A reflection on 3 months of intentional celibacy.
People have never been the best at keeping new year’s resolutions, have they? Every year, I have the same goals which I conveniently forget by the time uni kicks into gear. This year, though, I thought I’d set myself a real challenge: go without sex for a whole year. Well, it sounds easier than it was. I quickly downgraded that to 3 months (out of pure boredom if nothing else). In that time though, there was a lot to think about… Only, most of that thinking started in my pants before it made it to my brain. Incels beware, this article may make you confused but yes, some people have no problems getting laid.
Undeniably, the first thing I noticed was that I got horny…a lot. Maybe it was the still balancing hormones left over from a late puberty or even the somewhat kinky art of self restraint, but the goal of simply not making any moves on anybody at any time was a big challenge which I did not achieve. I realised that I was extremely bored without the delicate performance of the human mating ritual and I found myself doing anything to get my fix of the sexual chase. Before my celibacy, I used the subtle art of flirting with everything I could as a form of passive entertainment. There is something so intimate about flirting with a tree, you should try it out (it’s not weird, just trust me). Suddenly, I had to have ‘hobbies’, which is a tough realisation to have before even starting your twenties. I used all my newly discovered free time to engage in my new hobby, getting unbelievably worked up about everything—which brings me to my next point.
I was extremely emotional! There is definitely something to be said about sex as a stress relief, even when unsolicited messages from DomDaddy69 make you feel everything but calm. If there ever was something that mildly crazy TikToker, Dr Tara, was right about, it’s that even casual and simple sexual interactions can be great for the mind. There is a surprisingly large amount of scientific research which suggests healthy lives require a healthy sexual component. Oh, and she was right that you should go down on your partner. Eat Her Out in 2023! But back to me, I found that solo pleasure was good at regulating the mood, but didn’t quite replicate the release of actual sex. All of you right hand warriors will understand. The lasting oxytocin rush when you are with another person (or two or three others, the more the merrier, right?) was something I noticed when I no longer had it. It was a welcome and refreshing feeling when I finally did end the abstinence.
Finally, I did notice that the art of sex was way more exciting when I did return. As they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder and probably quite a bit harder. The excitement of discovery with your partner is immense, and seeing someone naked never fails to be a little shocking. It’s the one thing your imagination can never quite get right. I did need to remember, though, that while getting your rocks off is amazing, it is important to maintain balance across all forms of pleasure (social, sexual, or otherwise). That was something I could only realise in the not so hard way, if you catch my drift. I don’t plan on going fully and intentionally celibate again anytime soon, it’s something which I can hold in my back pocket for a time I may need to remind myself of this lesson.
Ultimately, any and all sex you’re having should be fulfilling, mutually beneficial, and honestly exciting. Sex for the sake of it probably isn’t all it cracks up to be, but remember that sex also doesn’t have to be a massive, life altering deal. It can be as casual and lighthearted or intimate and serious as you’d like. The real takeaway is that you should own your body, do what makes you happy, and surround yourself with people who will eat you out. I mean, treat you to takeout! Filthy animals!
- Eat Her Out 2023