masterbate

So you last heard from me a week ago when I told you about my reckless rampage through North London in my temporary role as Mrs Friendly from Happy Land. I had a great time. I did not have a great time for a few days after though. I’m never going out again and if I do I am staying sober. Recovery takes so long after the age of 30. I was in a fragile state. I cried uncontrollably whilst watching Dirty Dancing and I welled up during The Emoji Movie. Really fuck my life. The last blog ended with me saying that I had no regrets, my phone line was now popping and I was excited about it. Well that lasted for about 18 hours. There was Max – the one who had an old basher phone and whose eyes I wanted to see under his glasses. We were digging each other, apparently. Well, he text me on Sunday, the day after meeting him – TEXT – not WhatsApp. I always find it strange when people text, I like the whole interaction thing that WhatsApp gives you. Texts feel disconnected and distant. I feel like I wonder whether they’re going to receive it, and will they be able to see emojis? I needn’t have worried because this is how the texting went:

Max: You alright? How was Egg?

Me: We went to Scala instead. Was really good, where did you end up?’

Max: Ah wicked. We ended up going home. We took the train back and it killed my vybe (yes spelt like that)

Me: That was probably a good idea. I feel completely fucked.

Max: Yeah I bet, I got back at 1.30 head hit the pillow and I was out. Lol

Me: I bet you feel pretty much back to normal now then?

And then nothing. For two days. But on Tuesday he excitedly returned:

Max: Hey Babe! I’m back LOL

Me: Do you have WhatsApp?

And that was that. Max obviously does not wish to share his WhatsApp with me. I am not at smart phone levels in his eyes. I am stored in his 1995 Nokia 1738, his wasteman phone, hence why I only got texts. His Mrs probably knows the passcodes on his iphone. I’m assuming he has a partner, or else what is the explanation for this bullshit? Harry was pretty much the same. The gurner who I was already following on my personal insta. We exchanged about 6 DMS, all about Carnival and festivals but there would be a 10 hour delay between each response and it wasn’t going anywhere so Harry was a non-starter too. Oh, and Richard was much the same, although Richard is very keen but I’m letting that one fizzle out. I’m just not sure that he’s my intellectual match. He’s very basic, VERY basic, but really sweet, asking me lots of questions about my family, whether I want more children, what my favourite colour is, my shoe size (5), whether I’d be willing to have more children soon because he wants them ASAP…..he has literally jumped from ‘hello’ to ‘will you be my baby mum?’ in the space of about 20 messages over a period of half a day. Too much too soon.

And then there’s Louis *sighs*. Louis is the half Jamaican half Spanish one who I fell through a door in front of. Louis and I met up on Monday evening. I was still in a fragile state and so we went for a drink but I wanted to chill and smoke and so I accepted an invite to his. I laid out the ‘I’m not coming for sex or any sexual antics’ disclaimer before I agreed. Louis is extremely attractive to me, like, EXTREMELY. Not everyone gives me the fanny flutters but he really does. Just looking at him talking, or doing a mundane task, gives me the feeling. We get on but purely on a surface level. We’re not the same. He is not my soul mate but I do like him. We have things in common, he’s sweet and thoughtful and he’s easy to be around (and to look at), we have great chemistry but it’s not that deep and it never will be. Part of the reason why, as I only discovered on our date, is that Louis is 25. He looks 30 because he’s tall, and he’s got a thick beard, and curly hair, and I just assumed that he was an appropriate age, it is really a crucial question, but I must have forgotten to ask it at Scala and it never occurred to me to bring it up again. I would not have met up with him if I had known.

I know that 25 is grown, but men at 25 are very different to men at 35, and they are significantly different to women at 35. 25 is too young for me. Not in terms of friendships with females, but certainly in terms of a relationship with a man. I’ve got a close friend who is 22 and I’ve got another close friend who is 65 but I would not date a 22 year old or a 65 year old. Maybe if Louis fully had his shit together and was on top of his game career wise, or working towards it, then maybe I would give different thoughts to it. But Louis is a professional wasteman from what I can gather. His answers about his career as a personal trainer were vague and I didn’t bother probing.

