22 Lessons My 6-Month-Long, Self-Imposed Dry Spell Taught Me
I’ve been single for quite some time now, and I’ve learned a lot. When you’re a single girl, you are likely to rack up a certain number of sexual partners. The thing is, this number can get to be pretty… up there.
Now, don’t get me wrong; I love sex just as much as the next person. It’s one of the very few things in life that, unlike artificial sweeteners, enhances the quality of your life completely au naturel.
But, drunken one-night stands began to get old and my friend-with-benefits eventually got sick of me. So, in an attempt to keep my “number” stagnant for awhile, I designed a six-month-long abstinence experiment.
These six months were interesting, to say the least. Behold, the 22 things I realized during my half-year-long dry spell:
1. There are only a handful of worthy substitutes for sex.
Chocolate — and I mean quality chocolate, like Scharffen Berger, not Kit Kat — is one of those substitutes.
2. Alcohol, on the other hand, is not a worthy substitute.
In fact, it’s just the opposite. I found that I became horny after even one glass of wine and inferred from this that my body associates being drunk with having sex, as a conditioned response.
3. All of a sudden, I became one of those annoying gym rats.
It turns out that exercise is also a great stress-reliever. Who knew?
4. Regardless, I gained a couple of pounds.
I felt there to be little to no point to strive to look good naked. My love for gluttonous foods outweighed my love for five-pound dumbbells.
5. Couples are annoying.
6. PDA sucks.
Seriously, can’t you wait until you get home to make out? Does the quality of my subway commute have to suffer?
7. Eh, one month of NO sex isn’t so bad.
8. Three months of no sex is painful.
I craved it so badly that I seriously considered abandoning my “No Sex-periment.”
9. By five months, abstinence is numbing.
You completely forget what it even feels like to have a sausage stuck in your omelette.
10. I began to wonder how the f*ck Taylor Swift does this.
11. (Maybe she secretly goes home with a different guy every night, and is really good at hiding the evidence…)
12. My right hand became my new best friend.
13. No, seriously.
Ladies, if you don’t please yourself, please start. I re-discovered so much about my body.
14. I developed a post-night-out routine.
And, I kept it ready for the nights I went out with girlfriends that ended with boyfriends or booty calls. Knowing I’d be tempted to go home with someone, too, this routine kept me from slipping.
Foolproof routine: laptop setup on the bed with Netflix already open, next to a bowl of chocolate and a couple of loose dollars in my back pocket set aside for drunk pizza.
15. Just kissing, though innocent, is still fun.
16. My music taste changed.
You choose to listen to Mumford and Sons instead of Robyn because they’re the least sexual band you can think of.
17. You begin to hone in on your creativity.
I let out my frustration by writing songs, cutting my hair and making small changes to my fashion sense. After all, you can’t let that frustration bubble up inside of you.
18. But, you also snap at coworkers.
A lot. (“Sheena, can I borrow your pen?” “GET YOUR OWN!” *violently throws pen across room*)
19. …And family members.
20. …And girlfriends.
Especially those who are getting laid and teasing you by texting their boy toys in front of you and then asking if what they just texted qualifies as dirty talk.
21. Regular chocolate ice cream doesn’t do it anymore.
You need that flavor — the one with rocky road and s’mores and cookie dough bites and peanut butter chunks all in one. You need that.
Oh, thank God, six months is up. Sex. Is. Great.
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