I am more or less the same age as the author, very similar educational background and - going out on a limb - if we are talking in terms of numbers of, ahem, notches on bedposts, I'm pretty much there too. So, a lot to identify with from the outset. She's attractive, intelligent, articulate - probably like you and me.
I am going to link to the blurb on her website that explains her motivations in doing this because it neatly encapsulates what the book is about. Obviously, her situation differed to mine in that she willingly chose to go without sex for a year (*I didn't choose) but her experience threw up so many similarities to my own - including some unexpected positive aspects too.
I totally identified with her desire to cover up, to somehow instinctively shroud one's femininity, as did I her observation that sex has a tendency to become 'taken for granted' in its own way - to lose its 'specialness'. Also, the very pertinent fact that just because you aren't having sex, it doesn't mean that you are not a sexual or sensual person...and that going without heightens your senses in the most surprising way.
Perhaps most surprisingly though, and talking now as a woman who has emerged from that sexless relationship and is looking forward to the future, I also strongly identify with the positive aspects to be gained from the experience. At heart, I'm an optimist and a toughie and it's very important for me to learn from this experience, good and bad.
So, really, the point I am trying to make here is that yes, being in a sexless relationship (especially when you haven't wanted to be) is bl**dy awful, but without being a Pollyanna about it...it can force you to re-evaluate your attitude to your own sexuality and most importantly, see afresh your value as a woman.
For me, the lesson I have learned is that sex is hugely important to me within the context of a loving relationship (or even just for its own sake/mutual enjoyment and sensual pleasure) and that sexual compatibility is a fundamental prerequisite, and not a 'maybe' or 'it'll probably get better in time'. I'm not saying that sex has some kind of mystical, holy value....or worse, that I'm some kind of religious nut, tub-thumper or born again virgin, but nevertheless, I value myself enough to know that sex with me is worth something.
Maybe this is a fundamentally female way of looking at this (I don't know) but in part this goes some way to explain why, even now when I guess I could (because I'm no longer in a relationship), the thought of just sh*gging my way around SW London or going out looking for random sh*gs just doesn't appeal. I want something more 'meaningful'....not necessarily 'love' or a deep 'emotional' connection but something more than it just being the inevitable ending to a night out. It's going to be on my terms.
Buy 'Chastened' the book on Amazon.
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