Common Misconceptions About Celibacy

P.S. I Haven’t Had Sex in One Year

I recently had a suitor who suggested we just be friends after I stated my intentions and non-negotiables. In one of several looping monologues, he said, “It’s better this way because we would have had sex, you’d have fallen in love with me and then one day I’d go MIA.”

Had I not been exhausted from my day, I would have gladly tackled his bumptious neck back, but instead, I nodded, said “I understand,” and watched him gloat over whatever superpower other women had given him. Little did he know that I haven’t had sex in more than one year, and he wasn’t the lucky holder of the golden ticket to my chocolate factory.

The last time I did backflips on a penis (I’m pretty good BTW) was in the drunken wee hours of January 1, 2020. Sometimes I’m in disbelief that it has been this long, because my celibacy reasons weren’t initially intentional.

You see, my decision to “lock shop” came after an intense casual sexual relationship left me emotionally disrupted. I had become devastatingly au fait with the spiritual ramifications of joining with another body, and wanted to heal from the inside-out. I never assigned a time frame for this healing, et voilà, 12 months have passed where I’ve identified and defined my intentions, and refined my perspective of sex and future involvement in it.

Should I be honest, I did have some help in prolonging my celibacy. I had abnormal uterine bleeding for most of the year which served as a hindrance to bussing it open or riding anyone’s face.

But this isn’t my first waltz with the big “C”. There have been periods in my life where I have gone without sex for several months and years. This bout, however, is different because it came at a point in my life when I started loving sex and was excited about my sex life.

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My prior celibacy and dry spell experiences bear narratives of a girl who deemed sex a chore, an obligatory function of the girlfriend and woman, torture even. So to be stopped in my karma sutra ventures when it just got good was a major blow, but the disruption was critical and surely appreciated in the long-run.

In light of my celiba-sary, I’d like to address some common misconceptions I’ve encountered as part of the abstinent lifestyle.

Apparently, if you’re celibate, you:

  1. Don’t desire sex — This is a major one. Somehow, not having sex eradicates all feelings of arousal.

Some men have often described me as extraterrestrial because I haven’t had sex for some time, but Earth to all ding-a-lingers, I do get horny. In fact, there’s not a day when I don’t feel aroused or picture myself being bent over something. But there’s desire, then there’s discipline. I am clear about my reasons for abstaining, which supersede my pussy tingles.

2. Are waiting for marriage - This is an antiquated tenet that doesn’t apply to every celibate person. Indeed, some people abstain for religious reasons, but others may choose to do so because they’re asexual, wish to focus on other things, heal from a breakup, et cetera.

3. Have a negative perception of sex or bad sexual experiences - This is understandable as bad experiences often inspire a change in mindset or lifestyle.

In my case, I didn’t hold a negative view of sex. I thought, and still think, sex is a beautiful and fun experience. I do, however, believe it is also a powerfully-binding exchange which can leave a negative effect on someone who underestimates its bind and significance. This engenders the negative perception, but dare I suggest scrutiny of the relationship within which the sexual exchange occurs, and not the act itself.

4. Scorn the sexually-active - It is I, Sade Gardner the Great, sitting on my heavenly, revirginised throne, watching in disgust at those who roll in the hay. Puhleez! Get your freak on (responsibly). Again, sex is a wonderful exchange. My views on how I want to participate ought not to interfere with yours or anyone else’s. Live your life boo.

5. Masterbate - Guilty! I’m a celibate Puritan frontstage, and a serial flapper backstage. Seriously though, I tried touching myself twice; laughed throughout my first attempt, got bored during my second attempt (also laughed). Masterbating isn’t something that delights me but I have no qualms with folks who indulge. Again, my choices are mine, yours are yours.

6. Have a defective vagina (cobwebs included) - I’m actually disappointed that we’ve perpetuated this misconception this long.

Your vajay-jay will not decay if you don’t have sex. It will still function. If you want to do your Kegel exercises, knock yourself out, but the vagina will still function despite a lack of sexual activity. I’m yet to see any Anansi or cobwebs residing in or outside my nana, we’re good over here!

I’m now in a space where I not only want to be intimate again, but I embrace the feeling. I’ll engage when it feels right to me and continue to welcome the lessons that accompany this commute. To the copulaters, happy grinding! To the celibate peeps, continue to do what feels right to you.

Bald-headed, freelance entertainment writer. Pro at burning eggs.