Sex and the single girl...who has four kids and some serious self esteem issues.

Yes, don't look so shocked and horrified. You knew I was going to talk about this.

Obviously I am not a virgin. Sex was, prior to my marriage, something that I really, really liked. A lot. I wasn't a whore, per se, but did have my fair share of boyfriends and a few blurry one night stands. There were also some very nice friends with benefits situations. God, my early twenties were fun.

Anyhoo. I won't go into all of that right now. What I will discuss this morning is how a woman goes from being a married, suburban stay at home mom who rations out b.j.'s like a doctor doling out lollipops after shots to being a single woman faced with the prospect of perhaps never having sex again. Some days, I think that if I had a genie magically appear in front of me and say, "Jenny, you have a choice. I will give you free Showtime for the rest of your days if you remain sex-free" I wouldn't have to think long before saying "Okay~ sounds good Genie." Other days, I see couples walking hand in hand and feel utterly alone and empty.

Sex, or the lack of it, is the last thing on your mind whilst navigating the Divorce Jungle. You basically focus on staying sane and making sure your kids are surviving. It's when the dust settles and you find yourself maybe a little tipsy from a glass or four of wine that your mind begins to wander.

One mandatory rite of passage for the divorced woman is the purchase of a "toy". I guess I was somewhat of a prude for the first half of my adult life; I had never even seen one in person. So, armed with the advice from one of my more liberated girlfriends, I went to drugstore.com and began looking for my own personal BOB (that's battery operated boyfriend). Dear Lord. There were pages and pages to choose from. BOBs disguised as lipsticks. BOBs made of glass (umm, anyone else snap their legs shut?), BOBs that moved, BOBs that glowed, BOBs that did everything but tell you how pretty you are and pick up the check for dinner.

I am a conscientious purchaser. I read the reviews. I had narrowed my decision down to two BOBs. One was called "The Hungry Bear", the other was called "White Lightning" or something of that ilk. The reviews for the Bear were mostly positive, but I did notice lots of "wow, much bigger than pictured"...like that was a negative or something. So I chose the Bear. I waited anxiously for my UPS chick to show up, praying that one of the kids didn't answer the door and rip open the package.

It was awkward, but fun. That's all I'll say. I will share that Hungry Bear was thrown away after a particularly paranoid time in my life when all I could think about was getting in a car accident and having my hens come clean out my house. Not quite sure what would be more mortifying, the prospect of them coming across the poor Hungry Bear or my sad drawer full of crime scene underwear. Hungry Bear was a good friend, who is truly missed.

But I am a "people person", and soon found myself wanting company of the non-silicone kind. The same wise woman who hooked me up with Hungry Bear was also fluent in the language of online dating, and held my hand as I took that giant leap.

I was totally unprepared for this one.

1 comment:

  1. My husband was/is the only man I've ever slept with. A good Catholic girl. I thought my husband would say that I was his first/only as well but unfortunately that's changed in the last few years.


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