Will I grow scales? Will my hymen reappear? Will my perspiration reek of desperation? Will my emotions be overtaken by the thought of never having sex again? Or will life just go on as it always has?

It’s finally happened, my dear readers. I experienced being celibate for a whole year and… I’m dying on the inside.

Mind you, it’s not because I couldn’t have had sex. God only knows how many people out there are gagging for it and wouldn’t have minded banging me. But I had to stop. Three failed long term relationships and a never-ending stream of one night stands and short term relationships in between has left me feeling all but empty.

So last November, I said to myself, ‘I won’t give into having sex with just anyone. I want to have sex with someone I love and someone I find attractive and want to be with.’ Little did I realise – although, admittedly stupidly – that saving my sexual prowess for someone worthy was going to mean 365 days (and counting) of bleakness and longing.

I wouldn’t suggest you follow in my footsteps. I’ve now become addicted to finding the One, and unfortunately, that means that no one’s good enough, so I’m probably going to be chaste for the rest of my life.

However, I do want to share what I’ve discovered with you!

I feel powerful.

As all my friends can attest, I was never one of those women who waited for a man to make the first move. If I saw something I liked, I went out to get it. But going out in the full knowledge that I don’t have to have sex makes me feel powerful. I don’t have to make sure I’m groomed in all the right places and it doesn’t matter if my frenemy, Perioda, is visiting or not – albeit more aperiodically than ever. The ball is now completely in my court, and it feels wonderful.

I feel alone.

It’s lonely at the top, and I miss human contact. I often dream about having sex and feel like shit the next day. I also bought Josh the Dildo two new friends, and I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce Ras the Jack Rabbit Vibrator, and Marth-ass the Butt Plug. They’re very happy to meet you, too.

I feel scared.

For the first time since I lost my virginity at age 15, I have been single and sexless for a year. This is completely new territory for me, and I’m not really sure where I’m going to end up. Will I be remembered as the old hag who shared her house with 50 dildos? I’m allergic to cats, you see. Or, will I have an Eat Pray Love journey and find my Prince Charming in a few months’ time?

I feel relentlessly restless.

Since I know that I need to find the One to have sex again, my search for him has intensified and I’m getting worried. The more people I date, the more I believe that I’m just destined to live alone and sexless. I can’t seem to decide what I want and the universe is really not helping. All the men have been either handsome and dumb or interesting and fugly. The ones that seem to be worth a second date turn out to be jackasses or narcissists, too.

I feel motivated.

Having said all of this, I’ve never played such an active role in my love and sex lives. Normally, I sort of fall into relationships and they feel comfortable and wonderful, until one day, they don’t. Now I’m actively shedding all the things I thought were important – which clearly didn’t work – and I’m trying a new set of criteria.

And that is exactly what’s keeping me going. Nevertheless, if you think you have what it takes to be my One, please do let me know in the comments section. I don’t want to die a re-virginised virgin.

You’ve heard Evelyn’s drill. Let her know in the comments section below.


Also, have a look at what we’ve got to say about oral sex.