The strangest thing has happened. My libido has gone into hibernation. For the last 6 days I have had absolutely no urges whatsoever. Seen a few (reasonably) attractive men whilst wandering round town, noted their aesthetic beauty, and forgotten about it. Guy at work? Meh. Yeah he had nice eyes, but I realised he was just the best of a bad lot. The more I got to know him, the more I realised he wasn't good enough for me; still stuck in te uni lifestyle when he needed to grow up a bit. And it's dawning on me that I have no desire for a relationship right now.
The biggest realisation is that for me, the only person out there is me. I've never subscribed to the idea of Mr Right, only Mr Right Now. But of course as I change and what I want changes, Mr Right Now becomes MR Wrong. As shallow as that might sound in black and white, let me add in a few shades of grey.
Firstly, I love passionately and deeply. They become 'the one' when I am with them. I do whatever is necessary to make them happy, sometimes to the detriment of my career and my friendships. I envisage a whole life with them; commitment and a family.
I am usually devastated when it ends. Granted it is usually me that ends it, but it takes a lot to make me walk away, and so the heartbreaking decision that I can't keep going usually tears me up for a while.
Secondly, people change over time. Both I and my boyfriends changed. When you consider your twenties, and how you have changed over the past 2 years, it is inevitable that you are not the same person at the end of the relationship than at the beginning.
Thirdly, your shared experiences, triumphs and mutual disappointments shape you both and leave you altered. Sometimes things happen that you just cannot move past, or you feel so let down or betrayed that there is no recovery.
Therefore to me, it seems sloppy to plan your entire existence around another person. Sure, fall in love and make plans, but always have a backup for if it ends and you find yourself alone. And for god's sake do not depend on him for money, as so many do, because if he leaves you will have nothing and be saddled with the kids.
As for me, I'm happy enjoying my freedom and the fact that my life is my own again. Not to mention being able to do what I want. I've definitely come around to the benefits of singledom, and I have to say I'm loving it. So maybe that Mr Right Now of the future will be waiting a bit longer. WHo knows, maybe he's not even out there at all, and the first thing I buy after this year is over is a Rampant Rabbit.
But having already stuck to this for the better part of 2 months, I'd say there is a high likelihood of me making it a year. The scary thing is, writing that I got a suddent twinge of panic - "Oh no, I only have ten months of freedom left!" I guess that response shows what I am doing is the right thing for me. Happy days.
Showing posts with label enlightenment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label enlightenment. Show all posts
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Introspection
So, its been a few days since I've posted, due to lack of internet access and extremely stressful weekend. I carried on writing but couldn't put it up on here. I'll post it soon.
In the spirit of honesty and disclosure which this blog is (supposed to) enable, I have a confession to make - the vegetarian ate beef. Or rather, I caved and had a play. I was going absolutely stir-crazy (as is slightly obvious re-reading my post from Sunday), and I needed the release. It served a purpose. But the saddest thing was that while I played, I found myself fantasising about my ex. And when I came, I felt empty. It's a sad day when someone as passionate, as loving, as sexual as me cannot enjoy an orgasm. Especially since it had been so bloody long since I had had one! But the truth is, I miss him. Not enough to try again, or even contact him (although thank God I had deleted his number because the mood I was in, I was sorely tempted). But how crap is it to describe a long-overdue orgasm as 'serving a purpose'?!
The thing that scares me is that I got involved with him when I was really not looking to get involved. In fact, at that time I had massive, justifiable trust issues with men. So given my utter refusal to get involved with anyone for another 50 weeks (give or take one or two), I am petrified that I am now more attractive as Sod's Law would have it. Who knows, I probably look like crap, and not having any male appreciation doesn't help with feeling like a fatty at the moment, but I digress. The point is I am not open to it, but that's when I met the last one who I absolutely fell for. We may not have been together long, but he did so much to restore my faith in humanity, as well as the intense spiritual, physical, personal and chemical connection we shared, that I do miss him on occasion. But the git invading my orgasm just showed me how necessary this sexual anorexia is.
This post wasn't supposed to be about him. I just want to forget him. Not in a nasty way, but to move on. I don't think of him anywhere near as much as I used to, but I still miss his presence. Had I not played, he wouldn't have invaded. But I guess its not his fault. And at the very least, I am starting to notice changes in my approaches to things, and I am able to step back from myself and notice patterns of behaviour, and catching myself before I mindlessly repeat these mistakes. So perhaps these 3-ish weeks have taught me something so far.