Louis is one of those annoying people who says they don’t vote because politicians are all the same. If you follow my Instagram you will know how much I love Jeremy Corbyn. He is not the same as Theresa May and I don’t want to have to argue with someone about this. I want a man who I share values and opinions with. It’s very important to me. Also, he does annoying things in an annoying way, like booking a flight and then realising that he’s lost his passport the day before flying, or being crashed into on his Motorbike and refusing to go through his insurance because he’s got a mate who ‘is into insurance and all that, he’s going to sort it all out for me’. I don’t rate that. I’m organised, I know how to deal with basic life situations pretty well. I don’t need to become a carer for a man, or a personal assistant. I do not suffer fools gladly and I just don’t feel like I should have to teach a man how to do normal everyday things, or be with a man who I’d be worried about putting in charge of organising our holiday.

Occasionally though, Louis will show a really sharp, bright side, like when he raised a discussion about rape culture or when he talks about his love of food and cooking. He’s nice. He’s just not the grown, sorted, well established, fully formed man that I know that I need. I’m a bit of an alpha female and so I am not good with men who I don’t see as my equal. I become resentful and I get condescending. I always try to tell them what to do because I look at how they run their lives and I think, urghhh, you could make this so much easier for yourself. I do like hanging around with him though. And I do really, really, find him attractive.

We didn’t do anything while I was at his house. We just talked. I ordered a cab, which he paid for, and in the 4 minutes that it took to arrive he gave me the best kissing/dry humping session I’ve had since around 1996. He is a bloody good kisser, his hands were amazing too. He didn’t touch me explicitly but he was grabbing my hips and breasts in a way that showed me that he really appreciated the meat in his hands. It was a shock when my cab arrived because I had got completely lost into this zone of Louis, when it did arrive I was giddy and slightly embarrassed, but it was brief and we didn’t take it very far so I had no regrets. He messaged me when I got home, and he hasn’t stopped messaging me since. And now I’m highly confused. I saw him again on Friday night after my Insta live chat. On that occasion Louis claims to have experienced giving oral sex for the first time. I am not sure if I believe him though, if he’s telling the truth then boy, he was born to do it. I didn’t return the favour but he didn’t mind. He appeared to thoroughly enjoy himself. We didn’t have sex but we arranged to meet on the Saturday night, it never happened though because I was too tired and I cancelled. Then we arranged to meet on the Sunday night but my neighbour had to rush her youngest daughter to hospital and so I stayed at hers to look after her eldest.

I’ve been clear with him from the moment that I found out his age that I would not be looking at him as a potential partner. I think that has made him more interested in me. If I was all over him trying to size him up to be my future husband then he’d have probably lost interest already but I think my lack of interest has motivated him, I think my age has too. I’m a lot calmer and more settled than the women he usually meets apparently, but that’s because he’s probably used to dating women in their early twenties, and of course there is going to be a big difference. If you have not changed and progressed between the ages of 25 and 35 then you have failed at life. If I am the same at 45 as I am now, then I have failed to progress in 10 years and that is not cool. I’m not saying that I am better than a 25 year old, but I am certainly a better version of myself than I was 10 years ago. That is how life should be. People who say that age ain’t nothing but a number need to stop listening to Aaliyah tunes and taking them as life mottos (although I love that woman deeply). It’s just a song and it’s inaccurate.

So yeah, I’m feeling very unsure about Louis. Like I said, it’s actually been really nice having him around. He pays me the best compliments, he makes me feel good, he is sexy as fuck and he’s extremely fuckable but I’m just not sure that fuckable is what I’m looking for these days. 2 years ago I would have been all over it. I would have happily taken him on as a fuckbuddy to see me through my single days, and then I would have ended up falling for him and watching when he was last online constantly, and worrying about whether he was talking to anyone else, and becoming clingy and needy because when I start to like someone, which I always do, Fuckbuddy land becomes a very difficult place to be.

