Sex Sex Sex – a MasterClass in Getting None

My group of friends are very sexual people. I enjoy listening to their sexy adventures, and I don’t for one second feel like I am living vicariously through them. I just feel bad that I can’t reciprocate in the story telling, unless I revisit my ancient sexual history. How long has it been?

If you’re related to me, you may want to stop reading now

I am trying not to over share because, shit, I’m pretty sure my sons may one day stumble upon this post. I’ve been very honest about my blog with them, but still. I don’t think they want to read about this. So look away sons! Turn back — it may already be too late!

The last time I had sex was 10 days after my divorce was finalized. It was hate/pity fuck with the ex, and it wasn’t even good. I regretted it almost as soon as it was over. Wasn’t worth the effort of getting off.

That was the punctuation placed at the end of my sex sentence. Sad to say, by the end of it all, sex with the ex had felt more like a chore than anything I ever enjoyed. In fact, I have a hard time remembering the good times. Did I even like having sex?

Danger lies ahead…

Yes. There were times it was good when I got it, and I readily admit sex was often the cause of many a bad decision. Fuck my life. Literally.

So now when I hear other people talk about it, namely from friends within my close circle, it sounds like the sort of shit that happens to other people and I just don’t see the appeal.

My marriage life was rough. I didn’t leave that relationship until I was covered in emotional battle scars. Mentally beaten and bloody I stumbled away and have tried to find myself. But it killed the sexual being in me all the way.

Sex was not the problem

In the beginning, the sex was all we had. It was the one area of the relationship where we were clearly compatible. But that compatibility wasn’t enough when he found someone else to fulfill his emotional needs better than me.

In the evidence that I collected of the first affair(s?), whatever physical relationship the ex had with the other woman was lacking in the bedroom, and the ex even cited it as a reason why it was hard to leave and why he stayed with me.

I have been accused of being a really good lay. Cruder words were used at times, and astonishingly I believe they were called for, because, what can I say? Apparently the V is addictive.

Strengths and Weaknesses

What I may do well at in the bedroom, I lack in equal amounts in other areas. For example, I have a hard time expressing myself emotionally. Thanks to all my damage, I see emotions as weaknesses, and I am not good with being vulnerable. Crying is bad, feeling empathy, sympathy, and any emotion softer than anger should be rejected.

The ex taught me that vulnerability is a dangerous thing. I allowed myself to be vulnerable with him and it came back to haunt me. That was a regretful decision.

He hurt me intentionally using my vulnerable points against me. I can’t get hurt like that again. I can’t allow it.

I don’t think I have it in me to recover a second time. My sons are grown, I may be fatally tempted to take the easy way out. That’s me being honest with myself. I had never in my life been driven so close to the edge.

No repeats

For a self aware control freak, grappling with the knowledge that I had no control over my life, and that everything I had known about the person I had placed all of my trust into was a lie was the worst. It caused me to doubt myself, my abilities.

I no longer trusted me, and I have to be with myself all the time. I didn’t trust my own judgement, I became a reactionary creature. I’ve spent seven years crawling on my belly out of that pit, and I’m not even all the way out. I’m not even off the ground.

But my friends don’t get it. They look at me like I’m a puzzle they can’t see the shape of. They can’t conceptualize not wanting to have sex with another person. Ever.

I used to think like that. There was a moment in my life when I wielded sex as a weapon. I think I could have made a good spy. I could have compartmentalized it all and wielded the honey pot like a weapon, because it can be. Sex psychology talks about it all the time.

Even consensual sex can have repercussions. I will admit that I used sex sometimes to get my way. I may have even used it to get control over the ex since it was easy to see he was in love with fucking my body even if he wasn’t in love with me.

Should probably seek professional help

I now fear sex. I haven’t talked to a professional to know if that is a healthy thing or not. It probably isn’t but it feels like not the worst outcome. Not like I’m in a relationship or trying to have more kids. I’ve never wanted an early menopause more.