I used to pride myself on having a similar sex life to Samantha in Sex and the City. Nowhere near as many, not as casual (no one-night-stands for me), but I saw myself as liberated and getting what I wanted when I wanted it. The fuck buddies were trustworthy, and good blokes, and I always enjoyed myself with them. I don't speak to them anymore, not for any negative reason but because why would we stay in touch? That period of our time together is over, and that's fine. But I think the biggest issue is that now sex, for me, needs to be accompanied by genuine and intense emotion and connection. So when I do come out of sexual hibernation, I will probably be freaking scared of going there with a new guy and getting hurt. Standard I know, but this puts more pressure on them to be what I need. As I hate Disney's Prince Charming theory instilled in pretty much every little girl for the last 30 years, given that it pressures and burdens them, I gotta find a way round this. The purpose of this is to grow, rebuild, and become independent (but not isolate myself and push others away). So hopefully by the time this hypothetical scenario becomes a possibility, I will be in a strong place - and also not rush into a new relationship,thereby negating the trust issue. Or maybe not. Who knows, it's so flipping far away. But I do know that if I can learn so much in 3 weeks, I am likely to learn a hell of a lot more in the next 50.
But the thing bothering me as I write this is - will the sex be worth the emotional investment? The best sex I have ever had is with the someones I really felt for (3 in ten years = not so bad), but in my experience there is a window of time in which you either get it on or not - and if you don't by then, you end up as friends, albeit with unresolved sexual tension and its subsequent problems. But I'm worried that I'll meet someone, hold off having sex with them until I love them, but then the sex is crap and I'm stuck loving someone I don't want physically. That may sound okay to some, but I cannot settle for that. I get that sex in relationships peaks and troughs, but as a passionate fiery person I need to physically express my feelings for the person I love. Not to mention sex unites a couple. And also once you decide to wait it puts pressure on the first time when it does happen. It's different waiting as a teenager, there is an acceptance that you might not be ready, but as adults there seems to be a rush into the bedroom - and waiting is seen by many guys as being a prick-tease. And if it starts to get physically intense between you but you want to wait, how do you know a fully grown adult man will be able to control himself and not accidentally go too far?
In the spirit of honesty and disclosure which this blog is (supposed to) enable, I have a confession to make - the vegetarian ate beef. Or rather, I caved and had a play. I was going absolutely stir-crazy (as is slightly obvious re-reading my post from Sunday), and I needed the release. It served a purpose. But the saddest thing was that while I played, I found myself fantasising about my ex. And when I came, I felt empty. It's a sad day when someone as passionate, as loving, as sexual as me cannot enjoy an orgasm. Especially since it had been so bloody long since I had had one! But the truth is, I miss him. Not enough to try again, or even contact him (although thank God I had deleted his number because the mood I was in, I was sorely tempted). But how crap is it to describe a long-overdue orgasm as 'serving a purpose'?!
The thing that scares me is that I got involved with him when I was really not looking to get involved. In fact, at that time I had massive, justifiable trust issues with men. So given my utter refusal to get involved with anyone for another 50 weeks (give or take one or two), I am petrified that I am now more attractive as Sod's Law would have it. Who knows, I probably look like crap, and not having any male appreciation doesn't help with feeling like a fatty at the moment, but I digress. The point is I am not open to it, but that's when I met the last one who I absolutely fell for. We may not have been together long, but he did so much to restore my faith in humanity, as well as the intense spiritual, physical, personal and chemical connection we shared, that I do miss him on occasion. But the git invading my orgasm just showed me how necessary this sexual anorexia is.
This post wasn't supposed to be about him. I just want to forget him. Not in a nasty way, but to move on. I don't think of him anywhere near as much as I used to, but I still miss his presence. Had I not played, he wouldn't have invaded. But I guess its not his fault. And at the very least, I am starting to notice changes in my approaches to things, and I am able to step back from myself and notice patterns of behaviour, and catching myself before I mindlessly repeat these mistakes. So perhaps these 3-ish weeks have taught me something so far.
