnerships helps people avoid settling, improves communication, and supports safer, more satisfying intimacy over time.
Mothers, Sexual Health, and the Cost of Doing It Alone
Dawn Moore, founder of Mama Comes First and an SHA student, explains how the “good mother” myth pressures moms to do everything alone, creating guilt around asking for help. This belief can negatively impact maternal mental health, intimacy, and sexual desire. She emphasizes that asking for help is essential and can make someone a better parent by reducing pressure and increasing time for self-care. Dawn also encourages younger generations to learn what they enjoy sexually before partnering, to avoid settling for unsatisfying sex. For postpartum mothers, she stresses that low desire does not mean they are broken and that sexual health should be prioritized as part of overall health.
Final Takeaway
Dawn Moore’s message is both compassionate and practical: motherhood should not require self-erasure. When mothers are supported, they do not just survive—they reconnect with themselves. And that reconnection is often the foundation for intimacy returning in a way that feels safe, mutual, and meaningful.
If we want healthier relationships, healthier families, and healthier sexual wellness across the lifespan, we have to stop treating maternal overwhelm as normal and maternal needs as optional.
Asking for help is not a failure of motherhood. It’s part of what makes motherhood sustainable.
Want to become an in-demand sexual health professional? Learn more about becoming certified with SHA!