I’ve told him that I don’t want to have sex yet and he is completely accepting of that, except he has alluded to the fact that he thinks I am taking sex too seriously. But I don’t think I am. I have had a total mind shift about sex and what it means to me. My whole adult life I have been quite a sexual person. I have never followed rules about waiting for a certain amount of time before sleeping with someone, I follow my feelings. With one ex I waited months, with another I did it on the first night. I haven’t slept with loads of people (whatever loads is) but that is because I haven’t found loads of people I have wanted to sleep with, if I had I would have probably slept with far more. I am not judgemental about sex. I am not judgemental of people for how many men they have slept with, in fact I am more judgemental of people who post memes about women with high ‘body counts’. I actually want to exterminate people who talk about body counts – as though we are murderers.  I think great sex with the right person is right up there with one of the life’s greatest pleasures and I think people should be free to choose who they fuck without any moral bullshit being thrown at them by repressed people who have nothing better to do than cast their own issues at others. Especially when they do it to women simply because they are women, and when they judge women who enjoy sex as being hoes.

To me, you could sleep with a different man every month and if you are doing it because you want to, because you enjoy it, and you are not hurting anyone (or yourself) then you are not a hoe. I personally would not enjoy that, but I do not think there is anything wrong with a woman who does. What she does with her vagina is her business. I have been celibate for 10 months. I didn’t set out to be celibate, it wasn’t an active decision, it just sort of happened. I had never ALLOWED it to happen before because I have always used sex for male attention and validation and as a way of feeling less lonely, but under the guise of being horny. So when it ended with someone, I would not leave it very long (a few weeks max) before calling up an old tried and tested fuckbuddy, or going out and pursuing a new relationship because I felt like I needed sex and sexual attention to feel good about myself. Except quite often it didn’t make me feel good about myself. It gave me thrush and made me wish that I had chosen a good night’s sleep over a bad ex’s willy.

This time around though something changed. Callum was my last ‘relationship’ and he was the final straw. He was another one, in a string of many, where I had thought that I was the only person that he was seeing and then later found out that I was not. I really needed a break from men after Callum. The fuckboy that had directly preceded Callum was a skanky free shagging gigolo too (but I’m saving him for the book), and between the two of them I was pushed very close to the edge of becoming a man hating faux lesbian for the rest of my life. I was still talking to people, Corey, Fuckboy Kieron, but nothing was going anywhere and I wasn’t pushing it to. The longer that time went on without me having sex the more I began to realise how good it felt. Of course, I have been getting horny, but that can easily be addressed at home alone. The thing that I have been craving more has been male interaction and intimacy. Not sex. Cuddles, mindless strokes of the thigh while watching TV, hand holding, just that male energy. Not cock.

I have never stopped being open to meeting someone new, and I have never said that I am going to be celibate for a certain amount of time, like I said, it’s just sort of happened. I have met new people in between but none of them have been up to my standards and so I have not been tempted to sleep with any of them, or even go on a date with any of them. And the longer that I have gone without sex, the more precious sex and my vagina, have become to me. I do not want to give it away to some undeserving fuckboy who literally only sees me as a sex toy just because I am bored, or lonely, or horny. I do not want to share bodily fluids with someone who is sharing them with other people. I do not want to wake up in someone’s house and have to leave early because I need a poo and I don’t feel comfortable doing it at his. I don’t want to get drawn into having sex with someone because sex is an expectation in an adult relationship, or because I think that once he finds out how amazing my punani is that he’ll fall in love with me. I want sex to be making love, with a bit of fucking thrown in for good measure. I want real intimacy, I want sex to happen because I am really into a man who adores and respects me and who wants to get inside every part of me. Sex was never this much of a big deal for me, but going without it has completely shifted my view.

