After a breakup, it’s normal not to want sex for a while. When it happened to me, I hardly had any emotions left, let alone the desire to be with another man. It was okay not getting laid until I finally got over my ex, looked around, and realized I had no other prospects. Now it’s been so long I’ve started to think some borderline crazy thoughts:
I forgot how to do it.
Okay, obviously not how to do it altogether, but how to be good at it! I’ve officially lost my mojo. What if I finally get to that place with a guy again and I’m so out of practice that I’m really bad in bed? I used to pride myself on my sexual skills, but I’m not so sure I have them anymore.
I’ll be super awkward when I do it again.
I’m terrified I’ll make it weird. I won’t remember how to kiss. I’ll be clumsy and accidentally elbow him in the face or something. I’ll scrape him with my teeth because I’m nervous. I’ll try some acrobatic move that ends up throwing out my back. The horrific possibilities are endless when I think about it.
Maybe I’ll never have sex again at all.
When I’m extremely lonely, the thought definitely crosses my mind. I mean, I spend pretty much every night working or sitting on the couch alone with my cat. I’m not exactly meeting a ton of men who are clamoring to sleep with me. I’m not meeting men, period. If I keep on this way, it’s quite likely I’ll never get laid again.
I should lower my standards.
If I’m not having sex — and I’m definitely not — I start thinking that maybe it’s my fault. I’m being too picky. I’m asking too much of a potential sex partner. After all, I’m not looking to marry the guy. I just want to have fun, responsible adult sex with someone I can trust. But I guess that alone is a pretty tall order.
I need to get out more — immediately.
My homebody lifestyle works out just fine when I’m happily single or in a relationship. When I feel starved for sex, however, I start panicking. Suddenly I need to get out as much as I can, wherever I can possibly meet anyone, and I get frustrated when no one wants to go with me at a moment’s notice. It’s totally unfair, but I can’t help it.
I’m not attractive anymore.
After extended periods of time pass during which men completely ignore me as a sexual being, I begin worrying that I’ve completely lost my appeal. I feel old, decrepit and washed up. Never mind that I’m in early thirties and far from a hideous mess! I literally feel like I’m invisible to the opposite sex, and I don’t know what to do.
I won’t want to get naked with anyone.
I’m arguably in better shape when I’m single than when I have a boyfriend, but that doesn’t lessen my anxiety about the idea of being nude with a new person. It’s always weird, and the longer I go without doing so, the scarier it sounds. I get paranoid that the fear of being physically vulnerable will keep me from doing it at all.
I should throw caution to the wind.
I’ve never been the type to make impulsive sexual decisions, but my accidental abstinence inspires rashness. I don’t act on it, but I often think that I should just take the next halfway attractive guy who hits on me at the bar and do him in the bathroom or something. Life is short, right? Luckily my deep-seated fear of STDs and pregnancy usually stops me from doing so.
I’m almost asexual at this point.
I forget what it’s like to feel like a sexual, desirable woman. I most often dress for utility now, wearing a lot of comfy jeans, yoga pants, and sweatshirts. I hardly wear makeup. I know I don’t have to doll up to feel like a woman, but the sad reality is that men don’t pay attention to me otherwise. I know I’m still a cute girl, but it makes me feel like I have no natural sex appeal.
I’ll end up in a bad situation.
My biggest fear is that I’ll do what I always do: get so impatient to have sex that I’ll start dating someone who isn’t right for me. I’m more comfortable sleeping with a guy if we’re in a relationship, so I often rush into one instead of just going out and getting laid. This doesn’t do me any favors! I know that I do this, and I’m trying desperately to stop, but I feel the urge to get a guy creep in aggressively the longer I’m celibate.
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