I want to be honest so I’m just going to dive into my TMI moment.

Here goes.

I haven’t had sex with anyone other than myself in a while (a while for me that is, since I was having sex regularly for the last five years) and it’s a personal choice. My eroscillator helps when I want more than my hand, so I’m all set for now, thank you. I’m not looking for warm penis because I don’t want what else comes with the territory. And I feel not all sorts of weird, but a little strange saying that I don’t want sex with someone else right now, since half of what I do is about having better partner sensual activity. I have been lucky enough to make my career doing what I genuinely love (sex) so I feel at odds in the professional and personal departments of my life. Still, as a human being with a waxing and waning sex drive, it feels totally normal that this happened. I’ve even been keeping a blog about it, although I’m not going to give out the URL yet because it’s more of a personal journal and journey and now, on the eve of being two months into my self-imposed celibacy, I thought I’d over share just a little.

I got an email from a friend today:

how many couples have a good sex life after 40 or maybe the question is… how many women over 40 have a sex drive? Just wondering.

I’m wondering too.  I don’t have the answer, for a number of reasons, the first being I’m not even sure there is one. I’m not in a relationship right now, and haven’t been in one that’s lasted over five years since I was 24, and I’m not over 40, and I have no idea. Sex is something we all deal with in our own ways, right? It changes all the time. With birth control, hormones, love, lust - there’s a wide range of whooping.

I have friends who were in miserable monogamous marriages who have a lot of sex with a lot of people these days. Others that haven’t had sex in three years, and then those that maintain what feels like a regular amount of normal sexual activity to keep both of them satisfied. And then there’s me, the only person I can answer for, who at 30 somethin’ somethin’ is not having any sex (good thing I don’t believe that there’s a sexual peak that must only happen to a woman in her 30s) and is probably at the prime time, and in the prime body, for the hottest sex of my life (at least up until now).

Sex. I think about it often, and I know not everyone even does that, but that’s as far as it goes right now. I’ve thought about it with at least three men I’ve met in LA since October, and that’s a promising start to what will be my eventual reemergence into my sexual self-with-another. I’m hoping that in a few months I will do it with one of these men (or some other even better man I’ve yet to meet) and at that time I only ask that he’s really attractive to me, that he’s great in bed and ready to open up and show me more than a good time (and yes, Morty Diamond, I know you ask that he’s Jewish..), but for now I’ll stick to masturbation. I love it. It works. I get what I want out of it, and I do it in the comfort of my awesome memory foam mattress.

And I’m open to making out, which I’m just putting out there in case it should happen. But you, if you want to have sex, I hope it’s the best. And I’m happy to offer you my tips and techniques and even relish in your stories about how good it felt when he first slid inside of you, or when you used your favorite toy. And one day in the not too distant, but still distant future, without the aid of flibanserin, I’ll have some really good sex with some really great partner, and I’ll be back to the self that loved to have sex with some other warm human being, but for now, I’ve got other things to focus on. Like me.