In the last blog I spoke about how I got so wasted that I ended up going home with a man, but that I did not bring him home for sex. We had a failed attempt at sex which I have decided to discount, because it did not go far in enough or go on long enough for it to be classed as sex. And I am really glad that it didn’t. I wouldn’t have beaten myself up about it if it had but I would have regretted it. There is something really nice about feeling really clean and man free, although I am awaiting a sexual health test following my recent fuck up, but because it was hardly sex I’m not too worried. The sexual health side of things is a big motivating factor in my reluctance to have sex though. I guess that if I continue to meet up with Louis then sex is going to happen soon, and for that reason maybe I should stop meeting up with him. One of the first things that I thought when he told me his age was ‘Ahhh, the highest rates of STI’s are found in 18 – 25 year olds – this guy could be risky’. I have been very lucky in the 21 years since I lost my virginity because I have never caught anything – but luck really is the only reason, because I have played Russian roulette way too many times.

I am a qualified Sexual Health and Relationships Advisor and so I spent many years working in clinics and schools/youth settings teaching people about the risks of unsafe sex and the importance of healthy relationships and so I am well aware of the potential ramifications of having sex. Even with condoms. Because condoms cannot always protect you from everything like, scabies, crabs, herpes, and warts, they can certainly help, but when it comes to sex there is a small risk attached to every sexual encounter and so every sexual encounter should really be weighed up against that risk to assess whether it is worth it. When I worked in the clinic I would see the same young people repeatedly coming back time and time again getting re-infected with chlamydia. They would catch it, treat it, but then be too embarrassed to tell the people they had slept with, they would then sleep with the same people again and be surprised when they kept getting it again. Some young men even wore chlamydia as a badge of honour, a sign that they had been London’s top player. It was painful to watch. There is certainly less of a stigma around chlamydia and gonorrhoea then there is around other infections and I think that is a very good thing, except we need to work on removing the stigma from other infections ASAP. It’s a good thing because people are less afraid to inform past partners about those infections because of the laissez faire attitude that is attached to them. Catch it quickly enough and you can deal with it easily. People don’t take Chlamydia and Gonorrhoea very seriously in my experience because it is easy to treat with anti-biotics. Gonorrhoea was more feared usually, because of the more prominent symptoms like a foul yellow or green discharge and bleeding between periods, but both are often symptomless and so some people take them with a pinch of salt. Until they turn into pelvic inflammatory disease that is, and they are left in excruciating pain and with the prospect of not being able to have children.

I received a DM from a follower who told me about a guy who she had met outside a club, they had a whirlwind romance and it all moved really quickly. He assured her that she was the only person that he was sleeping with and that he had been recently tested. She believed him because he put a picture of her on his WhatsApp profile and he told her that he wanted to have a baby. She noticed that he never got calls or messages when he was with her and that led to her discovering that he put his phone on airplane mode every time they were together. That was her first indication that something was wrong. Very soon after she found out that she was pregnant, with the baby that he wanted to have, but when she told him he completely stopped speaking to her and ghosted. Weeks into the pregnancy she went to the Dr with severe pains only to discover that she had pelvic inflammatory disease caused by gonorrhoea which in turn caused her to have a miscarriage. The bastard arsehole was never seen again. Who knows how many more women he has infected since?

Other infections are not as simple to deal with as early detected chlamydia. I have 4 close friends who have vaginal herpes. One is a lesbian and caught it from oral sex with a woman, the other 3 are all straight and caught it from long term partners. They have all been able to go on to have healthy, normal sex lives with new partners but contracting Herpes was a huge thing for them. Herpes is the cold sore virus. You can get Herpes simplex 1 which typically causes sores around the mouth and herpes simplex 2 which causes sores around the genitals. Herpes is highly contagious and once you have it there is no cure. The sores can disappear but it can be reactivated by triggers such as stress or illness. A herpes break out can make you feel very unwell and so it is important to try to lead a healthy lifestyle after diagnosis. You would think that it would be as easy as simply looking at a dick and not sucking or fucking it if it had big weeping sores on it, but it’s not that simple because the virus can be transmitted even when sores are not active. Usher had a recent scandal where he was being sued by a woman who he apparently passed the herpes infection on to. I posted a meme about it and I received DMs from 11 women telling me that they had contracted herpes. All bar one from a man who they were in a relationship with. All of them had the same story, that it made them feel like pariahs and that they felt worried about informing partners for fear of putting them off. Nobody judges the millions of people who we see walking around with cold sores on their mouths but people are judgemental about genital herpes. They really shouldn’t be.