I’ve been reading here and there that sexuality can change, nothing is fixed and it is more fluid.

I agree. I would identify at this juncture in my life as demisexual. I feel it is possible that if I was in love with someone, that emotional pull might be strong enough for me to feel sexual desire again.

That’s my working theory at least. The only evidence I have is that I have found someone attractive in the years since my divorce, but I haven’t wanted to act on it. And nothing other than an irrational emotional bond would have kept me thirsty for the ex, because I couldn’t get over how much I loathed him as a person. I sure got good at tucking that bomb into a box when it was convenient.

Thanks to Relationship PTSD I am very risk averse and have carefully avoided situations where I might be exposed. Exposed to someone with a dick who wanted to use it on me. Not even casually. Fuck that.

But there’s a little piece of me that wants that back. It starts with if things were different… And then I rationalize how I could go to a club to people watch. That I could go to a bar after work to get a drink. That I would be okay with not being approached and going home alone. But the fact is that part of me is not okay with it.

The fine art of self-sabotage

I don’t dress for attention. The high school grunge tomboy in me doesn’t do sexy dress. I’d rather be comfortable than try too hard for nothing. I am no longer comfortable flirting because I don’t want it to lead anyone on. I’m at a place in life where a strict No Douchebags Allowed sign should be tattooed on my forehead or nailed to my front door.

Basically, I beat men to the punch. I’m cutting myself down before anyone else has the opportunity to. I’m very sure, a professional would say that is super unhealthy. Probably why I’m not trying harder to seek professional help. I’m a masochist too.

Navigating the murky waters of sexual inequality

I think about this gal at work. She’s a single mom, sort of in a relationship, she’s got a bunch of kids… But at work, her identity and sense of self is 100% tied to the opinion of others. Especially the opinion of male others.

She talks about wanting to be like me, she wants to train for my position at work, and I want to train my replacement. I’m looking to move up and into a role with more responsibility, more pay. More opportunities.

I really dislike the aspect of her personality that lacks self-confidence, and basically the fact that she wants men’s attention, but resents the negative female reaction to her being the schoolyard hoe.

My point is that it is hard being a woman in this world. It is hard being a person, but I can only speak to the female experience. In my experience, even when working for a diverse and inclusive company, you still have to deal with gender inequality and sexual discrimination.

Yes, as a woman, you can be discriminated for being sexual. If your professional persona is tied to the belief that you are easy, or you are a flirt, or you’re potentially somebody’s next booty call, no matter how hard you work, someone is always going to question your authority. It happens to her all the time.

Gotta keep it separated

Does anybody question my authority at work? Fuck no. They wouldn’t dare. I’m proud (and shook) at just how much power my word wields for someone not just newer to the company, but in a position that is not meant to have that much influence. Yet I have managed to become that person.

Do people at work know I can have a good time? Yes.

Do I mix business with pleasure? No.

Do I keep it professional and keep my messy personal life out of the workplace? Hell yes.

Does she know how to have a good time? No.

Because she often ruins a good time by getting all emotional over perceived slights and having a super thin skin since she hinges her personal validation on the opinion of others. And sadly, some of the female employees with the biggest mouths do not respect her for this reason. Complaints get heard by everyone. Even managers are just people and can be influenced by general opinions.

Does she mix business with pleasure? All the time.

Unwisely. It is common knowledge that she had sex with another co-worker, while actively being in a common law arrangement with her current man. I hope to God he never finds out because I see in him the potential to go ape shit about it. She acts like no one knows but it’s basic knowledge. And that coworker may not be the only one.

Does she keep it professional? Sometimes, but not as often as she needs to. She doesn’t know how to read a room, and often makes inappropriate comments about her leadership in front of them around other coworkers. It comes across as immature. Her personal messy life is the core of who she is at work. Everybody knows her business.

