Sex Healed Me After My Divorce

The more the better was my motto.

There’s nothing that says “I’m over you” like going to bed with someone else after your divorce. Sometimes there’s nothing else that a woman can do to get over a broken heart than to have sex with another man — or even many. Yes, sometimes it really is necessary to take a new lover as a means to banish the memory of an old one from your mind. I should know. I went on a sexual odyssey after my divorce, and it helped me heal from it.

Thanks to a famous dating app, I literally had the sadness of my divorce fucked right out of me. I don’t recommend my method for all women. I’d be the first one to say please don’t take my advice! And yet here I am, offering up my experience as a means to show how I got over my divorce: through sex — and lots of it.

I wanted to whet a vagina that had been almost dormant for the last months of my marriage. And that’s exactly what I did. Manifold.

I still remember the first man I went to bed with following my separation. Before this, I hadn’t had sex in two years. Well, let’s amend that: I hadn’t had good sex in two years. Sure, my husband and I had sex sporadically during the last twenty-four months of our marriage, but for the most part, it was maintenance sex — sex that we had just to keep the marriage together.

In short, it wasn’t mind-blowing.

I lost connection with my body. Yes, I was the one who finally initiated the divorce, but still, it sent me into chaos. What was I going to do now? How would my life end up? How was I going to fend on my own? Would our kids be okay? Would I?

These were questions I still had to answer, but in the short term, I knew what I wanted: sex. I wanted to blow air back into my once suffocated lungs. I wanted to whet a vagina that had been almost dormant for the last months of my marriage. And that’s exactly what I did. Manifold.

Here I was, a newly divorced woman, being made love to by a man for the first time in what felt like eons. You know what I mean. Being made love to feels different. It isn’t just sex. It means a man takes his time with your body. He tantalizes your exogenous zones. He blows your effing mind. That kind of sex.

And, no, this man wasn’t even close to being Mr. Right. He was Mr. Wrong in so many ways, but what he did give me was hope — hope that I would find another man to love again.

The point was I got out there, met men, and made myself feel alive again.

I took a different attitude to online dating than a lot of divorcées do. I wasn’t looking for men to commit to. I was looking for men for fun. Had I only wanted a man with all the qualities I needed for a commitment, well, I would have been very disappointed. This is what I’ve heard from so many divorced women. “Oh, I just swipe left over and over. None of these guys are right for me.”

And…so what?

I chatted with guys who were cute and charming enough to invite me out. We met up for coffee or drinks or dinner. Good conversation was had. Connections were made. Sometimes we went to bed together. Sometimes the sex was great. Sometimes it was good. Sometimes it was bad. Sometimes I wanted to see these men again. Sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes they didn’t want to see me again either. That wasn’t the point. The point was I got out there, met men, and made myself feel alive again.

After my divorce I had a choice: I could continue to whittle away as a person or I could thrive. I decided on the latter.

Marriage and children have a way of making you feel older than you are. Children are energy-sapping. To afford them you have to work like crazy. Keeping your kids disciplined is a test for even the most dedicated parent. You’re so busy that passion can’t help but drain from your marriage. In my case, add in the fact that my ex also had major problems. Work meant taking care of him as well. My body ached from the stress of living with him, of dealing with his insanity, while also trying to bring up two small children. And then my body also actually ached from the real physical stress of taking care of two kids and keeping a household going.

I was beat, physically and emotionally. After my divorce I had a choice: I could continue to whittle away as a person or I could thrive. I decided on the latter.

Going out on dates made me feel alive again. I got to take time off from my children and get to know myself again. I regained a piece of my independence. And I ran with it.

I went to concerts and bars, parks and beaches, markets and art exhibits, all with the men I met. I saw parts of the city I never would have seen had I stayed in my comfortable bubble. Dating after my divorce was the closest I’ve gotten to feeling young again. I’ll never forget when one of the men I met asked what I did in my free time.

“This,” I answered.

I could have rode rescue horses. I could have hiked the Appalachian Trail. I chose to have sex.

I know a lot of women aren’t like me. I know many women need to feel a deeper connection to a man if they’re going to be intimate with him. A lot of women are only looking for a long-term commitment after their divorce. And there are those women who are just done with it — they don’t want anything to do with men after their marriage fails.

I could have been like that. And there is any number of other things I could have done instead of dating to get over my divorce. I could have gone on a yoga retreat. I could have adopted a foster child. I could have ridden rescue horses. I could have hiked the Appalachian Trail. Instead, I chose to have sex.

Marvin Gaye was onto something, people.

I know a woman who’s been divorced from her husband for eight years. She still pines for him. She can’t let go. She wishes they could get back together. She says she still loves him even though he’s with a new woman. She keeps hoping something, anything will make him come back to her. They have two kids together. Sure, it hurts to get dumped by the father of your children. I didn’t even have the heart to tell her “you were cast aside; your ex is never coming back.” There are things you can’t say to a person even if it’s what they need to hear.

I keep my opinions to myself, lend a good ear and listen. But I sometimes wish I could say more than just the truth. I wish I could say:

You know what you need? You need to fuck your way through the city.

I know that telling this woman this would upset her. It’s not what she wants to hear. She wants to hear that if she just continues to be patient, her ex will come back to her. He won’t. I wish I could just tell her this. I also wish I could say:

Go get fucked, for godsakes. Go find a man to have sex with. Hell, go find a few. Go find many.

For my part, I’m glad I took action and stopped waiting for other people to change. I decided to change myself, and I was reborn. Strangely enough, sampling this city’s men was one of the ways I achieved this.