Not just a dry spell: What if I’m not choosing celibacy, but it’s choosing me?

Just because we’re closing our legs to others, doesn’t mean we’re closing ourselves off to pleasure.

In 2024, celibacy is no longer seen as ‘something only nuns do’ but a devotion to an even higher religion – nurturing the self. For some, voluntary celibacy is a way to free themselves from the chains of dating culture and meaningless casual sex, while for others, it allows them to live a life with more clarity, better orgasms and time to focus on their careers and platonic relationships.

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While celibacy can be one person’s saviour, it can be another person’s curse. Just as there are those who are choosing to abstain from sex, others are patiently staring at their calendars, counting the cobwebs between their legs, and asking, “When will the day come?”. There’s even a term for this experience – involuntary celibacy, or those who desire sex but cannot find the means to do so.

Not having sex is less about you and more about the world we’re living in

Although Australia and New Zealand are the second and third horniest countries on earth, we’re currently having less sex than ever before thanks to our accelerated pace of life, poor work-life balance and chronic use of devices. On top of this, the world is in a pretty diabolical state right now, making many people feel less like getting down and dirty and more like curling up on the couch.

And while society might think sex to be a frivolous, recreational pursuit, many psychological obstructions stand between us and sex. For a lot of people, sex and intimacy can feel threatening, unsafe or even dangerous. So, finding someone we believe to be attractive, trustworthy and safe enough to get into bed with can be daunting. Sex is not always as simple as just doing it.

But the more we don’t do it, the more we can find ourselves in a negative feedback loop. ‘If I’m not having sex, I must be undesirable, unworthy and unattractive’ is one of the many stories we tell ourselves. This is the paradox of sex: the more we think and worry about it, the harder it becomes, which is why we must rethink our sexual scripts.

The fallacy of frequency

The majority of us have lived our sexual lives based on a ‘sexual script theory’. These are the set ideas we learn through media, porn and how sex is spoken about in popular culture. The incorrect idea that sex is only sex if it’s penetrative and involves a penis and a vagina is a clear example of how ingrained these scripts are in our lives. Another sexual script that’s commonplace is the concept of a ‘body count’. It can feel like we’re forced to carry our sexual experiences around with us, like a scorecard pinned to our foreheads.

This fallacy of frequency is something these sexual scripts clearly get wrong. We believe frequency to be representative of our sexual success and a measure of our desirability. However, as Dr Karen Gurney, a clinical psychologist and psychosexologist, found, “There is no correlation between frequency of sex and sexual satisfaction”. That is to say, you don’t need to have prolific amounts of sex to experience high levels of sexual pleasure.

Despite what some Australian and New Zealand men may try telling you, sex is not a sport. There are no winners or losers, and there’s certainly no scoreboard. Your sexuality doesn’t have a clock, nor does it know about that silly tally in your Notes app.

Pleasure doesn’t need a partner

Another part of our sexual scripts we get wrong is the belief that ‘it takes two to tango’ (or if you engage in sex parties or threesomes, the belief that it takes multiple to tango). In other words, we believe we must find a partner (or partners) to fulfil our sexual desires. But you’re not a main character stuck in someone else’s script – you’re the director of your own sexual life.

While safe, consensual, unrepressed sex with a like-minded person is one of the very few free and pleasurable things granted to us in life, sex is so much more than how we connect with someone else, it’s how we connect with ourselves and explore who we are. It’s understanding how we relax and release. Although we might be devoid of intimacy with another person, it doesn’t mean we’re devoid of intimacy altogether.

Realising your sexual self has and will always be there inside you will help you unlock an oasis of introspective intimacy. Just as your desire for sex hasn’t gone anywhere, neither has your sexual self. As we embrace winter’s seclusion and go inward with ourselves, we can do the same with our sexual bodies. We can surrender to life’s sexual seasons and put less focus on the act of sex and more on nurturing ourselves as a sexual being.

Whether it’s voluntary or involuntary, a period of celibacy can allow us to get in touch with our sexual autonomy. It allows us to be more intentional with our bodies, carefully considering what we want before offering them to someone else. That, in itself, is extremely hot and sexy. And if you’re one of the many millions of people out there who’s not having sex but is still fantasising about it, that’s perfectly okay. Sometimes, the best sex is the sex that never happens.

For more on celibacy, try this.