So, am I "looking forward to having sex again?" That seems to be the big question nowadays. And so far my answer, to both myself and everyone asking me, has been: "Ehhh. I dunno." I mean, shit. Of course I've been thinking about "doin' it". Of course when I see or meet attractive men throughout any given day, I fantasize about them. But mostly, I've been going on innocently through my life, feeling fine and dandy and not focused on sex at all. I don't think about what day I'm at, nor how badly I want a dick in my mouth. Then I'll have moments, like when I hear a Ginuwine song, or remember Joel Kinnaman, and well, it'll be a wrap. From zero-to-instantly good to go, if you know what I'm sayin'. But at the same time, in reality, I feel no real rush to get it in anytime soon. Still. The question remains: will I want it?
It's hard to say. Things have changed for me. I've changed. As a woman who has gone through a major shift, no matter how sex-driven and man-hungry I've always been, it's become almost impossible to have a simple answer. That's why "ehhhh" is really the best reply I've got. Sure, seeing as I've got about two weeks to go, it probably merits a proper answer now. But more so, I want to know because I'm curious about what my answer really is, and why it's been so tricky for me to even have an answer. I had to think: how am I feeling towards sex now, today? Because prior to my trip to Puerto Rico, I was feeling pretty negatively towards the act:
From the start of these 100 days, all the way through mid-February, the reality of sex started to mentally change for me. Before, I had always looked and experienced sex from a vaginal viewpoint only. Thinking with my "other head", so to speak. I had never understood why women constantly questioned my approach to men and sex, or why they thought I was a slut. I knew part of it had to be because most women can't separate sex from emotions. So for many of them, to wrap their heads around how I lived my lifestyle unscathed was impossible. I've often been asked what's my "formula" for separating sex from feelings; how do I do it, and happily? The only answer I ever had before was: recognize the reality of your situation(s). Don't tell yourself a "story". Don't get caught up in the fantasy of who you think / wish a guy could be. Understand who and what he really is. Understand if it's just sex and nothing more. And of course, be comfortable with yourself, and able to thoroughly enjoy the physical aspects of sex. But after a month into this project, my answer to the "how are you capable of compartmentalizing?" inquiry changed. Sadly, I'm not some superhuman female. I'm not a cold, man-eating bitch, and I'm not "better" than other women. Here was my newly-realized truth: I had been incapable of opening up emotionally. That's how I did it. That was my big fucking secret (no pun intended.) So I used sex the only way I could, the only way I was able: as a source of complete PHYSICAL pleasure. That's why I never had a problem using men to get off, or if sex was "just" sex. Because for me, it was enough.
But as the 100 days continued on, I started to be capable and brave enough to look at sex through more emotional (and fully honest) eyes. I was no longer having sex, so I was no longer able to blind myself with its physical attributes. I'd be reflecting on my past encounters, and instead of continuing to revere them as sources of pure bodily joy, I was faced with a new and brutal reality. It's not that I have regrets about my sex life, I don't. What was making me feel terrible was when I stopped thinking with my vagina, and started thinking with my head and heart, all the color-coating of my history dissolved. I was left with something very cold and very bland. Now instead of sex being (and remaining) something that fulfilled me, it was something that left me feeling devoid and devalued. No, not the guys, not the act of sex. Nope. I was the guilty party. I made me less worthy. I didn't even give myself a chance for something greater, something more. Whether that stemmed from me never feeling I WAS worth more, or because I couldn't be honest with myself that I did want more, doesn't matter. It happened. That's why even the thought alone of sex with a guy like Night Before Guy started to make me feel sad. Not because of him, not because of sex. But because I was better than a just a vag, and yet that's all I had been thinking with, and all I had been giving anyone. With all my sexual experiences, emotionally-speaking I had years of nothing to show for it. I had never before seen casual sex for what it really was, and honestly, I didn't like it nor did I want it anymore.
That was a big part of why I wasn't sure if I was looking forward to having sex again. I was realizing, to a point of nausea, that "just sex" sex is the only kind I've ever known. For so long, physical was the only kind of intimacy I felt comfortable with. So to ask me if I'm excited about having sex again was a question I almost didn't even want to answer. Because really...what was sex, really? I didn't want to return to a casual lifestyle pattern, but how do I move forward? How does one have meaningful sex?!? How do I NOT have casual sex? I was at a loss for answers.
