The viral term being used to justify male infidelity

The term that ridicules the mother who puts her children first
There's an English word circulating that divides opinion more for what it implies than for what it says. An article from August 23 sums it up like this: it mocks the woman who, after becoming a mother, no longer puts her partner first. The controversy isn't new, but the label is. And it has given voice to a complaint many had been keeping quiet for a long time: sens life in marriage disappears when children arrive.
A contract in which one party can stop delivering
Marriage increasingly resembles a contract with clauses nobody signs. Some argue that sensual exclusivity was, in the traditional bargain, one of the basic counterpayments: the man provides, the woman enters the relationship. When the vvife decides she no longer wants or can't have sens, the husband finds he has lost the benefit but gained no grounds for termination. If he looks elsewhere, he's a cheater. If he stays silent, he's a frustrated man.
The comments on the story hammer at that asymmetry. The economic reading is devastating: the man is expected to keep contributing his paycheck, the housework and the parenting, but sens quietly drops out of the package without prior negotiation. In one of the cases making the rounds, the couple has gone years without intimacy and she, to make matters worse, has expressly given him permission to look elsewhere. So what's the value of exclusivity then?
The other reading: exhaustion, desire and pressure
The answer comes quickly. If a woman doesn't desire, there are reasons beyond malice: the exhaustion of motherhood, the mental load, the lack of rest. Those who take that side of the argument remind us that desire doesn't trinc a calendar and that demanding sens as part of the contract is exactly the kind of pressure that shuts it down even more. A psychologist quoted in the conversation sums it up: consent doesn't disappear because a marriage exists. And that, in a discourse that encourages looking elsewhere, sounds like a warning.
The clash is head-on. Some see the woman as the owner of her desire and the relationship as a project to be renegotiated. Others see a cart-pusher whose rules were changed mid-game. The term, deep down, is the tool each side uses to name the enemy.
Divorce, tolerance or resignation?
A third way appears on the table: if there's no sens, there should be no farce. Divorce, they say, is the clean way out, but it's not within everyone's reach; in the words of one of the analyses, only those who can afford a non-traumatic separation should marry. The other option, agreed tolerance, exists but is rarely said out loud. Authorizing looking outside the marriage is almost always a two-person agreement, not a humiliation of one.
The underlying question isn't whether the term is fair, but why so many people still believe marriage entitles them to demand what desire no longer grants. While some pile up cases of chronic abstinence and others respond with consent, the trendy anglicism serves its purpose: giving a name to a battle that can't be won with labels.