Divorced Kat Swipes Right and Finds Love Again

My one-year anniversary with Rick is tomorrow, which inspired me to write a long-overdue blog entry about my love life.

In 2014, I was at peace with my divorce and ready to find a relationship. Who knows, maybe I would even find love!

After my divorce, I really had no clue about what I wanted from a relationship (other than sex, meaning I wanted some). I dated a mix of men, ranging in age and education and profession. With each man, I gained new insight into what I did and did not want from a relationship. But alas, nothing lasted more than a couple of weeks.

2015 started off promising with Ryan, but he did not want a relationship -- with anyone, period. Blue and single again, I wasted a few weeks seeing Mike, a charming but spoiled d-bag who ultimately just wanted to get laid.

(I believe there's nothing wrong with just getting laid, but I was not looking for just that anymore. I wanted heart.)

A few weeks after ghosting Mike, I was definitely bored and a tad discouraged with dating. However, I still had Tinder on my phone because it's free and a good way to pass the time when standing in line at Target. Out of millions of profiles featuring stupid bathroom selfies and poses with tigers, I swiped right on Rick. He looked cute and normal and he did not have a urinal in his photos.

He later messaged me, "Hello Kat!"

I thought, meh, OK, why not? We chatted through Tinder for a bit, then he asked me to continue the conversation over a drink.

I thought, meh, why not? I agreed to meet him on Monday night for a glass of wine.

I have written before about how you rarely know when
you're in a moment that will change your life. 

This was one of those moments:
I had no idea that I was about to meet the man I would fall in love with.

From the moment we met on April 27, 2015, we were intrigued by one another. I was immediately drawn to his openness, warmth, and honesty. Despite our respective histories of dating flops, booty calls, and heartaches, we both felt something different this time. I think we both believed that the potential for something real was worth risking getting hurt.

I am grateful everyday for our bravery to go after love.

It has been a year (my second longest relationship, behind only the one with Max) and we never run out of stuff to talk about. We are open about absolutely everything, from our past indiscretions to our future aspirations. Rick values my opinion and truly cares about what I have to say. He is still making me laugh and blush just as much as he did a year ago. He makes me feel incredibly sexy and beautiful. And holy shit you guys, I am having the best sex of my life! (Yes, better than The Incredible Sex!) From my heart to my mind to my body, Rick handles me as if I came with an instruction book. So cool.

But sometimes he makes me mad. Unlike in my past relationships, I permit myself to argue with him. Once it's over I am amazed at how good it feels to let myself express those feelings and have him hear me out. (I always used to keep those feelings bottled up nice and tight!) We learn what we can from the argument and move on. No grudges, which is kind of miraculous because I'm awesome at holding grudges.

When Rick holds me,
I close my eyes and caress his skin,
smell his scent,
feel his breath.

I'm content.

I think, this is it. This is love.
This is what everyone wishes for.

(Did I love my ex-husband? Yes, of course I did, and he loved me as best as he could. But frankly what I felt with Max was never like what I feel now.)

And, while Rick and I have been falling more in love everyday, I have been falling for someone else too: his daughter.

For many years, I have not been sure about motherhood. I knew I loved kids, but did not know if I was cut out for such a high-stakes responsibility, especially if I were to go it alone.

Lucky for me, Rick's 10-year-old daughter and I have gotten along incredibly well right from the beginning. I love the role I am playing in her life. Coupling my own opinions and experiences as well as research (The Career Girl's Guide to Being a Stepmom; Love Him, Love His Kids), I am working with Rick to shape my role as his child's potential stepmom. I am so excited (but rather terrified too) about this unexpected move into (step)motherhood.

Like her father, Rick's daughter tells me she loves me and wants to know when the heck I'm going to marry her dad. (All in good time! I tell her.) I don't know how I got so lucky to be compatible with both the man and his daughter.

The best thing about my adoration for Rick and his daughter is the authenticity. I promised to stay true to myself in my next relationship, and I believe that all three of us are being ourselves. Amazing how being true to myself has led to the most awesome love I could've hoped for -- but never expected!

So what is next for us?

I hope we get married. (Can you believe I'm saying this?!)

I hope to officially become a stepmom.

I hope that we create a home that is disciplined but forgiving, honest but considerate, orderly but flexible.

...but I must insist on patience.

I do still have those lingering divorcee fears ("I was wrong once, what if I'm wrong again?). I recognize that it'll be a huge change for all of us to officially live together. And especially since there is a child involved, we need to extra careful that marriage is right for all of us. But I am confident in myself and my love with Rick that we will thoughtfully find the best path for the three of us.

As I reflect on one year with Rick, I am so very blessed to have the love that Rick and I have. It only took 35 years, one divorce, dozens of lame dates, and one life-changing swipe right to find it.

How To Have a Fun, Safe Booty Call... If You Can Handle It

My real life friends and today a Twitter follower ask me:

How does one do a booty call?

