20 Things I've Learned: Reflecting On Two Years Of Celibacy

It has officially been two years since I have had sex and one year since I’ve experienced physical touch and even being kissed. My bed has been empty with the exception of me and my decisions. How do I feel about this? Well, honestly, some days I feel totally fine. Like a super sexy, energetic, gracefully graying woman who can now stand on her head. And, then, some days I feel as though I’m being tortured by God himself for my past transgressions. Like a semi-chubby yogi who is trying her best to fit in at class, but who constantly makes a spectacle by falling down. Celibacy has been a mixed bag of emotions and a desire to sometimes fall back into past habits while all along knowing that I am making the right choice because I don’t feel nearly as shitty as I used to on Saturday mornings. In fact, on Saturday mornings I feel excited and no longer worried. There are no more thoughts of, “Will he call?” or “Maybe I shouldn’t have?” I often think about my past habits when it comes to sex and validation, but I’ve worked on forgiving myself for the choices I made from a place of low self-esteem and a desire for simple, silly, unrealistic, romantic comedy romance. You know, those romantic comedies where the woman BARELY speaks to the man but, somehow SHE REALLY LIKES HIM. So, she sleeps with him. Then, drama ensues. Finally, poof,  they end up together. Married. With kids. Not me. Alone and celibate in Mexico. 

In 2023 I had been celibate for a year, but I didn’t think much of it because I was still dating. In June of 2023 I started “dating” a 30 year old who came on strong by bringing me flowers for my birthday and left lines of poetry in my notebook. We met at the juice shop where I teach weekly English classes and flowers led to my reluctant yes for a breakfast date. We held hands, I rode on his motorcycle (his actual motorcycle), we made out like teenagers and he said he wanted to go on adventures with me. He read me his diary and then, one day an American woman saw us together in the juice shop, looking cozy, and she boldly asked us, “What are you two anyway? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” And he replied “No, we’re dating.” A few days later, I had lunch with him and one of his friends in the juice shop. A friend he often asked for help with his English when we were talking. The following week he came to me and said “I want a relationship with you, without commitment.” There was no more hand holding or motorcycle rides, I knew just sex wouldn’t do it for me anymore. 

Before that I met a handsome man on the street. He was walking his two dogs when we first crossed paths and about 20 minutes later, there he was walking behind me. He crossed the street behind me and as I walked into the park, he followed with the two dogs. He approached me and we walked side by side, asking for my phone number before I lied and said I had to get home. He texted two days later with emojis and asking me to go on another walk. I declined. It was hot. The asks continued and I said yes to a walk. We met in the park, in the same place we first met. The evening ended in me paying for my half of the tacos and kissing in front of my apartment. He asked to see me again. In our next exchange of text messages he asked me out and he told me “I want to get to know you before I leave to go to work in Europe.” And I said, “Ok, you’re leaving, but I’m not in a rush.” I knew that “I want to get to know you” was code for carnal knowledge only.  After we went out, and I paid for my 1 beer, he asked me to come back to his place. I politely declined and walked home alone at almost 1am. Moments after walking in my door, I received a text “My son is sleeping now if you want to come back here and hang out. He leaves for school in the morning.” How romantic, I could have snuck into his home and had sex while his son was sleeping, then I could have walked back home, alone, again, before his son woke up. His dreadlocks would never graze my shoulders in the moonlight. Admittedly, I still flirted and tried to come up with ways to meet that were non-sexual - in a hope to get some sort of satisfaction. I was still seeking attention. I was still holding hope.

But before that, I slept with someone I barely knew, but to whom I expressed to my friend “I think he is kind. He seems really kind.” We slept together twice, before things became instantly distant on his part and there was no avoiding one another. One night, after I declined an 11am proposition to come and hang out at his apartment, I received a missed drunk call along with a text message that read “I was just calling to tell you that you’re a good girl.” I decided that was the last time I would feel strange in a man’s presence, be asked for 11am sex or be called at 1am. And while my neighbor and I are now friendly, polite, even, saying hello in passing; I can’t regret or be ashamed of what happened. For a moment I genuinely thought he might like me, and by sleeping with him I was doing what I knew how to do. I was trying to connect, show what I could offer and be approved of. But now, I know better. In the past I would have picked up the drunk phone call and continued sleeping with him believing that he might, one day, change his mind about me.

I also would have gone to the guys house while the kid was sleeping and acted fine with being a woman someone did not want to commit to. I would have told myself “Just have fun, Tina. See where it goes. Stop taking everything so seriously” and then I would spiral into a dark depression of not being chosen, again, when there really was no chance of that happening to begin with. I continuously lied to myself to keep my hope alive. I lied to myself about what I wanted. Sure, I wanted to have fun, but I did not want to be a constant one night stand and collector of stories for my friends.

All three of the above men came on strong and suddenly, like tropical storms that wielded wild wind and sexy Spanish accents. I was swept in by the storm, my own wishes, hopes and naive beliefs. The men, nor I, would ever slow down and really get to know one another. We usually know what to expect and how we’re lying to ourselves, but we tell ourselves half truths and continue repeating cycles so that we don’t have to change.

