I like sex. Yes, I do. And I have no shame in admitting that. People like food, flowers, fashion… then why can’t I like a good session in the bed? But living without it for five long years was one of the hardest life lessons I had to endure. And I mean complete deprivation. No kiss. No hug. Not even a handshake (ouch…). I was not the kind then to indulge in casual sex although I discovered its virtues later.
The marriage wasn’t working
It began with a next-to-none-sex-marriage. It’s not to say that sex was not there initially. It was. But then it fizzled out way too quickly. And when the sex stopped so did the intimacy.
Cheating never crossed my mind because I believe in monogamy. In fact, in all my previous relationships before marriage, I had been extremely committed to my partners. And it’s something I pride myself in, up until today.
Anyway, coming back to my marriage – it did end and I was pretty much left on my own – as a single mom.
I was like a born-again virgin
I was convinced that I’d die a born-again-virgin. Every fun test I took on Facebook, which told you about your ideal profession, turned out to be a debacle. I was convinced that these guys were secretly monitoring my private life. Do you want to know the test results? Well, read on. “Rashmi, your ideal job is a NUN.” Or better still… “Rashmi, you’re 99% saint and 1% naughty!” The impact these juvenile tests created by some 20-something-loser was so profound on me that I actually sat up one whole night crying to my girlfriend about how my period of drought is a bottomless pit of unirrigated, coarse, untended dry land! At the end of our 30 minutes chat, we both had a good laugh at the choice of my words… But it was as good as it lasted. Night after night, morning after morning, my patch was arid!
I kept living a sexless life
This continued for five years. I had begun to accept my sexless life as a sex-diet life. I had stopped looking in the mirror. I made a public announcement that Whoopi Goldberg offered me the lead in Sister Act 3.
I had forgotten how a man’s lips, or his hands or his hair felt like. My tiny son’s baby arms were the only man’s arms that wrapped around my body to be held or fed or put to bed. And I have been blessed to be a mommy, but I was also something more. I was a woman.
And it was at that moment I knew something had to change.
I took things in my hands
Game on. I lost some weight. Spent $ 800 in a hair makeover, another $ 200 in new clothes, but most importantly, I decided to treat myself well. And the money was all worth it.
I jumped into online dating. Not really to “find the one” but to find MYSELF. I needed to know if I was ready. Desirable. In demand. In need. I was quite flattered to realise that a lot of men did want to date me. And I am not talking about the ageing, balding, rounded tummy kinds. I am talking about some seriously hot guys who were also “conventionally” doing well. Like, one Indo-Brit-Canadian doctor and I got funky a few times. Then there was another Indo-African-Canadian lawyer with whom I spent some steamy moments at the Canadian Rockies. On another occasion, there was this Canadian DJ who’d begun to worship me. On many nights he had dedicated some romantic songs to me while scratching the disc with one hand and holding me with the other. And this was just the beginning. After a short break from the dating website, when I decided to have another dig at it, I indulged in some exoticism: right from Egyptian to Scottish.
It was casual sex with no emotion
But in spite of all this joie de vivre, my life seemed incomplete. I was facing that same elephant that most, if not all, women face. The beast that we all choose to ignore.
This beast is called the beast of emotions. Love. Fondness. Attachment. Security. Stability. And if you’re reading this and if you’re a woman, you’ll know what I am talking about.
With most of these men, I had great sexcapades, but neither of us was willing to fall in love. While the irony is that somewhere deep down, they and I were shooting for the same stars. We all wanted acceptance. Just one desperate evening to be held. Just one tender kiss on the forehead.
Only sex is also beautiful
And my moment of epiphany kicked in when I realized that I should not necessarily look for LOVE in a man I had SEX with. And like I said, for most women it is obvious, but it is also extremely crucial and beautiful to let sex remain sex. Why do I say this? Well, because you truly need to know if you’re REALLY in love with the man before you can put your heart out, or is it the release of estrogen that’s making you cry after sex.
Casual sex is powerful
I am an extremely emotional and sensitive woman and I know exactly how it feels when you start checking your phone every hour after that previous night. So don’t get me wrong here. Emotions are important. But so is sex. Especially if you’re one like me who knows what the lack of it means.
So casual sex is powerful. Potent. Magical. Don’t kick it away to fulfil your emotions.
Even after getting the attention I craved for in years (now from the same sex too. Thanks to Canada!) I haven’t stopped working on myself – physically, emotionally, creatively and spiritually.
Because you are all you have in the end. Take yourself seriously. Not casually. Rest will follow.
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