Let’s be real: I’m not giving up sex. I love it — the anticipation, the spark, the warm post-glow of it all.
For me, it’s one of those things that makes life feel vibrant and delicious.
So when I heard about someone who chose to go celibate for a whole year — on purpose — my first thought was, Is she okay?
Seriously, people are already skipping pasta for Ozempic and pretending chewing ice is a snack.
Now we’re voluntarily cutting off orgasms too?
Meet the Woman Who Said No to Love, Lust, and Literally Everyone
Melissa Febos, author of The Dry Season, made the bold decision to step off the dating hamster wheel completely.
No flirting, no dating, no sex — not even indulging in subway crushes.
After a particularly toxic breakup, Melissa realized that her whole approach to love and intimacy felt more like an addiction than a joy.
“I wasn’t just mourning the end of a relationship,” she told me.
“I was mourning the way I’d been living.” And that way of living, according to her, wasn’t working anymore.
So she cut it all off — cold turkey.
What Happens When You Date No One but Yourself?
You’d think life would get lonelier, right? But according to Melissa, the opposite happened.
“Suddenly I had time,” she said. “I started dancing again. Cooking. Taking long baths.”
She described it as dating herself — and she was totally into it.
I’ll admit, part of me side-eyed her thinking, How much sex were you having that you forgot how to cook and bathe? But the truth is, it wasn’t the sex itself she needed a break from — it was all the emotional baggage that came with it.
She Wasn’t Having Bad Sex — She Was Performing
Melissa opened up about a harsh realization: she’d spent years having sex she didn’t actually want.
Not because anyone forced her, but because of guilt. “I felt like if I said no too often, I’d be a bad partner,” she confessed.
So, she kept saying yes — even when she didn’t feel it.
With all the dating noise shut off, Melissa was finally able to hear her own voice again.
She rediscovered joy in small pleasures — fuzzy socks, old movies, snack plates made for no one but herself.
And that quiet space? It helped her unlearn years of people-pleasing and emotional contortion.
From Dry Spell to Deeper Love
Now married to a woman, Melissa describes their sex life as intentional, tender, and thoughtful.
They even take what she calls “pleasure sabbaticals” — times where they just cuddle, talk, or connect in other ways.
“It’s not about depriving ourselves,” she explained. “It’s about being present.”
The intimacy they’ve built now, she says, goes far beyond the physical.
You Don’t Have to Quit Sex to Wake Up
Here’s the thing — Melissa’s celibacy worked for her, but that doesn’t mean we all have to go monk mode to gain clarity.
What really hit me from our conversation was this: most of us aren’t addicted to sex. We’re addicted to distraction.
We use dating, desire, and drama to avoid ourselves.
So no, I’m not tossing my lingerie in a drawer for a year. But I am asking myself what toxic habit I’ve been clinging to like it’s oxygen.
My Toxic Trait? Picking the Walking Red Flags
If we’re confessing — I have a spectacular gift for falling for emotionally unavailable men.
The type who wave their red flags early, and instead of walking away, I whisper, “I can fix him.”
Reader: I cannot.
That’s the cycle I’m breaking up with this year.
Melissa used celibacy. I’m using better taste in men.
It’s Not About Abstinence — It’s About Awareness
Some people overgive. Some scroll their ex’s Instagram daily.
Others fall apart the minute someone shows them affection.
Whatever your pattern is — that’s what’s worth giving up. Not sex. Not love. The chaos.
I’m done calling chemistry what is clearly just cortisol.
Done mistaking emotional constipation for mystery.
Done confusing butterflies with warning signs.
Grown Women Don’t Play Fixer-Upper Anymore
Melissa reclaimed her power by stepping away from sex.
I’m reclaiming mine by no longer chasing men who need therapy more than they need a girlfriend.
It’s not about saying no to pleasure — it’s about saying yes to peace.
Yes to men who are emotionally available, communicative, and yes, still sexy.
They exist, right? I’m choosing to believe they do.
Sex Isn’t the Problem — Our Patterns Are
So no, I won’t be joining the celibate squad. But I am breaking up with every habit that drains me.
Every man who confuses detachment with coolness.
Every moment I betray my gut for someone else’s comfort.
Because healing doesn’t have to be about denial.
Sometimes, it’s about deciding you’ve had enough of your own nonsense.
Now excuse me — I’ve got orgasms to enjoy… with someone who actually texts back.