For someone not actively engaging in sexual relationships, I find myself pondering the subject quite a bit. It’s amusing, really; I feel like a teenager whose mind is buzzing with thoughts of intimacy all day long. Yet, I have absolutely no inclination to act on those urges. As a single mother, my plate is overflowing with responsibilities, making it hard to envision trading my precious “me time” for “let’s get it on time.”
Just because I’m not in the mood for physical connection doesn’t mean I don’t daydream about it. In fact, it’s as if two conflicting parts of my brain exist—one screaming “Yes, please!” and the other calmly suggesting “Maybe later.” I can easily lose myself for hours in fantasies about a handsome stranger engaging with me, without ever feeling the need to turn those fantasies into reality. In these daydreams, I’m back to my youthful self, with perky breasts (not the ones that have endured three and a half years of breastfeeding) and a flat, toned stomach that I haven’t seen since I was 23. My imaginary partner doesn’t utter a word; he simply dedicates blissful moments to my pleasure without any distractions like dirty sheets or toys scattered across the floor, waiting to trip someone up. My surroundings are immaculate, the dishes are done, and my bathroom shines.
In this idealized escapade, I have smooth legs (thanks to an extra-long shower for shaving) and an abundance of energy to indulge for hours. I’m free from dark circles under my eyes, and my nameless admirer sees me as a goddess, no effort on my part required to earn that title. Best of all, he asks for nothing in return; his only mission is to ensure my complete satisfaction. If such a man truly exists, send him my way! Until then, I find comfort in my fantasies, which satisfy that part of me without requiring real-life engagement.
Imagined intimacy allows me to conjure scenarios where I can effortlessly arrange childcare for my child, indulge in outings without the burden of looming chores, and be the flirty, charming version of myself I sometimes struggle to embody. Conversations flow effortlessly, and I don’t have to sift through countless unsuitable options to find someone worthwhile—he simply appears, sharing my interests and accepting my quirks, like the three flavors of ice cream in my freezer. We can cuddle while watching reruns of our favorite show, no pressure.
In truth, at this stage in my life, I find that fantasizing about sex is more fulfilling than pursuing real encounters. While sex, in itself, may not equal love, it can be addictive. Once I experience it, I crave more. Yet, as I approach my 32nd birthday without ever having been married, I realize that I’m not interested in casual flings. I cherish my time too much to spend it with someone seeking nothing more than a late-night rendezvous. My past relationships have taught me that my priorities have shifted significantly since becoming a mom.
I prefer not to invest my energy in a fleeting hookup when I could be making memories with friends or my child. I have no interest in giving more of myself to someone unwilling to reciprocate, but I also don’t feel ready to search for someone who meets my criteria. Finding a partner who understands that my child and my responsibilities come first can be challenging, especially since many men my age may view me as “damaged goods” simply because I’m a single mom. I refuse to waste my time proving my worth to someone who sees me as just another notch on his belt.
Ultimately, as much as I yearn for companionship, my hesitance to seek it out signals that I may not be ready. If my desire for intimacy were as strong as my fantasies suggest, I would be more proactive about finding it. There’s nothing wrong with indulging in daydreams; they require far less energy than the pursuit of a willing partner. I can immerse myself in those thoughts while tackling daily chores or winding down for the night. Often, the imagined scenarios surpass reality, don’t they?
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In summary, while I may not be ready for real-life intimacy, my fantasies provide an outlet that satisfies my desires without the complications of reality.