I admit to having a fair amount of experience in this area since my sexless marriage ended two years ago. No two booty call arrangements are the same, but they can be super fun, sexually exciting, and even a boost to your self-confidence – if you know the secrets.

Now, before I disclose my secrets to fun, satisfying booty calling, there are a two things we must establish:

• My booty call companions are not Friends With Benefits because I have no idea how those arrangements work. If I’m friends with you, you don’t get to see me naked.  If you are my booty call, you are not my friend. (And I think I could end up with hurt feelings in a Friends With Benefits situation.)
• This is very important: a person is not a suitable booty call companion if you might ever, even a little bit, hope for anything resembling a relationship with this person. You are not dating and, in all likelihood, you never will date your booty call. Be honest with yourself and make sure this is completely acceptable. (Now that you read that, please reread it. Seriously.)

OK? OK. Let’s move on!

My booty call companions have come from various places. Two I met at bars (like Zach). Two were guys I used to date until they bored me but they were good in the sack. One I thought I might want to date then I changed my mind (and I was absolutely certain of this when I changed my mind).  So you can find a booty call in a number of different ways; you just have to make it known that you’re receptive – but be subtle about it. You might be surprised at who else is game for this arrangement.

Now, here are my secrets to successful booty calling.

Single

First and foremost, you and your booty call must both be single. Cheating is not nice. 

If you’re not sure if your potential companion is single, ask directly.  If he says yes, that’s the end of the discussion because it’s game on!

Sexting

Sexting is a fantastic way to build up some anticipation to your hookup.

I had never participated in sexting until two years ago. (Yes, life after divorce has been interesting indeed.) Learning how to flirt and get a little dirty over text is really fun! I like that I learned about this with a guy where I had absolutely nothing to lose.

Sexting tip: if you are going to cross over from sexy words to sexy pictures, never include your face in the photo. As a woman, I have occasionally sent a picture of something like the side of my neck and my bare shoulder. It leaves something to the imagination and you can't see my face. (As a bonus, I can take a picture like that from my couch without changing out of my sweatpants.) Gentlemen, we don't like dick pics. Thanks!

Sober

Admittedly, I haven't always been totally sober when I have made or accepted a booty call. But there's buzzed, and then there's the kind of drunk where it's unsafe and/or going to lead to regrets. A dash of liquid courage might be OK, but not much more than that. Got it? Good!

Safe

You must completely go with your instincts on this one. If anything about being alone with the person does not feel safe, do not proceed. Don’t question yourself, don’t apologize, just stop it.

So let’s say you are feeling frisky and comfortable with the person. If there's even a chance of having sex, BYO condoms. Since my divorce, I have been utterly appalled by how many attractive single men don’t have condoms! Didn't any of these guys take Sex Ed? 

Sex

If you do have sex, again, be safe. A booty call companion has no loyalty to you and vice versa. This person could be sleeping with other people (hell, maybe you are, too). So, condoms FTW.

But, you don’t have to have sex for a booty call to be fun. I have been hooking up off and on with Sean for two years, and we have never had sex. He was great for my self confidence (he was the first man to call me sexy) and for practicing my other moves. I learned a lot about my sexual preferences and talents without ever actually having intercourse.

Sleep

No sleepovers. Period. Sleepovers lead to cuddling, and cuddling is for relationships. Cuddling can also get the oxytocin flowing, which can confuse you about the arrangement with the person who just got you off (hopefully).This person will never be your significant other, so once the fun is over, kick him out or get your ass home.

(This was extra important when a guy I used to date became my booty call.)

Do not confuse yourself or your booty call companion!

Silence 

A booty call arrangement is always temporary and can end anytime. You need to be completely fine with this.

Here’s the thing with booty calling – there is no real predictability. Sometimes you’re arranging to meet up often, and other times you might go months without communicating. Then, you might contact him and he doesn’t reply that night or ever again, or you might pull the same thing with him. Yes, this is acceptable behavior. 

Embrace the silence as freeing you from having to bullshit a friendship or feigning interest in dating when you really just want to get some nookie.

(By the way, you do not get in touch to see how the person is doing or chat about the weather or invite him out for your birthday. That's what friends do, and I'm not talking about Friends With Benefits. Communicate with one purpose: building up to or arranging your next rendezvous.) 

If these tips make  you think:

• “Wow, I would never want to get it on with someone I don’t really know or have feelings for.”
• “This is terrifying. What if I got murdered/kidnapped/contracted a raging STD?!”
• “Kat is weird/secretly a dude/a little slutty.”

Then booty calling (and maybe my blog) is not for you. That’s OK, I’m not offended. Like a booty call, it was fun while it lasted!