I used to pride myself on having a similar sex life to Samantha in Sex and the City. Nowhere near as many, not as casual (no one-night-stands for me), but I saw myself as liberated and getting what I wanted when I wanted it. The fuck buddies were trustworthy, and good blokes, and I always enjoyed myself with them. I don't speak to them anymore, not for any negative reason but because why would we stay in touch? That period of our time together is over, and that's fine. But I think the biggest issue is that now sex, for me, needs to be accompanied by genuine and intense emotion and connection. So when I do come out of sexual hibernation, I will probably be freaking scared of going there with a new guy and getting hurt. Standard I know, but this puts more pressure on them to be what I need. As I hate Disney's Prince Charming theory instilled in pretty much every little girl for the last 30 years, given that it pressures and burdens them, I gotta find a way round this. The purpose of this is to grow, rebuild, and become independent (but not isolate myself and push others away). So hopefully by the time this hypothetical scenario becomes a possibility, I will be in a strong place - and also not rush into a new relationship,thereby negating the trust issue. Or maybe not. Who knows, it's so flipping far away. But I do know that if I can learn so much in 3 weeks, I am likely to learn a hell of a lot more in the next 50.
But the thing bothering me as I write this is - will the sex be worth the emotional investment? The best sex I have ever had is with the someones I really felt for (3 in ten years = not so bad), but in my experience there is a window of time in which you either get it on or not - and if you don't by then, you end up as friends, albeit with unresolved sexual tension and its subsequent problems. But I'm worried that I'll meet someone, hold off having sex with them until I love them, but then the sex is crap and I'm stuck loving someone I don't want physically. That may sound okay to some, but I cannot settle for that. I get that sex in relationships peaks and troughs, but as a passionate fiery person I need to physically express my feelings for the person I love. Not to mention sex unites a couple. And also once you decide to wait it puts pressure on the first time when it does happen. It's different waiting as a teenager, there is an acceptance that you might not be ready, but as adults there seems to be a rush into the bedroom - and waiting is seen by many guys as being a prick-tease. And if it starts to get physically intense between you but you want to wait, how do you know a fully grown adult man will be able to control himself and not accidentally go too far?
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Cold turkey kicks in
Have been doing this for less than a week. Found myself flirting with a guy at work the other night on a work night out, and caught myself. He was very cute, but a total player. Rugby playing confident cheeky blonde boy, just my type. Excused myself and went to the bathroom for a stern self-bollocking.
Truth is, human interaction is extremely common, it happens all the time. And it feels so wrong to be denying the possibility of something when we are taught, from infanthood, that Mr Right is waiting, if only we make ourselves look a certain way and behave in a certain manner to attract and keep him. Having espoused the dangers of Disney and the sheer absurdity of depending on someone else to resolve your imperfections and 'complete' you, I have become aware that I, whilst not doing this to that degree, was essentially scared to be alone.
Being single is amazing.Its really nice to curl up with a book for hours in my sweatpants, or stay in on a Saturday night and have a bath with a glass of wine and a facemask. I don't have to justify my smoking to anyone, nor make sure I shave my legs. I don't have to put up with someone else's family or endure the football anymore. I can essentially do what I want, when I want to. I am free.
Except being single really sucks. I think when you're in a relationship you take it for granted that you have someone else's support, someone else's affection and time. Obviously here I am referring to healthy relationships, not abusive ones. I miss the intimacy. I miss the private jokes. I miss the sex. I miss being curled up in his arms on the sofa. I miss the hours spent staring in each other's eyes, looking into his soul and seeing myself there. I miss him spending 2 hours making me handmade pasta from scratch, and standng talking and kissing in the kitchen while he did it. I miss the mutual friends being round our home and all laughing together, nights round the kitchen table while we shared the cooking and entertaining. I miss going to restaurants together and keeping the waiter waiting because he keeps kissing me tenderly over the table. I miss missing him. I miss the anticipation of seeing him, knowing I am coming home to a giant hug and those magical arms which, when around you, make the whole world go away and everything seem right. I miss how beautiful the world seems when you walk in the park or along the beach. I miss the shared sunsets. I miss the plans we had which will never now be realised, the dreams we had of things we would see do and discover together. I ended it, but I still miss it all. Just not the crap stuff.
