Why I’m happy to be celibate

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Why I’m happy to be celibate

February 16, 2011 by Hazel Katherine Larkin

I love sex. And I love lots of sex – morning, noon and night.

And this is precisely why I haven’t had it in years.

I haven’t taken a vow of celibacy, and I’m clearly not saving it for marriage (I’ve already been married – and divorced – twice, so that ship has sailed). I’ve been on my own – yes, I do mean in the ‘Biblical sense’ – for seven and a half years. Simply because I’ve decided that, outside of a relationship, I’m not interested in having sex.

The reason is simple – I love great sex, and I can only have that if I’ve arrived at a level of intimacy with the other person. Intimacy is what makes good sex great. If food is analogous to sex, then I prefer proper, healthy, gourmet meals to fast food. One night stands and other forms of ‘casual sex’ are sexual fast food meals – they fill a certain purpose, but the effect wears off really quickly. Then I’m left feeling very empty. Intimate sex is a gourmet meal – satisfying, fulfilling on more than one level, really enjoyable and best shared with someone who appreciates fine dining. Maybe I’m alone in this (though I doubt it), but I never fancy fast food, and I never fancy a quick fumble with a stranger or acquaintance, either.

Intimacy is arrived at when you spend quality time with the other person, when you feel you know them – and they know you. Intimacy is feeling safe and vulnerable with a person. It’s being open and honest with the other person about who you are, knowing that they are doing the same. That, sadly, cannot be achieved in the course of an evening – or even several evenings. Intimacy is both an investment and the return on that investment.

Interestingly, while I get very crabby when I’m in a relationship and not getting any sex, I find that I’ve become used to living without it. A bit like giving up sugar in your tea for Lent – I loved it when I had it, and giving it up was hard, but now that it’s been given up, I’m happy enough without it.

Occasionally, when talking to friends, I am grateful that I don’t have to negotiate bedroom etiquette: Who sleeps on which side of the bed; who sleeps in the wet patch; who puts on the condom; worrying about unwanted pregnancies; worrying about STDs; worrying because you haven’t managed to make it for a wax this week etc. etc. etc.

More seriously, I don’t need to be concerned with a man having a ‘sleep-over’ and being gone before my kids are up.

I miss sex, but I’d rather do without it altogether than have unfulfilling sex with people I hardly know. Maybe if I’m still a born again virgin in another year or two I might revise that statement; but for now, I’m happy enough to wait.

Posted in Personal, Relationships, Sex | 26 Comments

26 Responses

on February 16, 2011 at 9:06 am | Reply Anna

I’ve been a chastitute for over two years now, for similar reasons. I LOVE sex, but its just not the same with a stranger. Although I’m all for short term relationships, there has to be rapport, and that’s rare.
Its good to know I’m not alone, thanks.
- on February 16, 2011 at 9:32 am | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Hi Anna!
  
  ‘Chastitute’ is a brilliant word! Thank you so much for adding it to my vocabulary. I’m glad you enjoyed the post.
  
  HK
on February 16, 2011 at 9:48 am | Reply dijeratic

Found this post through Twitter and had to follow – I’ve been ‘chaste’ as it were for about as long as yourself. I came out of a (very) bad relationship and found, not long after, that I really didn’t have any sort of desire. Since then, I’ve not been able to recover it.

I know it is likely psychological or some such, but I don’t feel any great need to explore the loss too deeply. Like you, I’d rather not jump into empty adventures with half-strangers just for the romp, I’d like to think that, someday, hopefully, I will meet that certain someone and things will click and intimacy will follow. But if not, I do feel fine without it.

The only snag is having friends or family who make a thing of it, think something is terribly wrong and try to either find someone for you (ugh!) or give you irrelevant advice. Do you have that issue as well?

Enjoyed your post – quite a breath of fresh air.
- on February 16, 2011 at 10:49 am | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Hi DJ!
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read an comment on my post.
  
  I’m lucky that I don’t have anyone trying to foist suitable men on me – I think they’ve given up! Also, I have two young daughters and I would not be comfortable with parading a selection of men through the house just so I could have my jollies! I’d like my children to learn that their sexuality is a gift, and they need to value it and be choosy who they share it with. What better way to teach that than to model it?
  
  Thanks for helping me realise I’m not the only chaste thirty-something out there!
  
  HK
on February 16, 2011 at 10:35 am | Reply Clare - An American in Ireland

I agree, I think with very few exceptions, great, fulfilling sex can only be achieved when there’s emotional intimacy involved.

I’ve always found it jarring when sitcom characters speak of “dry spells” of “three months” or somesuch nonsense. Is everyone having THAT much regular sex that 3 months is considered a dry spell? If that’s the case, there have been portions of my life spent exiled in the Sahara desert.
- on February 16, 2011 at 11:13 am | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Hi Clare
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on this post – I appreciate it.
  