Partners should not be put off by someone disclosing genital herpes, or any other STI for that matter, they should be happy that they have met someone sensible and responsible who is brave enough to disclose and wise enough to want to protect others. If we continue to stigmatise STI’s then we place ourselves at more risk. If a person thinks that you are going to run off screaming and tell people about their STI status then they are far less likely to tell you. Catching herpes is no different to laying down with a man and catching a cold, it doesn’t mean that the woman is dirty, or that she has slept with a lot of people, or that she presents any long term risk to you, or that you cannot have a fulfilling and healthy sex life. It means that the woman was unfortunate enough to sleep with a man who was too cowardly to disclose his status, do not judge people for telling you theirs, praise them for their willingness to protect you.

The disease with the biggest stigma attached to it is HIV. HIV scares the shit out of me, even though I know that it shouldn’t because HIV positive people in the UK now have access to really good medication, and they can still live long healthy lives, and they can still have sex (If a person with HIV is reacting well to treatment and they get their viral load undetectable then there is very little risk of them passing it on), and have good relationships, but it scares me. It scares me mainly because of the stigma attached to it. It scares me that if I was diagnosed I wouldn’t be able to ever find a man to fall in love with me (which is not true) and that I would feel unwell and mentally fucked up for the rest of my life (which is also not true). But I really, really do not want to ever risk catching HIV. I worked with HIV positive people for a number of years in a social services team supporting people with the disease and I saw people dying of AIDS and it terrified me. I also saw people leading completely normal healthy lives, and that for them it was no different to having diabetes or any other long term health condition. The main problem for most of them were the ill-informed, judgemental reactions of other people. The majority of my clients were gay men, people from certain parts of Africa, and IV drug users, and HIV infection does still mainly affect those groups, but not being in those groups does certainly not mean that you are not at risk.

In my job I encountered many straight young women who had been diagnosed with HIV. I was always fascinated by how they had caught it, I wanted to know whether their partners had been bi-sexual or drug users etc. Mainly they hadn’t. Mainly they were just your average straight man engaging in average sex with average amounts of partners. I met women who had been married for 10 years and had contracted it from their Husbands early on in their relationship without realising and who had not realised because they had never become unwell. I encountered a beautiful young glamour model who had lost her virginity to her older boyfriend and contracted it from him 6 months into their relationship. I met the hottest 28 year old mixed race London man who is a well known raver on the house music scene, and who I probably would have played Russian roulette with if I hadn’t known, who had contracted it from a girl from Manchester while he was on holiday in Ayia Napa several years ago. HIV can happen to anyone, there is no set type, you do not have to fit into a certain category, you do not have to have had multiple partners; you just have to have sex one time with someone who is infected. It’s as simple as that.

I once worked with a woman who had been seeing a guy for a few months and who had told her he had been to the clinic to get tested and that he had the all clear. They had sex for the first time without a condom and just before he climaxed the man stopped and said ‘I am about to cum, but I’m HIV positive, do you want me to stop?’ She said no. I don’t know what she was thinking but she lived to regret it. If you’ve read my blog Sex Sells  about sex work and prostitution then you will have read about a trafficked woman who I worked with who was forced into prostitution in London, her name was Cam. She had to have unprotected sex with numerous men everyday against her will and she contracted HIV as a result. The majority of her punters were married men and the majority did not use condoms when raping her anally or vaginally. Think about this.  How many men must have slept with Cam and then gone home to their wives and girlfriends who are not even thinking about getting tested because they don’t need think they need to, they are in a relationship after all? How many of those women are sitting here right now without any idea that they have HIV?

