My Accidentally Celibate Summer

1 SEPTEMBER 2024 EMMA COLANGELO

As the bar and our notably good first date drew to a close, we squeezed each other’s hands, walking with bubbling anticipation toward the best part of any great first date: the final kiss that determines if we are to part, or not to part, for the evening.

He pressed me firmly against the side of my Prius, his lips inching toward mine. Just before they touched, he paused, drawing my entire soul into his mouth with a deep breath. Then, with an unmistakably mischievous glimmer in his eye, he smoothly turned his face to my neck, gently biting the skin just above my collarbone.`

“Impressively hot,” I affirmed, my eyes rolling slowly back into my head.

This was the moment I could have pulled him into the back seat and gone to town on him right then and there. But I didn’t.

Intuitively, we both stepped back from the intensity of the moment and shared a knowing smile.

“I had an incredible night with you,” he beamed.

“Same. Text me when you’re home safely,” I said, giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek before getting into the car.

As I drove home I realized: I haven’t had sex all summer.

It wasn’t on purpose. I hadn’t honestly even clocked it before that moment, which felt strange given that discussing and thinking about sex is my job.

The realization of this unplanned celibacy made me reflect on what I’d unintentionally learned. At first, the idea of an extended period without sex seemed almost like a failure. Like does my summer even qualify as brat if I didn’t get laid? But as I processed my experience, it became clear that this unintentional celibacy had been profoundly illuminating.

For one, my self pleasure game has never been so strong. I wanted to create a self pleasure practice that extends beyond dissociating into the bottomless pit of PornHub, and more as an intentional act of sitting with myself in vulnerability. I wanted to redefine self-pleasure as setting aside a dedicated time to slow down and build an intuitive relationship with my body. That has looked like: lighting candles and dancing or moving sensually through my bedroom, breathing into the parts of myself that hurt so I can feel them more deeply, lying on my floor and trying all the techniques from OMGyes.com, and so much more. My self pleasure practice inadvertently made me my own best lover. It holds all other potential lovers to a new standard and eases any urgency to find them.

@chogiseok

I talk a lot about the pervasive cultural narratives about sex, but I hadn’t even realized the expectation I was holding myself to as a self identified “sexually liberated woman.” There’s this illusion that being sexually liberated means we have to be absolutely drenched, fully engorged, and ready for the taking at any given moment. Realistically, I love feeling like that but I certainly don’t always. I don’t question my relationship with food when I’m not hungry, so why do I question my relationship to sexuality when I’m not horny? Being unintentionally celibate doesn’t mean I’m less sexual, it means I’m busy. It means I’m diving deeper into my career, my growth, and the feeling of effortless connection to my own company.

I laid in my bed, the orgasm I gave myself to the thought of what could have happened earlier that night in the back of my Prius settling into my body, and wondered if he could have lived up to the fantasy I had just enjoyed of him. I wondered, without pressure on an outcome, how our emotional compatibility, mutual respect, and connection beyond physical intimacy would unfold (or not unfold). And I began to understand why someone would choose celibacy on purpose, whether it’s a reaction to the commodification of sexuality, a response to personal trauma, or simply a way to reclaim autonomy, celibacy can be a powerful statement about individual agency and self-care.

In the end, my summer of unintended celibacy was not about denying pleasure but about rediscovering the richness of life beyond it. It reaffirmed that our worth and happiness are not defined solely by our sexual experiences but by the fullness of our lives and the depth of our connections. And while I hope to have a truly Feral Fall, this wholesome Brat Summer has offered invaluable insights into who I am and what I truly seek in relationships.

sexuality