Divorce Gave Me The Chance to Finally Have Great Sex Again

Today, I am more sexually empowered than ever before.

Courtesy of Stacey Freeman

When you marry your high school sweetheart and the only person you've ever had sex with, at some point your mind may begin to wander, no matter how innocently. Mine did.

Although I wasn't a virgin when I got married, I always wondered – even back in high school and long before my wedding day – what sex would be like with someone else. But I valued our relationship too much to consider voicing this, fearful that experimentation and exploration could lead to a breakup. So I stifled my curiosity, believing it would never get the best of me.

After 16 years of marriage, my husband found someone else. In all fairness to him, I don't think he went in search of sex but, rather, an emotional connection coupled with sex, something he wasn't getting from me.

In addition to us not getting along for years, at the time we were living on opposite sides of the world after my husband's decision to relocate two years earlier to Hong Kong – a move I was neither happy about nor supported. I had already lived there with him for nearly three years when our children were small and didn't want to go back for good. Though I was aware he was feeling emotionally and sexually neglected (like I was), I was naive to believe both of us would remain faithful under such circumstances – even despite our disdain for infidelity.

I cannot say that I blame my husband for moving on, which I did plenty when I found out. I was pissed. At first, I thought it was because I loved him that much. I did, but not in the "I want to rip your clothes off" kind of way. Not since he had become so consumed with his career and I had become so consumed with raising our three children – each of us forgetting about one another's emotional and physical needs along the way.

Four-and-a-half years after my separation, I understand my anger stemmed from a bruised ego more than anything else.

And who is this "other woman" that rescued me from sexual monotony? Today, she's my ex-husband's second wife. Without her, I would have likely stayed in my sexual slumber much longer, perhaps indefinitely, until death did us part.

My husband and I officially called it quits on a Sunday. After I had spent three grueling months pleading, crying, vomiting, hating him, and hating myself, I was relieved the end had finally come.

Exactly one week later, I was in another man's bed, someone I'd met online.

But having sex that afternoon wasn't purely about satisfying my physical needs. It was about satisfying my desire to connect with someone emotionally, even briefly, while having sex.

We saw each other many times after but parted ways when the relationship didn't progress as I had hoped. Devastating at first, his denial of exclusivity was the gift I never anticipated it to be.

I moved on to other men. Some became "boyfriends," some did not. Some were "good" in bed. More were not. There was the guy who didn't last long enough (sigh), and the guy who lasted too long (double sigh). There was the guy who was selfish in bed, and the guy who wasn't a selfish enough "guy" in bed. There was the guy who physically hurt me (somewhere there's a construction site longing for him and his jackhammer), and the guy who didn't physically hurt me enough ("Pull my hair, baby...").

Still, the newness, the excitement, and, most of all, the potential made the "not so good" sex all worthwhile.

Now, as a middle-aged, single woman, I can honestly say I love having sex.

And then there was the guy I wanted to devour, the same guy who helped me realize I still hadn't found my guy, the guy who could give me great sex and the intimacy I craved.

When I first separated, I immediately went in search of a monogamous relationship, without realizing that it may not be what I wanted yet or, more importantly, what I was ready to have. Looking back, it wasn't.

Having sex with different partners, in the context of commitment and outside of it, I have gotten to know more about myself than the men I have been with. I am a sexual person. What I enjoy more than the physical aspect of it is the connection I feel when I am having sex – even if that connection is a new or temporary one. I take comfort in the idea that for at least a few fleeting moments we are sharing something special or unique between us.

I have gotten to know more about the men I have been with, too. I believe how a man treats you in bed is akin to how he will treat you in life. So far, I haven't been wrong.

Today, three years post-divorce, my ex-husband and I have what I like to call a "working relationship," one that is almost exclusively focused on matters that pertain to our kids. I said almost. Our interactions are largely reminiscent of how our marriage was – comprised of cordial conversations with a smattering of disputes over not-so-pressing issues that blow over quickly. I sometimes ask for his opinion, and sometimes he asks for mine. We get along.

As a middle-aged, single woman, I can honestly say I love having sex. What I love even more is that, at 43, I am more sexually experienced, empowered and comfortable with my body and emotions than I have been in my entire life, making divorce the source of my pleasure where it was once my pain.

Advertisement - Continue Reading Below
More From Modern Divorce


Этот авторитетный web-сайт , он рассказывает про best-mining.com.ua.