We need to remove the stigma around HIV because it can happen to anyone at any time, and the more open that people are able to be open about it, then the more likely that they will be able to protect others. I am scared to have an HIV test but I shouldn’t be. HIV is not the death sentence that it was in the 1980’s. We need to break down the myths around HIV and we need people to feel comfortable with disclosing their status to others. It would be so great if people could just casually say that they have HIV or Herpes, or warts or whatever, in the same way that they can say, yeah I have eczema or I have sickle cell, etc. Judging someone for their HIV or infection status is fucking ridiculous, ignorant, and small minded and I would find it hard to be friends with anyone who did. We should all do our best to open our minds and realise that it could happen to any of us, and that should motivate us to protect ourselves even more.

I think I have just completely put myself off sleeping with Louis, or anyone else for that matter. Maybe I could just carry on having my man needs met by hanging out with him and cuddling, but I don’t think he’s going to put up with that for too long, especially because I’ve told him that there is no relationship potential. Or maybe I should actually chill the fuck out and go back to my old frame of mind and just enjoy it, stop over thinking it and have sex with him if I feel like having sex with him. I told you that I was highly confused.  I’ll probably end up staying celibate for years and then finally meet my soul mate and give my precious flower to him only to discover that he’s shit in bed and he’s given me genital warts. Luckily Louis is away for a week in Ibiza now so I have some time to think, but the fact that he is currently in Ibiza makes it even more likely that he’ll have chlamydia the next time I see him, because people get very reckless on holiday (especially in Ibiza) and so maybe that’s my answer right there. Argh, who fucking knows? Life is actually easier when there are no men on the horizon, that doesn’t mean I want the Universe to stop sending them though, I would just appreciate if it sent the right ones. I really don’t know what I’m going to do, but if I catch chlamydia I’ll be sure to let you know.

******OHHHH MYYY GODDDD – I was just about to post this blog when I got a DM from Ryan the flop from Scala. You will not actually believe this, the timing of it. So the last time he messaged me was mid-week to ask me when I had last been tested. He is paranoid because the condom broke, I don’t know how seeing as he was flaccid as a mouldy banana, but he is obviously freaking out about STIs because he has a girlfriend (which I did not know until after our mistake), and I’m assuming he can only put her off from having sex for so long. I told him that I have not had sex for 10 months and that I had been tested the month before I last had sex and it was all clear, but that I had sex once with Callum (who was the same person that I had been tested with before) since my test. I have not had any symptoms in 10 months, and I’ve had a smear (just saying because they might have noticed something possibly). He said that he hoped I didn’t think he was a prick and I said that I did in fact think he was a prick. He said that he thought I might think that and I said:

‘I wasted a whole night with you, and my celibacy, for a semi hard dick attached to a man with a girlfriend. I don’t care how fucked you were. You should have let me go’

Anyway, literally 10 minutes ago he DMd me saying:

‘Clamydia symptoms….heads up so you can go get sorted’

Is he fucking for real? He barely put himself a quarter of an inch inside me and there was no cum, from either party. The fucking cunt. He’s so fucking paranoid about his girlfriend catching him out that he’s creating false symptoms in his head. But the worst fucking thing is that since the second he told me I’ve started to feel like, mad achy in my womb. I swear. I feel like I’ve given myself chlamydia by writing about it so much. FOR FUCKS SAKE. I really don’t think I’ve got chlamydia. I really better not have fucking chlamydia, or I swear on Jeremy Corbyn that I will find Callum and I will castrate him. At least if I do have it I won’t have to call up any people that I’ve slept with since I last got tested. I do not have it. I do not have it. ARGGHHHHH.

I really debated whether to put this in the blog because it is very personal. But then I thought, I’ve just written a whole ranty blog about removing the stigma around STIs and normalising discussions about them and so I really shouldn’t be embarrassed to say ‘This is my experience’. I took a risk, and the anxious wait until I get my results back is the outcome of that risk, and now I’ve got to deal with it like a grown up. A grownup who is going to remain in positive thinking/law of attraction mode throughout this whole saga. And a grownup who is now certainly not going to link Louis. Decision made.