March 15th, 2018. The last time I had sex was over six months ago. I know the date not because it was so great or because I made some conscious choice to stop having sex post that roll around the hay. I know the date because after a while I realized it had been a while and I wanted to know just how long “awhile” really was.
The adjustment was hard at first. I couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to scratch an itch. But, it was located in a place I couldn’t reach myself despite any efforts on my part to do so. It was an entire month before I realized this might become a real “drought.” Which isn’t to say opportunities didn’t present themselves, as they did. They always do. An opportunity for a one night stand that failed and I thanked God because those have never been my style. An invitation from the last man I cared about (that would’ve likely broken my heart again) never happened because follow through was never his strong suit. A date with a man who would give me the world if I’d let him but I couldn’t break his heart the way mine had been broken. The friend’s coworker whose schedule never aligned for a drink, so clearly, nothing else was going to happen there.
I’d be lying if I said I haven’t missed “it” at times. “It” not being the physical act of sex, as great as orgasms are. “It” being the connection sex generates if we let it. “It” being the moment after we’ve both finished but they’re still lingering. “It” as in the peace of head on chest because we got it all out and now it’s time to rest.
I’m not one of those girls who think making someone wait for sex will make them stick around. I’m also not someone who believes sex is or has to be inherently complicated. And at this moment in my life, I’m not feeling particularly religious so it isn’t about God either. It, the “it” I mentioned before just stopped and I realized I’m willing to wait. Willing to be a bit more intentional about who I share my space with. I want to be impressed, attracted, interested, and connected. Not one, but all four. That doesn’t mean the next person I sleep with will be my husband or even boyfriend. Hell, we might not even end up in a situationship.I'm in a moment where I want to genuinely feel good about whoever I allow into my body, instead of just having sex because it's expected or something to do. Click To Tweet
It means I’m in a moment where I want to genuinely feel good about whoever I allow into my body, instead of just having sex because it’s expected or something to do. This time as the sole inhabitant of the space my body and spirit occupies has shown me where I’m not loving myself right, where I can learn to let people in, and ultimately what I may want from a future romantic relationship. It’s given me space to see what wounds from past relationships I still need to heal from.
I have issues with romantic and sexual intimacy. I’m perfectly fine and happy to do the emotional work of being present for someone else, but resist it being shown back to me. I keep records of wrongs. I can tell you all the times you hurt me and all the ways I forgave you as if being a martyr for someone who doesn’t think twice about me is a good thing. I rarely like the man I’m “supposed” to. I’ve convinced myself love has to be something hard even though all the evidence in front of me proves that to be extremely contrary. From going to back to therapy, I know it’s because I’ve been hurt before and don’t want to be again. But sex and a relationship, if that happens to come with it, shouldn’t take all the bracing. I’m still working every day to forgive myself for the things I gave and shouldn’t have, as well as, the things I let them take.
So maybe it wasn’t a conscious choice, but it has ended up being the right thing for where I’m at right now. And besides, who gone choke me like I need to be choked? It’s true that I won’t know until I let someone try. But maybe, this knowledge of self will make me better able to communicate what I need so that with the right person, the learning curve won’t have to be so steep.
The question being, right for the night or right for life? Time, like always, will tell. Maybe I’m just one connection away from the real thing. Maybe we all are. And maybe, just maybe, it’s worth waiting for.