It’s been a long and quiet year for me as far as writing here goes, which has probably lead you all to believe that I was just another “pop and fizzle” blogger who was once passionate about writing, and writing about passion, only to have my effervescence go flat with either waning disinterest, or the laziness of allowing life to swallow my passion up and take my attentions elsewhere.
Well, neither of those could be further for the truth for me, and since the entire premise behind my blog here is unbridled truth, I’m breaking my silence.
One of the reasons I started this blog was help others feel less alone in their desires, to be a voice of sexual positivity, and a to be a champion of owning one’s sexuality and being proud of it. And while there are many stigmas associated with being a woman who unapologetically and enthusiastically celebrates her love of sex, there are just as many stigmas around not having sex.
Ironically, in the first year of my decision to blog about my erotic life which has always been so vibrant, my recent erotic life has been anything but.
Ladies and gentlemen, it has been one year and 3 1/2 months since I have had sex, and to me, that’s embarrassing to admit. This is the longest amount of time in all of my sexually-active life that I have gone without having sex with a partner, and let me tell you, I am like a powder keg of sexual tension ready to ignite. The next man I fuck had better have a mighty healthy heart because I’m going to hit his shores like Hurricane Katrina, and there will be no Red Cross in sight.
Now it started out as an intentional thing. I needed to avoid intimate relationships of any level just so I could focus on me because unfortunately, I have a past of losing myself in people, and putting myself last. That was also not an intentional modus operandi, but it was something I eventually became aware of about myself through much introspection. Well, introspection, and pattern recognition. I kind of touched on my inner questioning about that in a post from earlier this year aptly called Musings of a Gun Shy Heart. I needed time alone to work on me, which sounds so much like canned psycho-babble, but is really the most honest way to say it. I needed to put me first without distractions that might throw me back into a way of being that was not working for me.
Well, that was all well and good. Expectedly, and in some ways unexpectedly, my libido went from high, to low, and then completely did a disappearing act on me to the point where I was really getting concerned about myself. I have a very strong libido, and although it ebbs and flows like everyone else’s, it’s never been nonexistent. Honestly, that was pretty scary. I should be in my sexual prime! I started to begin to have more questions than I originally started with. I thought maybe that my self-imposed drought had brought on a biological one.
There were a couple of times that I thought to write about that, but how can I be a sex blogger who isn’t having sex, let alone one who has the libido of a blueberry muffin? As much as there is a judgement around being a whore by society if you’re a woman having lots of sex, there is as heavy a judgement about you if you aren’t having any; you must be unattractive, unwanted, discarded, or frigid. I am by far none of those things, and even if the choice to not be intimate sexually (or otherwise) was my own, it didn’t make me unafraid of those judgements being cast upon me from people who don’t know my inner story. It’s funny, in some ways I feared those judgements more than being thought of as a slut for having my sexuality being such a large part of my identity.
After about a full year without having sex I told myself it was now ok to be open to meeting someone. That was the end of July. Now that I’m totally open to meeting someone though, I still have these anxieties plaguing my psyche around my “picker” being broken. One, I need to make sure to put me first (my schooling, my goals, my homelike, my running, i.e. things that are good for me), and 2) I need to be real about what I am looking for. By “be real” I mean really know and be honest with myself about what it is I am looking for in the short term and long term, be clear about what I expect from both of those types of choices, and not compromise on things I know I shouldn’t compromise on.
Luckily for me, that hide and seek libido was only temporary. And not only did my sexual appetite reappear with a vengence, but I’ve also discovered, through some frank discussions and fun flirtations, that my more kinky desires were not totally extinguished either as I had once thought they had been! Who doesn’t like surprises like that? (Read Coffee, Sleeping Beauty, and BD/SM to get the backstory)
That all being said, as much as I am just dying for some really great sex with intimacy (real connection is an essential component of great sex) you who have been reading this blog know, it takes more than someone who just looks hot to get my panties wet. Case in point, Towel Boy. (Hmm, did I blog about him? If not, you can look forward to that story coming…ahem…soon.) I love men with strong sexual prowess that matches my own, but I also need something to intellectually spark my desire, otherwise everything else is lost on me. On occasion this can get me into trouble, trouble which I will lovingly nickname the “Don Draper” effect; an intelligent, sexually confident man, who is really completely emotionally unavailable. That being said, I’m cautious. I’m doing my best to not allow my hormones to get me into trouble.
So there you have it, my blogging hiatus fully explained. If you too are out there not having sex as much as you would like, either by choice or by happenstance, you’re not alone, and it doesn’t make you anything less than who you are: human.