Written by Jason Kireina, Peak Associate
I’ll admit, I do enjoy leaning into the sex stuff a bit. Is it because I was sexually repressed and closeted as an adolescent and thus have gone/still go overboard with compensating for lost sexual experiences? Perhaps. Do I admit I have a bit of a problem? Maybe.
Then the perfect challenge arose — a co-worker saying to me, “You really can’t go a day without doing or saying something sexual, can you?”
And that’s how my week-long experiment began — something I never thought a young, hip, easily sexually aroused person like myself would attempt.
Going celibate for a week.
Today I started my journey with perusing Grindr, Tinder, Hinge, Bro, Hornet, Chappy, and Scruff. I met up with a guy and we boned. It was rad. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be celibate. Whoops.
Day 1 (again)
OK, I actually managed to be celibate today.
Walking into the office, I definitely got some attention from my co-workers. I think they could tell I was radiating a purer and more chaste light, but that might have been because I was fully dressed like a nun.
A couple of them playfully gave me a hard time. They said things like “why are you doing this?” and “this literally makes no sense,” and “you’re just doing this for attention,” and even “you’re an idiot; I don’t even like you.”
I can’t believe this is the kind of stuff celibate people go through every day. Remarkable.
I’ll be honest, two (three, technically) days in and I’m kind of getting the handle on this. I’ve started picking up hobbies to fill the time I’d waste thinking or talking about sex — who knew you could do so much pointless shit besides trying to get raw-dogged?
Maybe this isn’t so hard after all!
I feel like I’m losing myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. I can’t do this.
Admittedly, yesterday was a bad day, but today I’m feeling better.
I’ve had to tell all of these guys who message me that I can’t talk to them because I’m celibate — I even started telling guys who haven’t even asked. I also told my parents, friends, co-workers who already knew, and random people I passed on the street.
Just doing what I can to spread the good word.
I’ve now spent five days being celibate and I truly feel like I know what the lives of celibate people are like.
There’s a lot of doubt, self-restraint, and an understanding that it’s not that you can’t have sex, it’s that you choose not to. This experiment is truly teaching me a lot of very obvious things that I can’t wait to condescendingly explain to people in depth.
I really think people will respect me for trying this out, and hopefully that will make them want to fuck me.
Two days left, and I realize now how empowering being celibate is — and not just for people who legitimately want to be celibate, but also for me, a local hero. Why? Well . . . because . . . you know . . . There are . . . expectations? We live in a society that pressures people to . . . do . . . things?
Fuck, I don’t know. People say these kinds of things in BuzzFeed videos that do really well, might as well try throwing something like that in here.
So today was my last day, and I have to say, it’s crazy how normal not being an overtly sexual/sexually-driven person has become for me. It’s like people can just be like this all of the time. Truly wild.
Honestly, I learned a lot about myself this week. I learned that every other sentence I say is/contains a euphemism for sex, buttholes, or dicks — I had to spend a lot of this week with my usually gaping mouth-hole closed. I also learned that you’re still allowed to eat and sleep when you’re celibate. And, most importantly, I learned that, much like Tinkerbell, I need to get absolutely clapped to survive. I think that’s how the quote goes, I don’t know. I’m not a Disney gay.
So I guess the question stands: would I ever do this again? Would I ever consider going celibate after a week of growing, learning, and becoming in tune with myself more?
Absolutely fucking not. This was bunk as hell.
I need to get laid. Now.