Wow. Writing that was pretty cathartic. I don't think I knew, until I just read that back to myself, how much I miss him. So this imposed singledom is the best idea for me. Celibacy as a definition usually refers to just sex, but in my case I am taking it to mean any kind of romantic involvement, so not even flirting with anyone. It has to be this way and I am going to prove to myself I can do this and I do not need a man.
Truth is, human interaction is extremely common, it happens all the time. And it feels so wrong to be denying the possibility of something when we are taught, from infanthood, that Mr Right is waiting, if only we make ourselves look a certain way and behave in a certain manner to attract and keep him. Having espoused the dangers of Disney and the sheer absurdity of depending on someone else to resolve your imperfections and 'complete' you, I have become aware that I, whilst not doing this to that degree, was essentially scared to be alone.
Being single is amazing.Its really nice to curl up with a book for hours in my sweatpants, or stay in on a Saturday night and have a bath with a glass of wine and a facemask. I don't have to justify my smoking to anyone, nor make sure I shave my legs. I don't have to put up with someone else's family or endure the football anymore. I can essentially do what I want, when I want to. I am free.
Except being single really sucks. I think when you're in a relationship you take it for granted that you have someone else's support, someone else's affection and time. Obviously here I am referring to healthy relationships, not abusive ones. I miss the intimacy. I miss the private jokes. I miss the sex. I miss being curled up in his arms on the sofa. I miss the hours spent staring in each other's eyes, looking into his soul and seeing myself there. I miss him spending 2 hours making me handmade pasta from scratch, and standng talking and kissing in the kitchen while he did it. I miss the mutual friends being round our home and all laughing together, nights round the kitchen table while we shared the cooking and entertaining. I miss going to restaurants together and keeping the waiter waiting because he keeps kissing me tenderly over the table. I miss missing him. I miss the anticipation of seeing him, knowing I am coming home to a giant hug and those magical arms which, when around you, make the whole world go away and everything seem right. I miss how beautiful the world seems when you walk in the park or along the beach. I miss the shared sunsets. I miss the plans we had which will never now be realised, the dreams we had of things we would see do and discover together. I ended it, but I still miss it all. Just not the crap stuff.
Wow. Writing that was pretty cathartic. I don't think I knew, until I just read that back to myself, how much I miss him. So this imposed singledom is the best idea for me. Celibacy as a definition usually refers to just sex, but in my case I am taking it to mean any kind of romantic involvement, so not even flirting with anyone. It has to be this way and I am going to prove to myself I can do this and I do not need a man.
Self-imposed singledom and seclusion
So, as the title un-pithily suggests, I am taking some time off from sex. A year, to be specific.
My decision to do this has stemmed from the shocking realisation that I have not been truly single in 10 years. 10 years of dating, bullshit and putting them first, over myself and my career, and sometimes even over my friends. A truth no-one wants to admit to, but let's face it we have all done it. It's pretty much impossible not to - they become your world and you the moon around them. Sound familiar? But when you wake up one day and don't even recognise yourself in the mirror, don't know what you have become or how you even got there, it's time to make a change. I also suffered a nasty sexual assault, but I have been involved with someone since. But these things combined to make me realise I needed some time off. A year to be precise.
Don't get me wrong, I will miss sex. I love sex - but sex when it is good, not dangerous or destructive. Sex in a loving, mutually trusting and safe environment. Risks which are calculated and agreed upon. This is not a life-long commitment, nor is it for religious reasons (though big respect to those who do this for those reasons). I plan to have sex again one day, but when I can handle it without getting so intoxicated by the heady power of it. My ex and I were extremely sexual and it got too much, it became addictive. The last time I had sex was with him, ex sex, and thats how it is staying. So thus begins a year of sel-imposed celibacy.
I suppose this is something like Josh Hartnett's character in 40 Days and 40 Nights. However there are several differences applicable here: One, mine is for a hell of a lot longer. Two, I doubt mine will be full of comedy moments. Three, I will not allow myself to think of anyone in this way, or meet anyone whilst doing this. Four, I am not a guy so I don't need to empty my balls every so often. But I can imagine there will be significant parallels in terms of sexual frustration. The imposition of my no-masturbation rule is going to be fucking tough (if you'll pardon the pun), but necessary - how can I cut sex out of my life if I still have a healthy sexual imagination? It would be like being a vegetarian and still eating beef, or being on a diet but eating a whole cake every day. Pointless, and likely to lead to falling off the wagon. Well I intend to stay firmly on the wagon to singlesville, yessir.