On the other hand, if these tips make you think:

• “Wow, this sounds hot and exciting, and all I can emotionally handle.”
• “I haven’t gotten laid in weeks/months/years and I’m going to wear out my vibrator if I don’t do something about it.”
• “The person I went on a few dates with last month but we had nothing in common with might be perfect for this.”

Then booty calling might just be the answer to your sexual needs when you're between relationships. Now go grab yourself a box of condoms and have fun!

What is your opinion on booty calling? A good idea or not worth the risk? Any fun booty call stories to share?

Cards, Candy, and Booze: Why I Love Being Single on Valentine's Day

You don't need a valentine to enjoy Valentine’s Day.

I realized this in high school, and many crushes and flings, two boyfriends, and one (ex) husband later, it’s still true:

Valentine’s Day is best spent single.

When I’m single on Valentine’s Day (which has been the majority of my life), I focus on the good stuff about the contrived holiday:

1. CANDY. I’m big on eating healthy but I have a huge weakness for seasonal candy. Red, white, and pink M&Ms. Heart-shaped Yorks. Conversation hearts. Red Hots. Crappy Russell Stover chocolates. Bring it on! Enjoy for two weeks, and then it’s over for the next 50.
2. CARDS. I absolutely love paper mail, and Valentine’s Day cards are among my favorites to select. They are about expressing gratitude and love for all kinds of relationships, from lovers to grandparents. I can spend hours picking my Valentine’s Day cards. Ever since college, I exchange cards (usually ones with Winnie the Pooh) with my parents and my BFF Ali. My other BFF Sue doesn’t send me a card but she gets one from me anyway because I'm nice like that.
   Beyond these annual card recipients, I sometimes feel the need to remind other loved ones that I'm thinking of them. One year Nora was feeling blue and unlucky in love, so I found her the perfect card that told her how much her friendship means to me. This year is Pete’s first divorced Valentine’s Day, so Pete got a card.
   It truly warms my heart to give my loved ones written expression of my affection for them.
3. BOOZE. I discovered in college that Valentine’s Day is a great excuse to go drinking with your fellow single pals. And, you know, I like drinking and I like friends, so let's raise a glass!

When I was with Max (my only significant other as a grownup), other than having an excuse to buy him a romantic card and eat candy, Valentine’s Day was lame:

1. PRESSURE. This dopey holiday that had no particular significance to us put this pressure on us (well, mainly him) to be romantic. Max was a decent husband, but all in all, not the romantic type (with some exceptions, like how he proposed). And even though my expectations were low, I admit that I was usually disappointed by his lack of effort.
2. RIPOFF. I’m very practical person who’s careful with money. Yes, I love flowers, but flowers on Valentine’s Day are way pricey, not to mention cliché. And yet, several times Max came home with a dozen roses. Red. Obviously. The real downer was that he didn't even seem excited about it -- this bouquet was just something he had to buy. So not only was he unoriginal and unexcited, but he just blew a wad of cash on a flower I don’t even love and that would be it until the next overpriced bouquet a year later.
   (Yikes, do I sound like a super brat??)
3. SEX. Meaning, I didn’t get any. Not getting laid on Valentine’s Day (or, you know, any day) isn’t such a biggie when you’re single. When you’re in a relationship, there’s pressure to perform. If you’ve ever read my blog before, you know I was not getting my freak on, not on February 14th (or 13th or 15th).

This Valentine’s Day, I’m happy to say my four cards are in the recipients’ hands. I have already eaten my conversation hearts and pink M&Ms. I have plans to hit up half price wine night with friends on Friday AND go out for drinks on Saturday because I don’t mess around!

As the second anniversary of my divorce draws near, in all my single glory, I will revel in the love and friendship in my life.

(And perhaps I'll spend a little time with my battery-operated Valentine!)

What do you think about Valentine's Day? Are you marking it this year?

How Do You Cross the Gap From "Dating" to "Relationship"? (Answer: I have no clue.)

I’m really good at first and second dates. Hell, I’m pretty solid on the third date, upon the rare occasion that I have one. I know just enough about current events and sports headlines so I make conversation easy for both of us. I will wear a feminine outfit but I still leave something to the imagination. I smile and laugh just enough without seeming like a bimbo. I’ll totally kiss you but I won’t invite you in.

Fast forward past the awkwardness of meeting each other's best friend and farting in front of each other for the first time....

I’m really good at being a long-term girlfriend/fiancée/wife. I get along with (most) people so you can bring me to family functions or your best friend’s wedding and I’ll be fine. I’ll email your mom. I’ll surprise you with your favorite cookie or a card for no reason. I’ll remind you to get a physical and I will totally understand how stressful playoff football can be.

I’m really not good at the post-first dates but pre-relationship gap. 

On this side I can have first dates and no strings attached sex.
On that side I could get my feelings hurt.
Tough choice.

