Over and over, women are told their libido takes a nosedive when they hit the menopause. It’s inevitable, a fact of biology, say doctors, who dish out hormone replacement therapy (HRT) or even testosterone to combat our waning desire.

But I have another, better solution – one that makes me wonder whether menopause is really to blame. For at the age of 54, I’ve discovered my own means of sexual rejuvenation: Sleeping with younger men.

Does that sound wrong? In some ways yes. After all, we shake our heads at playboy men in their 50s who hang out with gorgeous young women in their 20s.

And yet, I’ve found plenty of younger men who not only want to have sex with me, but want to have sex solely with women my age.

When my partner of 12 years told me he was leaving me three years ago, I was secretly relieved. We’d stopped being lovers and become merely friends, our lives – and especially his – consumed by careers we’d spent 30 years building.

The split was easy: I have one daughter from a previous relationship who’s now 26 – not much younger than some of the men I’ve been seeing – but no other kids.

In bed, I’d been bored for a long time, and so had my ex.

Dipping into the dating apps after he moved out, I was amazed to be contacted by men in their 20s and 30s – and even more astonished at how comfortable I felt with them.

My mindset began to change and my libido to revive. Did I even want another long-term relationship? I didn’t know, but I did want to keep feeling the extraordinary new sense of desire I felt when I was with a younger lover.

Younger men tend to be more open-minded about sex, having learnt about it from pornography.

I know. This is not necessarily a positive. But in my experience they are also endlessly willing to learn.

I once had to tell a man in his late 20s that ‘breath play’, involving the continual clamping of his mouth on to mine, was not sexy and felt horrid. I went further, telling him most women wouldn’t like it, and he looked quite crestfallen. But he was also keen to find out what we do like.

Perhaps young women find it harder to stand up for themselves, but I’m now at the stage of life where I don’t want to engage in anything that isn’t fun for me. I’ve had enough of mediocre sex.

After six months on the apps, I realised something profound: I was happier than I’d ever been. I reset my age criterion from 25 to 50, but rarely bothered with the older men.

There are pros and cons to this sexual adventure. Logistics can be a problem. I refuse to go back after a date to a shared house – that would make me feel very old – and I don’t like to bring them home because it feels too personal. So I mainly have sex in hotel rooms, which brings with it issues around money.

I’d feel uncomfortable with the dynamic of paying for it all myself, although my job as a lawyer means I could afford to. So we split the bill, as I do at restaurants and bars too. London life is expensive and most of them earn less than me, but generally they seem happy to go 50/50. There is, of course, no reason at all that they should ever pay for me.

I’m always open about the fact that I’m not looking for anything serious, but I also have a rule that I only date one man at a time or it gets confusing.

I think young men like the fact I’m so straightforward and uncomplicated. They know I’m not seeing them as a future husband or the father to my kids so the pressure’s off.

These are not one-night stands, by the way, or not all of them.

I dated one man for months – a lovely chap in his early 30s who was very sweet and giving in bed. It felt liberating being with him; to finally be able to focus on myself and not have to go through the motions with someone who’s not bothered whether you’re enjoying it or not. Frankly it’s shone a light on to all the bad sex I’ve had in the past.

Some dates are harder work than others and many don’t get my cultural references. Why should they? I mentioned to one guy that I loved Blur but he hadn’t heard of Damon Albarn. He kept saying things like: ‘Oh, my mum loves that’, which was incredibly off-putting. That didn’t go anywhere – I have to have some sort of mental connection, too.

Physically, on the other hand, there’s rarely a problem, though I don’t always feel great about my body.

Personally, I think women’s falling libido in midlife is really the result of a lack of body confidence combined with a lack of novelty. I’ve certainly got the latter sorted, but know I need to work on the former. Flattering underwear helps, as do the men themselves, who never seem to mind a bit of tummy or the odd wobble.

It’s not a complete panacea for low midlife self-confidence, however. I’m paranoid – rightly, I think – that some of them don’t want to be seen in public with me. A couple of dates have chosen a table hidden in a corner of the restaurant. Or we’ll be having a drink in east London when they live in south London because, I suspect, they don’t want to bump into anyone they know.

I understand: The age gap might work for us, but it’s still unusual this way round.

We might have a lot in common in terms of what we’re looking for – a new experience, fun and zero commitment (with a person in their 50s anyway) – but we’re obviously mismatched in terms of life stages. They’re climbing the career ladder, whereas I’m looking forward to cutting back my hours and moving out of London. And though I take a professional interest in social media, outside of work I have zero interest in it. Often they’ll chat about a YouTuber they like or a new online trend and I’ll be completely lost.

The other weird thing is that 1990s fashion is back in and often my date will be wearing a bomber jacket very like the kind of thing I wore 30 years ago!

Will I ever settle down with a younger man? I admire artist and director Sam Taylor-Johnson, whose relationship with actor husband Aaron, 23 years her junior, seems so happy and successful. But I don’t know any marriages with that gap personally.

I’m guessing most men want children, and that’s not happening with me clearly. Besides, it’s fine when the men are in their 20s and I’m in my 50s, but do they really want a partner who’s 70 when they’re 40? I doubt it.

My daughter doesn’t know about my young lover thing. We’d both be embarrassed, which I realise says something about the social acceptability of what I’m up to.

The important thing to remember is that I’m not a cougar; I’m not ‘on the prowl’. That’s a sexist term, but I also reject it personally because the younger men I date have all contacted me via the apps. They’ve chosen me, and I’m very happy to be chosen.

A few friends know, but I haven’t shared it with all my girlfriends because some of those I thought were open-minded have been judgmental. To be honest, I think it’s sour grapes – most of them are unhappy in their marriages and are jealous of the great sex I’m having.

Perhaps, too, they’re not brave enough to acknowledge the secret I’ve discovered. I don’t need HRT or saffron or red ginseng or any of the other aphrodisiacs usually suggested to midlife women with a flagging libido. I just need a fun companion.

• Sasha Fieldstone is a pseudonym. All names and identifying details have been changed.

• As told to ANNIKI SOMMERVILLE