The last time I engaged in intimate relations was on my son’s first birthday, and now he’s just turned four. As he blew out the candles on his cake, I silently celebrated a different milestone: “Happy three years of being sex-free!”
Back then, I was still with my son’s father, but as time went on, our relationship began to deteriorate. My friends kept insisting that a little romance would “fix” everything, suggesting that all I needed was a good night in bed with someone new. Deep down, I understood that intimacy wasn’t the remedy for my issues.
As a nearly 30-year-old single mother, I simply couldn’t muster the energy to seek out sexual encounters. Honestly, the thought of it didn’t even cross my mind. With so many other responsibilities demanding my attention, that part of my life felt easy to switch off. Now, three years later, I still find myself uncertain about my feelings toward intimacy.
Abstaining from sex was relatively simple when I was busy caring for an infant and then a toddler. I was perpetually exhausted, barely able to keep up with the demands of motherhood, let alone think about dating. My son was highly attached to me, and leaving him for extended periods was not an option.
To add to the complexity, I was living with my parents. That arrangement was challenging in my early twenties, but it was even trickier as a thirty-something with a little one. I didn’t want to answer their prying questions about my love life, nor did I want to lie about it. Let’s be honest: many guys my age aren’t exactly lining up to date a single mom living with her parents—even if it’s just for something physical.
After my breakup with my son’s father, I found myself in a difficult mental place. No amount of casual sex would have improved that. Instead, I poured my energy into my career and often worked long hours, leaving me too drained to venture out and meet anyone.
However, as my writing career began to flourish, I started to feel better about myself. I made an effort to improve my appearance and even ventured out with friends a couple of times. One night at a bar, a charming gentleman flirted with me, but instead of excitement, I felt nauseous. I realized that while I was feeling more confident, I still wasn’t ready for intimacy or dating. My friends jokingly nudged me to put myself out there, but I firmly told them to back off. I didn’t want to feel pressured to conform to their ideas of what was normal.
They couldn’t grasp how I managed to suppress my sexual side, but for me, it wasn’t as difficult as it seemed. Sex has never been a monumental part of my life. Sure, I enjoy it, but my main interest lies in companionship, with intimacy flowing naturally from that connection. Casual encounters don’t resonate with me, and I’m not in a place where I want to form attachments.
Honestly? I’ve grown to love the life I’m building for myself. I’m content with my work, my friendships, and my relationship with my child. I don’t want to stress about looking attractive for someone else. I appreciate being able to skip the makeup, leg shaving, and wearing nothing but comfy leggings and tees. By 10 PM, I’m wiped out. The idea of partying and hunting for casual connections doesn’t appeal to me. Sure, if a great guy happened to come my way, I wouldn’t turn him away, but I’m not actively seeking it out.
Let’s be real: the thought of dating again is daunting. I’m in my early thirties, and this isn’t quite where I envisioned myself. The idea of being intimate with someone new is pretty intimidating. After being with the same partner for four years, my body has changed. After nearly four years of breastfeeding, things aren’t quite as firm as they used to be. Plus, I have a preschooler to care for, and I worry about balancing my energy between parenting and being present for a partner.
Not to mention the logistics of arranging childcare—who wants to deal with that just to have a little fun?
In theory, going out and flirting sounds delightful, but only if I get to retreat home to my cozy bed, binge on ice cream straight from the carton, and indulge in some Harry Styles videos. I wouldn’t mind sharing a passionate kiss and then saying goodnight, but actual intercourse? That’s a big decision. Clearly, my hesitation signals I’m just not ready.
And you know what? That’s perfectly fine.
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Summary
A single mother reflects on her journey of abstaining from sex for three years following a breakup. Despite societal pressures and the expectations of friends, she finds contentment in her current life without intimacy, focusing on her career and her child. The article explores the emotional complexities of dating, self-acceptance, and the challenges of combining motherhood with romantic aspirations.
Keyphrase
single mother intimacy journey
Tags
[“home insemination kit” “home insemination syringe” “self insemination”]