Hot Sex With a Gorgeous Irishman Triggered My Codependency

Back to the goddamn drawing board

I hardly ever have sex these days.

Since my post-divorce (abusive) relationship ended almost four years ago, I’ve probably had sex around ten times with two different partners.

That’s an average of 2.5 times a year. A pretty sad average for someone like me who absolutely loves sex and intimacy.

Part of my codependency recovery since ending my abusive relationship, was to quieten down on the sex and dating front.

After my divorce, I developed a sex and love addiction which stemmed from being the adult child of an alcoholic and drug abuser.

I’d done so well over the last four years to keep my obsessive love addiction under control. The two partners I’ve had were both casual, and I felt no attachment at all to either of them.

Both were a physically beneficial situation between two consenting adults.

End of story.

Six weeks ago I went overseas for a trip on my own, part business and part vacation.

I said to myself before I left that it would be great to have a holiday fling, maybe just a one night stand with a handsome stranger. I hadn’t had sex for about eight months and it was feeling around the right time to get back on the horse, so to speak.

After two weeks travelling and meeting a lot of people, I still hadn’t met anyone that I found attractive. I resigned myself to having to go home without the experience I was hoping for.

The universe had other plans.

Two days before I flew out, I went on a three day camping tour in a group of ten people.

As soon as I got onto the bus, I was introduced to a gorgeous man from Ireland. Recently divorced, three young children back home, tall, dark, handsome, funny and kind. Ten years my junior.

I had a fleeting thought that I would love him to be my holiday fling, but I figured it would never happen. I was ten years older and dressed to hike for two days. No makeup, activewear and runners, no chance of being alluring, or so I thought.

From the first day he seemed to always be by my side. We spent the first night on our own around the campfire until midnight after everyone had gone to bed. Talking, sharing stories about our divorces, our kids, our dreams for the future, laughing and listening to music.

I still didn’t think much of it. I knew that I found him extremely attractive, but I still didn’t think that it was more than just two people who had hit it off.

On the last night when we made it back into the city, he asked me if I wanted to spend our final night together before we both flew home. I was suprised but ecstatic. I agreed and we had an amazing night together.

The sex was great for me. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. We cuddled and told each other all the things that we were attracted to in each other.

Before he left, we agreed to stay connected on social media. He kissed me and then left to go back to his hotel and get ready for his flight back to Ireland early the next morning. When he got back to his hotel he messaged me to say goodnight with a love heart which I reciprocated.

I had an amazing time and I felt blessed to have met a wonderful, safe and caring guy to have a great night with. I didn’t expect anything more than what we had shared.

The next day I thought about him as I got ready for my own flight home. I didn’t message him as I wanted to play it cool. I thought that I would hear from him, at least just to say goodbye and wish me a good trip home.

You know, gentlemanly manners.

Nothing. Zip. Nada. Crickets.

For a whole week.

Now, for anyone who is not a recovering love addict, this may not be an issue. Just a one night stand, leave it there, move on. Just a great memory.

But for me?

Complete obsession and overthinking kicked in.

What happened?

What did I do wrong?

Did he not enjoy himself?

Did I say something offensive?

Or the worst one…..

Was I just used for a quick fuck? (Cringe, cringe, cringe!)

The problem was that when I thought that I might like to have a holiday fling, I wasn’t thinking of connecting with a person over a three day period. Getting to know them, falling a little for them as a person. It was meant to be purely physical.

Unfortunately, this one was more than just physical, I had tipped over into emotional, which is where I start to idealize, fantasize and eventually obsess.

I white-knuckled it out for a week, determined not to reach out. I told myself that was the old me, the one who needed external validation to feel good about myself.

On day seven, I couldn’t take it any more and I sent him a quick message to ask him how his flight home had been.

Again, crickets.

My obsession became worse. I couldn’t believe that he wasn’t the stand up guy I thought he was.

Instead of being pissed off at him and disgusted, I turned it all onto myself and started to internalize shame and negative self talk.

I wasn’t pretty enough. I was too old. He was regretting sleeping with me. He didn’t enjoy it at all. I was an idiot. A fool. Pathetic.

The inner critic came out in full force and started to devour me.

All my recovery, all the hard work, down the drain after one experience. I felt as though I was back to square one!

He eventually messaged me back nearly two weeks after he’d read my message.

Of course he answered as if he had only just received it. He couldn’t have sounded less interested.

He did ask to connect with me on social media, but I think it was just a tactic to make himself feel better for not technically ghosting, and it was a low stakes way to look as though he wanted to stay in touch.

What should have been a beautiful memory and an exciting experience to end the holiday, ended up fucking with me emotionally and mentally.

One message is all it would have taken to make me feel as though he had a great time and would also think fondly of our night together as we went back to our separate lives halfway around the world from each other.

Instead, I’m back to my books and recovery strategies, and I’ve even reached out to a coach who specialises in love addiction.

Regardless of why he never reached out to me, the fact that it knocked me so hard and sent me into a tailspin of negative self-talk and feelings of low self-worth is what is really at the heart of the problem.

If this is STILL how I act when I genuinely feel attached to someone, I’m screwed!

I have to get this codependent bullshit under control once and for all.

So, I’m back to the drawing board.

Recovery is a bitch!

If you found this mildly interesting, you may like some of my other musings…