Once upon a time, I thought I was going to be a successful sex blogger. Little did I know it was going to take a whole lot more than one man and five dollars a month to rock your world.
First, my apologies to all you hot-as-hell sex bloggers out there for rocking my world. I’m working my way through every single one of your articles, word-by-luscious-word. Between you, me, and the headboard, I wish I could be just like you. But I’ve only had sex with one person.
Anyway, keep on rocking in the free world. Maybe I’ll catch up with you someday (and we can exchange stories over the internet and a hot cup of coffee.)
I thought (often) about deleting the handful of measly sex stories I wrote during my married life. They are laughable now in retrospect, but the kickoff to my life lessons none-the-less.
Instead of focusing on the fact that I haven’t had sex since March, I decided to make a list that allows me to dive deeper into what I’ve learned from the last overly celibate six months.
I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and believe you me, the phrase bone-dry has a whole new meaning.
1. You must foster a healthy relationship with yourself first before expecting to have one with someone else.
I knew how to put everyone else’s needs first like you wouldn’t believe. I wore that people-pleasing patch proudly until I figured out that also meant I wasn’t the greatest at taking care of myself. The lack of self-care seeped through every bone in my body until one day, I collapsed.
Over the last six months, I learned the invaluable lesson of putting my oxygen mask on first. You can’t help anyone else breathe if you’re suffocating. And you can’t give to anyone else if you’re in a deficit.
Math was never my favorite subject, but that’s one equation I can wrap my head around.
2. You can’t be anyone except yourself.
I may be writing under a pen name and protecting my family’s identity, but all my stories are real and emerge straight from my gut-to-screen.
I’ve only had sex with one person (i.e., that one penis I referring to earlier.) I can’t fake that. That person was my husband for fourteen years and nine months, and before that, he was my boyfriend for four years.
That was me back then. This is me now. And I am finally ready to love them both.
“How do you find self-love? You dig. You isolate, and you ache from being lonely. You heal. You accept, you look in the mirror and see good.” — Anonymous
3. Taking a break from connecting with others helps you reconnect with yourself.
Going through a divorce muffles the noise in your life, whether you like it or not. My family being ripped apart at its seams forced me to sit in that pain and watch in excruciating silence.
It also provided an opportunity to chose what my next move was going to be.
I’m back to doing the things that make my soul soar sky-high like working out, going back to school, playing my guitar, writing, helping people, and belly-laughing with my kids again.
I decided to reevaluate, reconnect, and then rise.
4. There is freedom in The Surrender.
Letting go is self-loving. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. If you want to heal, you have to surrender to the pain first.
There is a release from suffering if you stop resisting. I learned that the hard way.
“Sometimes we have to let go of what’s killing us, even if it’s killing us to let go.” — Somewhere on Instagram
5. When you relinquish control, sexual liberation is sure to follow.
I am sure of two things in life: I like sex (a lot), and I’ve only had sex with one person in thirty-eight years.
At the risk of sounding overzealous, let’s just say I am ready to spread my wings. I went straight from my parent’s house at eighteen into the arms of my ex-husband for the last twenty years.
I am grateful for the good times and the life lessons. And I have never felt so free to be me.
I am grateful for the last sexless six months. I learned to appreciate myself. I have more love, confidence, and respect for myself than I’ve had in a really long time. (It also taught me how to practice healthy boundaries before another dick comes anywhere near me!)
I’m excited to explore my sexuality in due time (understatement of the year). What I’ve gained in the meantime is unparalleled and better than any future orgasm coming my way.
6. Real growth should be uncomfortable.
The physiology of building muscle is nothing short of amazing. First, you work your body to the point of fatigue. After damaging your muscle fibers, they begin repairing themselves on your rest days, increasing your overall muscle mass. The same theory applies to when you learn to embrace the discomfort (i.e., standing up for yourself). Your breakdown leads to breakthroughs, and you come back stronger.
You are not weak. You are the most courageous person I know for standing up for what you believe in and walking away.
To recap, I haven’t had sex in six months, guys. But the life lessons I’ve learned while practicing quiet celibacy are invaluable.
I can’t promise you guys I will divulge in my upcoming sexual escapades. However, I can guarantee you the following three things: 1.) I’m thirty-eight years old, and so far, I’ve only slept with one man. 2.) I may be divorced, but I still have a lot of love to give. 3.) If I do kiss and tell, you (and my future partners) are in for a fucking treat!
—
Previously Published on medium
—