  Your comment about the Sahara made me giggle.
  
  HK
- on February 16, 2011 at 12:30 pm | Reply Anna Carey
  
  Wasn’t there a ridiculous film in which Josh Hartnett had to face the huge challenge of not having sex for (gasp) a month? I’m pretty sure the vast majority of people who aren’t in a relationship (and quite a few who are) have managed that huge task without even thinking about it…
  - on February 16, 2011 at 1:55 pm Rosemary
    
    Anna, the film was called 40 Days and 40 Nights – and not only did poor Josh have to go without sex, he couldn’t ejaculate at all, poor lamb! He near exploded at the end when he was finally let loose!
  - on February 16, 2011 at 9:00 pm Anna
    
    It was an awful film which actually had male rape scene that no-one was outraged over.
on February 16, 2011 at 10:49 am | Reply Joanna Schaff

Your comparing of one night stands to fast food reminded me of an essay by Tom Robbins, which is published in his collection of short works; Wild Ducks Flying Backwards. He espouses the same idea and when I first read the essay it really resonated with me.

I feel incredibly lucky that I am currently in a relationship where sex is always a gourmet meal but if I was not, I too would be happier to go without than indulge in empty calories.
- on February 16, 2011 at 10:53 am | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Hi Joanna
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on this post.
  
  I haven’t read Wild Ducks Flying Backwards, but I feel the need to hie me to The Book Depositary and order a copy.
  
  You are lucky to be in a relationship that incorporates fulfilling sex – and so is your partner! May it always be so.
  
  HK
on February 16, 2011 at 10:53 am | Reply Jeff

Considering that sex is a pleasurable release (the result of a reflex action) and that it is 90% controlled by the brain, I think a visit to your analyst is in order. On your journey home drop in to Anne Summers and lighten up. I think you may be out on your own in this one.
- on February 17, 2011 at 2:39 pm | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Thanks for your thoughtful response, Jeff. I’ll be sure to do exactly what you suggest.
  
  Like you say, sex is controlled by the brain. My biggest sex organ is between my ears and I like to have it stimulated before being expected to perform sex acts. That takes time, effort and finesse.
  
  HK
on February 16, 2011 at 11:24 am | Reply Elizabeth Bennett

When I saw the title of this post in my inbox this morning I just had to read it. “Is there someone else just like me?” I thought to myself. Not quite. At the age of 28 I am still a virgin. My friends know, my sister knows, at this stage, I’m sure my parents have worked it out.

Unlike some of my acquaintances (I saw acquaintances because real friends don’t care), I do not see the problem with this. I’m a woman and yes, I have needs, but I don’t see how a quick roll in the hay is going to satisfy them.

There was one boyfriend with whom I thought I would sleep with but it never happened and in hindsight I am so thankful for that. I now know that waiting that little bit longer to meet someone with whom I will be intimate, on an emotional level as well as a physical, will be so worth it. I just wish that society, and acquaintances, didn’t put so much pressure on people like me.

Thank you for writing this blog, it is reassuring to know that there are like minded people out there and that a meaningless quickie in a nightclud toilet is not what makes for a great night out.
- on February 16, 2011 at 7:19 pm | Reply hick
  
  I’m a 26 year old virgin and am looking forward to eventually getting my rocks off with a deserving and excellent gent.
  
  Personally, I think that we’re all wired differently when it comes to sex. I made a deliberate descision not to have casual sex and have never regretted it but I appreciate that what is right for me may not necessarily be right for someone else.
  
  I do feel that not having sex is now the ultimate sexual taboo and it is refreshing to read such honest and positive responses to the question of celibacy .
  People should not be defined or judged by how much or how little sex that they have. Everyone is on their own trajectory and will all reach their climax (please God!)in the end.
  - on February 17, 2011 at 2:28 pm Hazel Katherine Larkin
    
    Hello Hick!
    
    Good for you to be clear about what you want and being focused enough to wait until you find it.
    
    I agree with you that we are wired differently with regard to many things – sex among them. As I have said in response to another comment, what two, or more, consenting adults do in private is none of my business. Unless, of course, I happen to be one of them.
    
    I hope you find a deserving and wonderful gentleman who will appreciate and respect your stance on the matter.
    
    HK
on February 16, 2011 at 2:13 pm | Reply Mary

One night stands and other forms of ‘casual sex’ are sexual fast food meals – they fill a certain purpose, but the effect wears off really quickly. Then you’re left feeling very empty.