To channel my frustrations, and to keep myself on course, I intend to blog about my experiences. I doubt many people I know would understand my decision to do this, given just how fantastic and necessary sex is. Some of my girlfriends might even think I am abstaining in order to meet Mr Right and for us to fall deeply in love without the complication of sex, but I am somewhat more realistic than that. Guys rarely if ever fall in love with a woman without having had sex with her, despite what popular media might have us believe. But this isn't about a guy, this is about me. For the first time in 10 years, I can honestly say there is no-one in my life, and no-one I am thinking about getting involved with.
The only question is, how the hell am I actually going to have the willpower to do this??? Somehow I think conversations with my girlfriends about their men and their habits are going to be tough to take. And whats the old saying - as soon as you close one door you open a window? And you're most attractive when you're not available? Nights out should be fun. But if I can sustain this for a year, as planned, then I can prove to myself I can do anything. If I do happen to meet a guy along the way, he can wait. As children and teenagers we are always told if he is decent he will wait. If not, he is not worth it. Given how crappy my taste in men can be, avoiding the bad ones will be a welcome respite.
My decision to do this has stemmed from the shocking realisation that I have not been truly single in 10 years. 10 years of dating, bullshit and putting them first, over myself and my career, and sometimes even over my friends. A truth no-one wants to admit to, but let's face it we have all done it. It's pretty much impossible not to - they become your world and you the moon around them. Sound familiar? But when you wake up one day and don't even recognise yourself in the mirror, don't know what you have become or how you even got there, it's time to make a change. I also suffered a nasty sexual assault, but I have been involved with someone since. But these things combined to make me realise I needed some time off. A year to be precise.
Don't get me wrong, I will miss sex. I love sex - but sex when it is good, not dangerous or destructive. Sex in a loving, mutually trusting and safe environment. Risks which are calculated and agreed upon. This is not a life-long commitment, nor is it for religious reasons (though big respect to those who do this for those reasons). I plan to have sex again one day, but when I can handle it without getting so intoxicated by the heady power of it. My ex and I were extremely sexual and it got too much, it became addictive. The last time I had sex was with him, ex sex, and thats how it is staying. So thus begins a year of sel-imposed celibacy.
I suppose this is something like Josh Hartnett's character in 40 Days and 40 Nights. However there are several differences applicable here: One, mine is for a hell of a lot longer. Two, I doubt mine will be full of comedy moments. Three, I will not allow myself to think of anyone in this way, or meet anyone whilst doing this. Four, I am not a guy so I don't need to empty my balls every so often. But I can imagine there will be significant parallels in terms of sexual frustration. The imposition of my no-masturbation rule is going to be fucking tough (if you'll pardon the pun), but necessary - how can I cut sex out of my life if I still have a healthy sexual imagination? It would be like being a vegetarian and still eating beef, or being on a diet but eating a whole cake every day. Pointless, and likely to lead to falling off the wagon. Well I intend to stay firmly on the wagon to singlesville, yessir.
To channel my frustrations, and to keep myself on course, I intend to blog about my experiences. I doubt many people I know would understand my decision to do this, given just how fantastic and necessary sex is. Some of my girlfriends might even think I am abstaining in order to meet Mr Right and for us to fall deeply in love without the complication of sex, but I am somewhat more realistic than that. Guys rarely if ever fall in love with a woman without having had sex with her, despite what popular media might have us believe. But this isn't about a guy, this is about me. For the first time in 10 years, I can honestly say there is no-one in my life, and no-one I am thinking about getting involved with.
The only question is, how the hell am I actually going to have the willpower to do this??? Somehow I think conversations with my girlfriends about their men and their habits are going to be tough to take. And whats the old saying - as soon as you close one door you open a window? And you're most attractive when you're not available? Nights out should be fun. But if I can sustain this for a year, as planned, then I can prove to myself I can do anything. If I do happen to meet a guy along the way, he can wait. As children and teenagers we are always told if he is decent he will wait. If not, he is not worth it. Given how crappy my taste in men can be, avoiding the bad ones will be a welcome respite.
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