4 Things I Learned Going From Sex-Obsessed To Celibate
Hello. My name is Jessica, and I love sex.
Okay, "love" is an understatement. I'm pretty damn obsessed with getting my freak on. I have the appetite of a nymphomaniac, but since I am also demisexual, I can only be my true nympho self with someone I care about.
Unfortunately, I've always had a higher sex drive than any man I've ever met. Many fights have erupted because my boyfriends just could not keep up with me. This drove me crazy. I thought I was ugly and undesirable, or that something was wrong with me.
The unsatisfactory amount of sex I received eventually played a role in the end of my relationship. My ex started to resent me, and the person I used to make love to started using my body like a human blow-up doll.
After my first breakup, I quickly found someone else to date. But this time I started noticing unhealthy factors in our relationship, and I realized I had to learn to be alone. This also meant I had to forego my favorite act, aka sex, which for me was like learning to live without oxygen. It was a f*cking death sentence for my vagina.
After my breakup, everyone told me to go f*ck every dick on the planet, since I'd slept with only three people. But it's just not in me to sleep around. I'm a highly sensitive person, and I wanted to wait until I found someone I could trust.
I wanted to be someone's personal porn star, not a sex toy. So I went from nympho to nun. And took some time to just do me. Pun intended.
Transitioning from regular sex to having no sex at all taught me four critical lessons.
1. Abstinence can be empowering.
Sex has always been on my mind. In fact, in middle school, one of my AIM screen names was "Jessgasm." As I grew up, I became the girl who would wake her boyfriend up with a blowjob. In other words, I'm the freaking female version of Trey Songz.
Recently, I've had opportunities where I could have slept with guys you would call "hot." But I've passed on all of them. I can't say that I haven't been physically tempted, but my mind has cock-blocked me every time. The thought of doing the deed with some random guy has just never been appealing to me.
I'm not saying it's immoral to let your freak flag fly with anybody, but it simply goes against what I like to do. So even though the dry spells were torturous, I knew I was doing the right thing for me.
And because I learned I was capable of resisting physical temptation, I became mentally stronger.
2. Fleeting pleasure doesn't equal lasting happiness.
There's definitely a difference between happiness and pleasure, but it can be surprisingly easy to confuse the two. When you become so elated from a partner's perfect penis, you can miss the fact that he's actually a complete d*ck.
Sex is a drug, and once you're addicted to the dopamine release it brings you, your partner becomes a sort of drug dealer. He or she is the gatekeeper between you and your fix. This unfortunately gives the person a certain power or control over you and your happiness.
Once I finally cut off that person and sex out of my life, I was able to regain control. It was a struggle, but by separating myself from my sexuality, I was able to cultivate my own happiness: The kind that lasts much, much longer than a short-lived orgasm. Soon I found fulfillment in the things I accomplished, instead of how many times I made a man curl his toes.
3. No f*cking means more focus on what you really love.
Ladies, when you're not using your box, you're more inclined to think outside of it. Men, when you're not using your little head, you're more likely to use your big one.It's easier to brainstorm when your head isn't being banged against walls or headboards.
Not having sex has given me time to come up with new ideas and activities. I'm not thinking of different ways to flex my body or techniques to get someone off. Instead, I've had time and ENERGY (ahem) to think about new articles, projects and authentic ways to better my sense of self.
4. Making love doesn't help you love yourself.
It's possible that I found sex so addicting because it was a form of acceptance. Someone was accepting my body, and I craved that energy. I wanted to be wanted -- constantly.
But I never wanted to want myself. In other words, I valued someone else's acceptance of me far more than I valued my own. I should have loved my mind and body instead of wanting someone else to love them for me. I was so caught up in wanting physical attention that I lost sight of how important it was that I value myself, too.
At the end of the day, you are all you have. And by you, I'm talking about your soul. Your body will wither, your face will wrinkle, and Viagra exists for a reason, so it's essential to care about the person inside your body instead of using your body as a distraction from the person it encases.
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