Knowledge is power. It can also be used against you. If people are concerned that your weak sexual fortitude could be compromised in a work environment, who is going to promote your job growth? No one in their right mind, that’s who.

Can you train sexual fortitude?

I’ve been trying to train her, maybe influence her a little to keep it in her pants at work. I mean fuck around all you want out of work, but don’t fuck the people you work with. As a woman, hell, as a person, you gotta draw the line somewhere.

I get it. Statistically speaking you’re going to spend most of your time at work, and many people get involved with someone they see everyday, hence a coworker. But be DISCREET.

She is not discreet. Hence, the messy personal life and the lack of maturity when it comes to behaving in a work environment around people you are friendly with, but who are also in leadership positions.

That is the down side of being an overly sexual person. You gotta know how to navigate that line and it can be difficult. Perhaps I have wandered over to the other extreme away from sex, but it’s not just a professional choice. It’s very personal.

Avoidance as a strategy

I am really good at compartmentalizing. A little too good. Sometimes I lock that compartment and lose the key. Because I’m also really good at avoiding things rather than deal with them.

Can’t deal with my wreck of a marriage? Throw myself into volunteering and pretend there is nothing wrong.

Can’t handle the fallout from the divorce? Throw myself into school and work without an actual plan. Give give give to everything and everyone else and ignore myself at the cost of my health and personal well being.

Can’t deal with my personal life? With being a potential empty nester and the evolution of my life chapter as a mother? Find a job 30 min from home and spend most of my time working too much and commuting.

Avoiding sex? An expert. I could teach a masterclass on it. It’s all a matter of being in your own way. Perfecting the self-cockblock. It’s very freeing to release oneself the potential of a hookup. If you aren’t going to hit a win, what does it matter if you strike out? You’re now free to interact with everyone with the knowledge that there is nothing there.

Remove sex from the equation = freedom

Taking sex of the table has freed me to heal to a degree and focus on myself and my issues. Before there was so much pressure to either live up or not live up to the accusations that the ex threw at me all the time when things got rough:

He argued that he was the only man who would ever be willing to put up with me. Was it true? If I didn’t find another man, was he right? If I tried again and they cheated or didn’t love me, did that make him right?

He would tell me that I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I wanted to be alone like my mother. And that was why it was difficult being with me. Was he right? He forgets that my mother had relationships after my dad. Long ones. That she went on dates.

She tried again, and again. I think she gave up because secretly she is hung up on my dad. She can claim she isn’t, but I know what waiting looks like. She’s standing her post. I think she’d take him back.

But that’s not me. And I know the ex was gaslighting me, manipulating me emotionally.

I don’t want him back. We are oil and water. I also don’t have it in me to try again. That marriage burned me. I’m stubborn enough that I could have kept going in the same relationship had it never devolved to divorce. Tenacity, perseverance, persistence? Those I can do.

If he had been willing to try, I would have found something to be happy about and moved forward. Remember? Compartmentalization expert here. I’d have made it work.

I can’t see myself starting over from scratch with another person. Could I? Probably. I have those aforementioned determined personality traits that would be helpful. But sex is scary now and no relationship is going to be asexual, unless that is the spectrum of the other party.

My mind, not just my body

If I could find a guy that likes me for my mind equally as much as the guys who liked me because they got some, then I might be okay. But it hasn’t been my experience that I find someone who is into both. It’s often either or.

I mean, I kinda did at one point. There was this one guy back in Virginia, but he had his own baggage and I’m self aware enough to know I’m too greedy to want someone’s attention all for myself. So I wasn’t willing to try. But it was thrilling to know I was wanted that much.

Truth is stranger than fiction

The sex I do remember from my sordid past, I have fond memories of. It would be weird to share those stories though because they sound made up. They exist in a strange context that would make them look at me different. Especially in contrast to the person they have come to know who is bookish, opinionated, and overly obsessed with playing Animal Crossing. But it’s all true. I did that shit cause the old me was crazy cray.