It can be, and it’s fine if you feel that’s true for you, but don’t forget it doesn’t have to be that for everyone. There’s nothing wrong with casual sex either if that’s what works for you. You don’t have to have a value system where casual sex is equated with something “bad for you” to justify your decision not to have it.
- on February 17, 2011 at 2:35 pm | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  You’re absolutely right, Mary. I made a mistake of using ‘you’ when I meant ‘I’. The opposite of the Royal ‘we’, perhaps??
  
  In any event, I have rectified the original post now to lessen confusion.
  
  There is absolutely nothing wrong with casual sex – Lord knows I’ve had more than my fair share! – but I think for me it was lacking and could only, at best, be ‘good’. This is a piece written from a personal perspective, it’s not a prescriptive piece, trying to tell the rest of the world what they ‘should’ do.
  
  I didn’t feel I needed to ‘justify’ my decision to go without sex, nor did I think that’s what I was doing. I was merely opening the discussion by offering an insight into my own situation.
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.
  
  HK
on February 16, 2011 at 4:35 pm | Reply June Caldwell

Is sex all that big a deal anyhow? I know men can’t leave their mickeys alone for any length of time but a lot of my wimmin friends can do without if the mood or the person isn’t right. Sex is emotion, innit, or at least at its best when there is? I could easily go without and not even think of it. But I fear Hazel is just too full of life for this ‘chastitute’ malarkey to last forever and she’s bound to redress the balance with a mega humpout. A friend of mine who initiated a summer of sex many moons ago said at the end of it all: “I feel like a sewer for men’s overflows.’ I thought that was one of the most powerful [and sad] lines I’ve ever heard about casual sex. I’m not all that into moderation, but maybe when it comes to sex, it could be key.
- on February 17, 2011 at 2:31 pm | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Wow, June! That is a very powerful line.
  
  I think sex is a big deal – when I’m in a relationship. I get very grumpy if I feel my OH is denying me consort! (But you know that, you’re reading the book, right?!)
  
  I look forward to the humpout you predict.
  
  HK
on February 16, 2011 at 11:29 pm | Reply Philip

Like Mary I’d like to challenge your assumptions about casual sex. Calling it “a quick fumble” and “unfulfilling” while comparing it to fast food is all very well, rhetorically, except that none of these apply when the sex is good and casual partners connect profoundly. You know, like having a “gourmet meal” just because you feel like it, at an amazing restaurant down a hitherto undiscovered laneway, with someone you’ve just met, who’s grandmother runs the place.
- on February 17, 2011 at 2:25 pm | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Hi Philip!
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on my blog post. If you notice, the title is ‘Why I’m Happy to be Celibate’ not ‘Why casual sex is disgusting and should be outlawed’ or ‘Everyone should keep their knickers on’! I’m not making assumptions about casual sex. I’m speaking from experience. My own and that of other people I’ve spoken to about the matter. Mainly my own, though.
  
  The point I was making was that, in my experience, the kind of connection that for me makes good sex great is impossible to find with casual partners. This post is a reflective, not a prescriptive one. If other people have more satisfying sex with strangers than I’ve managed to have, I am happy for them. And maybe even a tad envious. What two or more consenting adults do in private is neither my concern nor my business and I would never think it my place to comment.
  
  I really enjoyed your description of the amazing restaurant, though.
  
  HK
on February 17, 2011 at 6:21 am | Reply Wendy Lyon

I love great sex, and you can only have that if you’ve arrived at a level of intimacy with the other person

I stopped reading at the “you”. What on earth makes some people think they can speak for everyone else on a matter as personal and individual as sexuality?
- on February 17, 2011 at 2:12 pm | Reply Hazel Katherine Larkin
  
  Hi Wendy
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on my blog post. Thanks, too, for pointing out my error. Of course, you’re right, I can – and do – only speak for myself. I tend to write as I speak and, often, in speeck, use ‘you’ when of course I mean ‘I’. I will go and amend my post to reflect my actual position (no pun intended!) on the issue.
  
  Thanks again for picking up my error and bringing it to my awareness.
  
  HK
on February 17, 2011 at 10:10 am | Reply Solitary* « MySmallPlace's Weblog

[...] found this post – though it deals with a more physical and slightly different aspect of being on [...]
on February 17, 2011 at 6:50 pm | Reply Anselm

Sex is all about lightening up, releasing tension and simply enjoying the pleasure afforded by one’s body. Nothing kills the enjoyment of sex like being overly analytical (“Are we really intimate? Should I really be enjoying this? Should I wait till we are really really really intimate? Am I setting the right example for my kids by having sex tonight?”).

The writer of this piece obviously needs to lighten up.

No wonder she isn’t having much (or any) sex.

Speaking for myself – I’ve met many women who say they “love lots of sex” but have a complete inability to lighten up and enjoy the moment. Needless to say, though many of them were very attractive, they were usually pretty awful bed partners.

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