“I don’t really have a huge sex drive”
The words sputtered out of my mouth like a confession at a twelve step meeting.
I was chatting with my friend Claus. We had been talking about his own recently rediscovered libido and how he now has lots and lots of sex. I was struggling to relate.
I thought about my words for a moment.
“Actually, I’d like to modify that statement.” I said, “I’m a very sexual being. It’s just that I’m the most skilled person at satisfying my own sexual needs. So I don’t really have a huge need to include anyone else in that. If and when I do, I need to really really enjoy their company, and conversation, and all the other parts of who they are.”
Wow! Epiphany! Some stuff I had been dancing around for a while shifted into clarity in that moment: I am ecstatic at being singleish, primarily because I’m the best fulfiller of my physical desires.
I have been spending a bit more solo time lately. My roommate has been away, I’ve had the place to myself. I’ve been enjoying sunny walks in the park and sitting in the living room with my laptop in the evening, lime and spearmint in my aromatherapy diffuser, typing up emails, catching up on life, spending time with, well, with Me.
It’s been good. I’ve seen Loki a couple of times, Orion has been over to share mango pudding with me, but I haven’t had a sexual experience with someone else since, hrm, early April?
When it comes to having sex with other people, I’m really like a camel. I drink up lots in one go, till I am thoroughly quenched (or drenched, as the case may be) so that I can go months without. Oh, and I like a variety of watering holes. Yeah, that too.
In the meantime, I am incredibly capable of keeping myself hydrated.
And honestly, that’s fine! Because I have been having some amazing, devastatingly profound orgasms, all by myself. Squealing, body shaking, earthquake and tsunami orgasms. Orgasms so powerful that, as I feel the explosion of wetness between my thighs, my spine expands and the vertebrae pop into alignment, just before I collapse back onto my bed and pillows, giggling gleefully. I roll over, check facebook, and then start again.
I wonder sometimes if I’m some strange breed of narcissist. I have been buying new clothes along a set color scheme, creating my own personal motif. In my professional life, I am slowly building myself up as the brand-of-me. People come to me because of my uniqueness, because I am the only person who can offer this exact package of awesome. It’s all about me. I mean- look at me! I’m writing a blog about myself!!!
There’s a retail job I do part time. I am grossly overqualified to be a part time sales associate, but that’s another story. Anyway, with my recent exhaustion, my performance has been noticeably down, and the manager confronted me recently with, “This job doesn’t seem like your top priority”. Um, no, I thought very loudly, ME, I’m my priority. I had to bite my tongue and hold back from launching into an ideological exposition on what it means to be in a primary relationship with one’s self. It did highlight for me that this ‘being in a relationship with myself’ thing is apparent in more than just my love life: the rest of my life is following suit, and I am realigning my work priorities to allow for more focus on me.
I bought myself flowers tonight. In true narcissist fashion, they match my current color scheme: fuchsia and white. I like buying flowers for myself. One of those little self-loving rituals that helps remind me where I need to go when I come home at the end of the day: back into the self-loving space. It doesn’t really matter to me when I will have sex with someone else again- and there’s no shortage of, erm, offers, so I know it will happen, when it feels right! When it does, oh I am damn sure it will be fun. But, there’s no rush. No urgency. I am perfectly capable with, well, just me!
And that thought in itself is liberating- not being tied to any particular expectations, not being led by any insatiable hunger, the kind that could have me settling for a crappy fast food meal (or worse, a life time supply of it!) when what I’m really craving is gourmet, free range, local, organic…. just, free to experience the full spectrum of my life without getting overly obsessed over sex, or over other people.
This, to me, is sexual liberation.
Actually, it might be more than just sexual liberation. It might be the beginnings of a total Life liberation.
