What It’s Like To Be Celibate In A Big City
A Touchpoint True Story About Not Having Sex
I didn’t choose it. It just happened.
One month turned to two, and then suddenly I started thinking, I’m not going to break this celibacy with just anyone. Now, it’s been four months and twenty days since the last time I had sex but, hey, who is counting?
I have come to a point in my life where I don’t want to have sex just to have sex. It used to be so much fun — the spontaneity, the mystery, the naughtiness of it all. But not any more. I’m tired of the same old thing — sleeping with men who don’t totally appreciate me, and more specifically, me not appreciating myself.
I’m tired of having sleepovers that I’m not excited about or even comfortable with. It’s funny how falling asleep together can often feel more intimate than actual sexual intercourse.
While on this journey of celibacy, a few interesting things have shifted.
I’ve gotten to know my body better.
The absence of lovers has left me to my own devices — literally. I’m masturbating more and starting to understand new things about myself. How do I like to be touched? What things make me feel safe? Loving me. It’s been such an eye-opening exploration.
Women are coming on to me more.
I’ve explored with women in the past, but I’ve always considered myself more strongly attracted to men. But in these past few months, I’ve had more opportunities to cultivate intimacy with women than ever before. Perhaps it’s the resistance to masculine energy that is signaling I’m more available to women. I really don’t know. But the women have been beautiful, kind, and comforting.
I haven’t gone down that rabbit hole yet, but sinking into the idea of sexuality as an expression of real connection and tenderness that isn’t rooted in gender feels good.
My preferences have changed.
As I’ve learned to honor my body and my time, my partner preferences have also evolved. It’s not exclusively about our instant chemistry. It’s about one simple question that I’m not sure I ever asked myself before:
Do you deserve me?
No longer am I consumed with how much I want someone, but rather, I’m left wondering, is this somebody that’s worth investing my time and attention and breaking my celibacy?
Ever since puberty, my life has been a constant sexual exploration.
I feel as though I’ve done it all. I’ve played with men, women, in groups, in public, with toys, everything.
Turning off the faucet for a little while and simply reflecting on who I am and what I believe I deserve has been a life-changing experience.
To my next partner,
I’m not sure who you are or where we’ll meet.
But I know that when we finally do connect,
what lies ahead is something soulful, sexual, and magical.
It’s something worth waiting for.
I know.
I deserve it.
