Why and How I’m Giving Up Sex For Lent

Now I know we’re two days into Lent already, so this post isn’t terribly topical, but sometimes a good idea doesn’t hit you straight away. Having not given up anything for Lent for years, I thought this year I’d make an effort. One year I gave up potatoes, and to this day can remember my celebratory meal of roast potatoes with chips and potato salad. Pure, utter bliss. But what this year? Being competitive I wanted to something difficult to give up, but not something impossible that would simply serve to depress me when I failed. I gave up smoking just after my birthday, don’t eat junk food or drink booze regularly enough for it to be difficult, and am blatantly never going to stop biting my nails as long as I have hands.

Then, last Friday, I found myself drunk in a pub at 3am. I was with a man who was nice and someone’s idea of attractive. He kissed me and I let him. I didn’t take my hands out of my pockets and stood there letting him kiss me. It was, ok, I guess. I thought about how these kind of situations usually went down when I made an effort. They usually ended in me waking up the next morning and thinking “Why do I bother?” and as I passively allowed him to kiss me I wondered what it’d be like if we stopped here. If I lied and said “Yeah, this was nice.” and went home alone, instead of reciprocating in the hope that it would get better.

Since becoming a fully fledged sexual adult I can count the number of times I’ve had sex on a second date on one hand, as for the third, well I can probably count the number of third dates I’ve had on one finger. So, this lent, I thought I’d give ‘waiting’ a go. Not just till the third date, should there be one, but for fourty full days and nights.

I wanted to know what it’d be like if I tried it. Whether I’d feel more connected when we finally got round to it. I also wanted to know if this would make people more likely to stick around. I have always held the view that if a man doesn’t respect me for sleeping with him on the first date then he’s an idiot, but what if it wasn’t about respect? Could holding off be a revelation?

Since my celibate record is a year I thought holding out for 40 days would probably be pretty easy, and so I decided I’d make things difficult for myself by creating a set of rules.

1. Everything except sex* is ok.
I figured this rule would be good because it requires superhuman willpower to be naked, rolling around in bed with someone, and then say “Wait. No. We have to stop.”

2.  For every time I masturbate I have to go swimming.
Lest you think this is some form of self-flagellation I am training for the Swimathon, so thought this would spur me on to train more often. It may just cause me to wank less. Only time will tell…

3. I must put myself in the way of as much temptation as possible.
3a. I will endeavour to go on a date every week (natural disasters/illness not withstanding)
This is where you come in dear reader! Since I am not exactly knee deep in clunge I need your help to try and tempt me off the path of goodness. Are you an eligible bachelor who wants to take me on date? Email me! Are you a sex toy shop/manufacturer who wants to send me things that will have me spending all my waking hours alternating between swimming and wanking? Go ahead! Do you have other ways to try and make me fail? Hit me bro.

And so begins my sexless Lent…

Photo of Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst (pictured in front of a Jerry de Wilde photo) by Autumn de Wilde. Illustration from the cover of pulp paperback Alimony, culled from Vintage Gal’s amazing Tumblr.

*Sex is defined as a penis in a vagina or bum, I’m not a Catholic schoolgirl: bums count.