At that point in time, I was struggling to understand if I was ever going to want sex again. Who would I be within it, when it finally did happen? But then...I went to Puerto Rico, and I met a guy named Portland. In the brief time we shared, I realized it's possible to have sexual feelings/chemistry, AND to open up to someone beyond that. And even if that connection lasts just two days, even if theres no sex involved, it can be fulfilling and beautiful. I learned that meaningful, memorable connections can be achieved by opening up not just physically, but emotionally. It sounds so simple. But for me, the only way to have gotten to this place was to find myself first, by resolving years of personal bullshit and put-downs. I had never imagined or understood the rewards you stand to gain by opening up, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and letting someone get to know you, the real you. I always saw that as weakness. I saw leading with emotions as the enemy, something only "girls" did, something that would cause me pain. It wasn't brave to let myself feel, give someone a truly painful way to reject me. But now I see it's really the opposite. To open up, allow yourself to feel, to honestly know yourself and present that self to others, takes an incredible amount of courage. And gives yourself the chance to know people in ways no amount of fucking can provide.
A lot of these self-discoveries hurt like hell, and often I found myself wanting to stop. I made myself not only continue to ask, but also answer, the hardest questions, and face harsh truths. But I'm at a point where I've found a balance, a new plane that lies above all the crap I uncovered and since resolved. What's ironic is now that I've reached this unexpected level of self-acceptance and love, I'm probably more capable of having no-strings sex than ever before. I've gotten to a place where I'm so self-sufficient and happy with myself, that I'd actually be able to healthily do all those things I only thought I was able to do in past. The separation of sex and emotions, the compartmentalizing, the not getting jealous, the loving-and-leaving. I could do all that now, comfortably, without it unknowingly eating away at my soul. But now, would I even want to? Who can say for sure? We've all got needs. And sometimes a great fuck is what it takes to get off, not meaningful sex. Not every guy I meet will be worth committing to; he'll be good for one thing, and that's fine. But do I plan on doing that regularly, jumping right back into the no-strings lifestyle once "I'm free!" from this challenge? No. To be real, I kind of wish these 100 days weren't almost over. I like not thinking about it. I like hanging out with me. I like being in a place where I really got to know myself and figure things out, without stupid sexual distractions. It's priceless, and no man can give it to you. I mean, they can "give it to you", but..the benefits are so vastly uneven in scale it almost makes sex not worth my time, not yet. So I'll be approaching "life after 100" the same way I approached it during: one day at a time, in the moment, being completely real and honest with myself. And I'll just take it from there. I know that's not really an answer, but as you've probably surmised, the "are you looking forward to having sex again" question is...complicated. My view may change tomorrow, it may not. Do I plan on counting down the minutes til midnight of April 1st, and straddling the first crotch I see? No. Will I be meticulously arranging for someone to swing by and jump on it as soon as it's day 102? Nope. Am I organizing a BBQ + mass orgy in my house for anyone who cares to join (BYOB)? No, no and no.
But I don't want to leave anyone hanging. What I am looking forward to, isn't sex. It's BETTER sex. I'm not looking forward to sex just because I'll be "allowed" to have it again soon. I'm not looking forward to sex so I can get off, nor because I've got needs. I'm not looking forward to having sex because I can finally hook up with guys I've wanted to for months. I'm looking forward to sex because I'm so much more self-assured and capable now. I'm excited at the prospect of being assertive and getting myself what I really want and deserve. I'm excited to say no when I really want to say no, and I'm excited to say yes to someone who's worth it. I'm excited to give myself choices, and choose wisely. I'm looking forward to having more real, meaningful connections, because for the first time ever I'll be open to knowing people, and able to be open with them in return. This does not mean I'll be holding out until I have a "boyfriend". This doesn't mean I'll be abstaining for the sake of abstaining. This means I'll be taking it in stride, and if I like something, I'll go with it. And the only kind of sex that can lead to is better sex. And that, my friends, is definitely worth waiting 100 days for.
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