Idon’t see the point of sex without an emotional connection (otherwise, why not just get yourself off?), and I’ve never been able to find someone with whom I’ve felt a connection who’s been interested in having sex with me. This is not what I’d ever intended or expected.
I was a Christian who didn’t believe in sex outside marriage, a position I held until my early 30s, sure that I’d find “the one” eventually. My weight was a strike against me, as were my intelligence and career, knocking out of contention men who wanted to be the superior earner. In my 30s, I lived with a man, but we were never in an official relationship and, despite sharing a bed, never had sex. In my 40s, I did the previously unthinkable and asked a couple of single men I’d known for at least a year and with whom I got along well – and was declined.
Several friends have assumed I’m a lesbian. Given my lack of luck with men, I thought about it but, after a few months of “checking out the market”, concluded that I simply wasn’t attracted to women.
These days, the men interested in me are in their upper 60s. Many seem more interested in a person still earning a wage to augment their pensions than in a romantic partner.
The worst thing is when people tell me I’m too choosy, including random men who proposition me at 2.30am as the bars are closing, and become obnoxious when I decline. To those who think I need to get rid of the impractical, old-fashioned idea of “feeling a connection”, I say to each their own. I’d like to lose my V card, but I’m not desperate enough to sell myself short.