Never, in my 22 years of dating did I ask myself “Tina, do you even like him? Tina, do you even know him?” it was always an inner dialogue that concluded in “Well, will he like me? What if he doesn’t like me? Or what if he’s disappointed in what I look like naked?” 22 years of dating and sex rooted in a want for approval and hope that it might work out. I have now resolved that until I feel a connection with someone, a connection that is based in mutual respect, I’m going to say no. It’s not where I want to put my energy right now. I’m also not sold on waiting until I fall in love, but no one will be given premium access to my secret garden unless I am sure they are at least a good human being. God help the next man who tries to get me in bed because he will have to do a lot more than say “You’re so sexy.” He will have to work for it and so will I. And I will also have the right to say no and to think “Tina, do you even like him?”

But along this two year ride of keeping my heart open, and my legs shut, here are 20 things I’ve learned

  1. Saying no to sex became increasingly easy the more I realized I no longer wanted to feel empty afterwards.

  2. #1 is now very easy because I’m not currently dating; sort of by choice and sort of because Oaxaca has limited Bumble options and I have not been on the prowl. 

  3. I have learned that having sex is quite easy, but getting to know someone and being vulnerable is hard. 

  4. Without fixating on dating, relationships, a quest for love or the age old quest to “get laid,” my life has become increasingly - well -  simple and quiet. Turns out I do drama-free living really well.

  5. As it turns out that I’m pretty boring when I’m sober (still funny) and, well, I’m also content with being on my own (and being sober, when I don’t feel like a cat in heat).

  6. Sure, I feel like a cat in heat, sometimes, but I’ll take that - any day - over the feelings of rejection or being ignored when walking into a room after having slept with someone.  

  7. A life full of sex does not equate to a life full of intimacy, which is what I’ve always wanted. A real conversation. A real moment that could be felt. 

  8. A life full of sex and many partners does not equate with good sex, which is what I’ve always wanted. Not just a romp, a pat on the butt, a goodbye, and a late night text two weeks later. 

  9. I respect myself more, now, than I ever have before. I no longer chase what is not meant for me and with this I have also upped the ante on my flower purchases.

  10. For most of my adult life used sex to validate my attractiveness and my body because I struggled with my relationship to my skin and its appearance for years. I gave her away in the hope that someone might show me affection and care, respect and love. But it turns out that I had to respect my body, her abilities, and her imperfect beauty and story, first. Now, I do, more than I ever have before. My body and I do not have a perfect relationship, but it is certainly better, tender and more loving. My heart and I are also much stronger for it.

  11. I no longer wish to chase anyone for approval or validation, because I approve of and validate myself. Finally. Thank you, 44.

  12. Sex can be a major distraction and without it, my world has opened up in new ways I could never imagine. 

  13. I know that sex is a distraction because I once called out of work to sleep with a man who was in an open relationship and waited up to the wee hours of the morning for the same man, time and time again, to only never be called. I was in a terrible place of seeking and in a state of constant emotional confusion. What I thought was fun, sex or classic dating - was really a distraction, terrible for my self-esteem, and quite toxic. But now that I’m living a life that I enjoy, it feels good to show up for my life and not avoid it with terrible habits that left me empty.

  14. Without sex, I have space. I am committed to a yoga practice and I have created deliberate time in my life to dedicate myself to learning. This fills up my heart, my soul and my life - much more than sex ever did or could. 

  15. My commitment to God, my faith, and living a spiritual life, not the life of a nun, but the life of someone who believes in more than human pleasure and desire - has been actualized. I am grateful to have found a steady belief in something and someone bigger than myself. My silly, approval seeking, sad, inner self has been forgiven. Now, I look forward to more.

  16. I have the mental space, time and the discipline to write without fielding the receipt of distracting text messages, emojis, dick pics, thoughts of what I will wear and whether or not he will like me when I’m naked. What a fucking relief.  

  17. Now I know what I do want. To be valued. To be respected. To share values. And, yes, intimacy and love. 

  18. I can very clearly see the past as a lesson, every single man I dated and or slept with. Every single sad text I sent, embarrassing and true, I am forgiven.

  19. I realize that I was never being rejected, but only protected to be here and now in my present life. Sure, sex free, but full of possibilities.

  20. Sex is natural, sex is good, not everybody does it, not everybody should. Sometimes we do need a break from the things we use, numb on or validate ourselves with so that we can have space to feel. And, yes, it’s scary stuff, but I can tell you that it has absolutely been worth it. No amount of sex could change the way I felt about myself and nothing can take away how I feel now. I know better, so there is no going back. It’s not even tempting so much as sacred to know that I’ve cut a damaging chord in my life. It’s not always going to feel great to be alone, bored, boring, or to not be touched - but it won’t last forever. Everything is temporary and I don’t feel like I’m sacrificing pleasure, I feel like I have saved myself.

tina corrado