Feeling Too Schlubby to Have Sex? It’s Not Just You.

“I’d gotten bigger and softer,” says the 34-year-old from Petaluma, Calif. “I wasn’t feeling sexy.”

She’s not the only one.

Sexual desire, or interest in having sex, is lower than it’s been at any point during the pandemic for people who are feeling stressed, according to a new study led by researchers at Texas State University and the Kinsey Institute at Indiana University, under peer review for the journal “Archives of Sexual Behavior.” The pandemic buzzkills of fear, worry, loneliness and boredom continue to take their toll. And the more distress people report they have, the less sexual desire for their partner they say they feel.

Now, therapists and sex researchers believe there’s another pandemic problem that’s affecting couple’s sex lives.

“They’re feeling really schlubby,” says

Rhonda Balzarini,

an assistant professor of psychology at Texas State and affiliate member at the Kinsey Institute, who was the lead author of the recent study. They’re chubbier and generally unkempt. “That makes them feel less attractive and, therefore, less desirable,” she adds.

Blame it on a sense of malaise brought on by stress, Dr. Balzarini says. Yes, gyms and salons were closed for a time, and many people weren’t comfortable going when they did reopen due to safety concerns. But research shows that many people are feeling low or depressed. This sapped their energy. They didn’t work out at home. They let their grooming go. And they tried to cheer themselves up by overeating and, in some cases, overdrinking. “It’s like a stress spillover,” Dr. Balzarini says.

Research shows that when we feel bad about our bodies, we feel less sexual desire and less satisfaction. This is true for men and women. Even thinking about how someone else may negatively assess our body can decrease our own desire. And feeling bad about our body during a sexual encounter can lead to decreased satisfaction.

“Body image has a powerful impact on our sexuality,” says Robin Milhausen, professor in the department of Family Relations and Applied Nutrition at the University of Guelph, in Ontario, Canada, who studies this issue. “And we’re our own harshest critics.”

In reporting this story, I found people dodging their partner’s overtures, hiding under the covers during sex and faking headaches and backaches, all because they felt schlubby.

A business owner in Los Angeles who gained 20 pounds during the pandemic says she tries never to be naked in front of her boyfriend—going to bed before he does, showering in a different bathroom, and “praying that he’ll get out of bed first thing in the morning so I can dodge another bullet.”

A realtor in Pittsburgh suggested to his husband that they start sleeping in separate bedrooms, “just like the royals,” so he could avoid being intimate.

A mom in Philadelphia says she feels disgusted with her husband when he tries to get things going in the bedroom. “It’s like, ‘What’s wrong with him, I’m gross!’ ” she says. A writer in Southern California says that when his couples therapist gave him a worksheet on how to spice things up in the bedroom, titled “The Sensual Journey: Seven Exercises for Creative Intimacy,” a feeling of dread washed over him. “At this point in the pandemic, I’m out of breath just rolling over on the sofa watching TV,” he says.

So, how can you jump-start your libido?

The experts are clear: Start touching.

When you feel schlubby, you’re stuck in your head. “You’re distracted by this idea that you are not good enough sexually,” says

Barry McCarthy,

a retired sex therapist, co-author of “Rekindling Desire,” and professor emeritus at American University, where he taught a human sexuality course  for decades. The solution is to get out of your head and let your body take over. That’s where touch, or what psychologists call “responsive sexual desire,” comes in.

Think of touch on a scale of 1 to 10: 1 is affectionate. 2-3 is sensual, say a backrub. 4-5 is playful and flirty, such as a teasing touch. 10 gets you to sex. Too many couples have only affectionate or sexual touch, Dr. McCarthy says. Yet, it’s giving and receiving sensual and erotic touch—actively, not passively—that gives your body a chance to override your worried mind.

You should also try to change what you tell yourself about your body. Instead of focusing on how it’s changed, try this: “This body is strong. It survived a pandemic. And for that I’m grateful.”

“It is not an objective truth that how the body looks affects lovemaking. It’s how we feel in our skin that affects interest and desire,” says Alexandra Solomon, a psychologist at the Family Institute at Northwestern University. “Your partner very likely does not have the same critical narrative about your body that you do.”

When Ms. Katsulis asked her husband if he found her attractive, he confessed that he wasn’t feeling his best, either.

The couple had a talk. She told him that she’d assumed he’d stopped initiating sex because he was no longer attracted to her. He told her he thought she wasn’t interested. They reassured each other of their attraction—and then they had sex.

“I was very relieved the conversation went so well,” says Kevin Katsulis, 35, who is a chef. “I’d wanted to talk to her, but bringing the topic up unprompted was really daunting.”

A few days later, Mr. Katsulis came home with a present for his wife: comfy pajamas—blue crop top and shorts. Ms. Katsulis doesn’t think they’re that sexy, but her husband does, and she says that makes her feel good.

Now, the pajamas have become a sort of shorthand. When Ms. Katsulis wants to let her husband know she’s feeling sexy, she wears them. Sometimes, he texts her from work: “Do you feel like putting your fuzzy jammies on tonight?”

Ms. Katsulis still feels schlubby. But now she also feels desirable. “The act of having sex just in and of itself boosts my self-esteem,” she says. “Sex makes you feel sexy.”

Write to Elizabeth Bernstein at elizabeth.bernstein@wsj.com or follow her on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter at EBernsteinWSJ