I’m Bored with Sex

But don’t worry — this is a good thing

I had a funny feeling as I sat down to write one of my twice-weekly sex articles. I realized I’m bored with sex.

Of course, that made me laugh — genuinely. Oh goodness. The author of Howl is bored with sex. Great.

But I keep a humorous perspective on it because I know this boredom means something.

I know that because I’ve learned a lot about sexuality and most definitely my own sexuality in the past year — up to and including the fact that yes, we sometimes get bored with sex. There are all kinds of reasons that I understood to be true about that — for instance, being with the same partner for a very long time and letting the relationship get stuck in a rut.

As it turns out, though, there are all kinds of reasons why we might find ourselves becoming bored with sex. Here are some of mine:

Reaching a crossroads

I knew that sharing my sexuality in this very public way was a risk. And yet this is exactly the forum I needed in which to do it. I was so deeply oppressed in this area of my life that I literally needed an a-bomb to disrupt the inertia, to shatter the calcification, to blast down the walls I’d put up around myself.

I have no regrets that I’ve posted nude photos on Twitter and my website. I have no regrets that I’ve sold and am selling nude portraits. I have no regrets (except for one) that I’ve spoken so explicitly about my sexual experiences and desires.

I genuinely needed to lay myself bare. This was part of my healing process.

Though my journey is not over and I don’t plan on changing course in any major way, I find that I no longer feel this deep need to bare every part of me and my life. I dropped the a-bomb already. Now it’s time to work with the space I’ve created.

Some of this boredom is simply me discerning that I’ve reached a small crossroads in my journey. I know this boredom is a signal to me that it’s time to determine what lights my fire, now that I’ve gotten to this point. Where is my passion? Which path shall I take next?

Overexposure

I know some of you might find this sacrilegious, but I’m going to say it anyways: sometimes, there can be too much of a good thing. Even when it comes to sex.

When I first started here, I exclusively wrote about sex and that was my plan going forth. I laugh to think of that now. My resolve lasted about a month.

I got bored so quickly only writing about sex. For me, it’s like watching porn for hours. Hell, even for one hour. I get bored really fast with that. Eventually, I’m like, Let’s just get off and move on, already. I have things to do!

That doesn’t mean there aren’t times when I want to dive super deeply. Get a new lover in my bed and only my need for a daily chocolate square would coax me out again.

But eventually, I’ll want to get in some writing. And take a walk. And do yoga. And be by myself for a little while.

Yes, I’m a woman in her 40s who has been shocked to find that middle age has turned her into a nymphomaniac (I’m kidding…though it is, let’s say, an intense time), but I don’t actually want sex all the time. I don’t even want to think about it all the time. Who does?

The problem with writing about sex is that your workspace is filled with it 24/7. I eventually had to turn off all push notifications from Medium because I was getting 3–4 a day with titles like Fuck Her Up the Ass So Hard Your Dick Hits Her Tonsils, and I Wanna Tap My Boyfriend’s Balls so I Can Drink His Cum All Day. (Oh relax, I’m poking fun at all of us.)

The workspace, the research, the deadlines… For sex writers, sex can literally become work and that is bor-ing. Sometimes, we need to get away from it all so we can re-inspire ourselves.

Personal growth

When I first started writing about sex, I did it for a very explicit reason. My spiritual and emotional growth literally demanded it.

I had hidden my sexuality away for most of my life, trying so hard to be a good girl. For me, that meant being a modest mother figure in everyday life, but a wanton slut in the bedroom with my partner.

This seemed like a good plan, in theory. This was what I was taught the world expected of me, as a woman. Yet nothing I did in my everyday life seemed to fit into the right mold. You’re either too sexy or not sexy enough. You’re either boring in the bedroom or your moral character gets questioned if you express too much of your desire.

I could not find my way in it.

Add to that an event that devastated my self-esteem in ways I could never have dreamed: being left for a woman almost 20 years younger than I am. I honestly never thought I would be able to see myself as a sexual being again.

But over the years of my self-made purgatory, years in which I felt like a clay figure, dried and cracked and hollow, I began to feel myself filling with the energy of desire. Not desire for sex — I’d never lost that — but a desire to express myself sexually. To see myself as a sexual being. To animate myself through my sexuality.

And so I followed the force of this energy.

It led me to write about sex. To share my deep pain and shame around my sexuality. To take sexy photographs of myself. To take nude photographs of myself. To reveal every imperfection to the entire world. To state my desires clearly. To open myself to wanting more.

Now I have discovered that there is so much that I still want. I have discovered that I can work my way out of shame and pain. I have discovered that (in the right setting, with the right lighting and angles) I can appear sexy. (Sometimes.)

I’ve found myself — my sexuality — and I’ve taken a solid hold of it. Finally. But some of these things I no longer feel the need to explore so deeply, so frequently. I now wonder, what is next for me? Because believe it or not, I’m bored with taking scantily-clad photos of myself in the woods.

(See, I told you I was poking fun at myself, too.)

So, yeah. I’m bored with sex. Well, not literally. My sexual habits haven’t changed a bit. I’m not actually bored with my own sex life, with my own orgasms, with my own sexual behavior.

But I’m a bit bored with the way I express my sexuality. I’m a bit bored with the way I talk about it. I’m bit bored with the way I approach it.

I don’t know what’s next. I think I want to go deeper, but I’m not sure what that means or what it looks like yet.

I also think about balance and how important it is for me to strive for some level of that in my own work and life (which is not necessarily a need for others). I need more sexual power in some of my not-so-sexual work and maybe less sexuality in other areas.

All in all, I think boredom in sex is great. Truly. It is a signal from the most primal part of ourselves telling us we need to change course. Not necessarily find a new road entirely, but some change, on some level, must be made.

And a little change to honor our sexuality is most definitely worth it.

© Yael Wolfe 2020