It’s this thrilling and terrible place where you’re getting genuinely excited about the person you’re seeing while also starting to get more comfortable with him. You start having sex. You might start meeting each other’s friends. Things are uncertain – this seemingly great guy could just disappear (trust me, this BS happens) or we could fall in love someday.

In other words, it’s official: you like this guy (yay!), so your feelings could get hurt (shit!).

The gap is a scary place to be.

I Got Dumped the Last Time I Was in the Gap

In my 17 months of dating since my divorce, I have only gotten into the gap one other time, almost exactly a year ago with Aaron.

We dated for a few weeks. We went out, we stayed in. We laughed a lot. We started sleeping together; it was a very strange experience to have sex with someone I actually liked. Just as we were slipping into the gap, he started losing interest in me or he saw something shiny that he liked more or whatever. Eventually, I had to make him dump me.

I was pretty disappointed at the time, but interestingly I never cried over him. I thought there was Boyfriend Potential there, at least for a couple of months. But of course in hindsight I realize that as sweet and cute and hot in bed as Aaron was, he was just wasn’t it. After that letdown, I took a nice long break from dating to lick my wounds. (I’m a big believer in the post-rejection hiatus from dating.)

Ever since, it's just been casual or only a couple of dates here and there, until I met Ryan in November.

Tumbling into the Gap with Ryan

Ryan (the 44-year-old with no relationship history) and I have been seeing each other for a month but talking for about two months.

In his low key but genuine way, Ryan has made it clear that he likes me, all of me, from my curly hair to my love for my book club to my ability to easily orgasm. We have mutually agreed to monogamy. But, as of the last week or so, as I am realizing that I actually like this guy, I’m getting so insecure (and being mindful to hide it).

It seems illogical to get insecure now. We had a fantastic date on Friday – a romantic dinner, followed by fun drinks at our favorite Irish pub, and concluded with some amazing sex and then falling asleep in each other’s arms. Ahhhh! Awesome. Yesterday, he came over for dinner. I attempted to make Boy Food, which is a little hard for my health-conscious vegetarian cooking. But I came through with macaroni and cheese with a side of roasted broccoli. Then, yeah, more sex. Woohoo!

Shit, I realized on Friday night, I'm back in the gap.

The gap turns me into this neurotic, over analyzing shell of myself. The good news is that I’m able to mostly keep her hidden. But damn does she make me feel nuts!

Plotting My Escape From the Gap

So yeah, the gap scares me and renders me totally annoying. I don’t like it there, even though it could be just part of my journey to finding love again.

Today, when Ryan didn’t text me (he always texts me!), my head was ready to explode as it filled with self doubt. Meanwhile, the 23-year-old texted me (“Want to fool around?” No subtleties there!). Then, one of the hottest guys to EVER show interest in me finally got around to texting me over the weekend and then asked me out today. Yes, both today, and when I hadn’t heard from Ryan.

I could avoid the possibility of getting hurt entirely by accepting the fuck date or the dinner date. Or both...!

I admit that I was tempted. I’m good at being a first date or a fuck buddy – both have lots of laughing and little to no emotional risk.

But wait. What the fuck am I thinking?

Is the risk of getting hurt more powerful than the possibility of finding love? I don't want to be that kind of person. I want to always hope for the best, which means seeking love from platonic and romantic relationships, and, yes, risking getting hurt. 

Based on what I know so far, Ryan is the best match for me of any guy I have dated since my divorce. Hell, based on what I know so far, Ryan is a better match for me than my ex-husband.

I’m not going to chicken out and fuck this up for no good reason. I declined both offers.

I am going to tolerate my quiet hysteria in the gap with the hope that Ryan and I might cross over into Relationship territory. If he is the right match for me and vice versa, we will pass through the gap together. If Ryan (or whoever) is not the right person for me, the sooner that can be revealed to me, the better for both of us, and back I go to being a great first date.

Whew. Did you like the pep talk I just gave myself? And can you please say it back to me the next time I'm being an insecure idiot?!

(By the way, while I was writing this, Ryan texted me.)

Your turn, dear reader! Does my reaction to the gap sound familiar to you or completely nuts? Have you ever considered a little self-sabotage to avoid getting hurt? 

Dating, Getting Dumped, and Having Incredible Sex: My Top 10 Posts of 2014

On this last day of 2014, I thank you for hanging out with me for another year of my life post-divorce, including reliving old pain with my ex, my happy times with friends and family, and my search for hot sex and love, preferably from the same person.

In the grand tradition of all kinds of media at year-end, here's my very own list of my 10 most read posts of 2014.

10. My Return to Online Dating -- Too Dull, Too Exciting, and Just Right

In January, I went full force into the wild world of online dating.

9.  One Year Later: Why I Love My Divorce

I counted my blessings on the first anniversary of my divorce.

8.  Incredible Sex is Turning Me Into an Asshole

I was intoxicated from Incredible Sex with a guy who was wrong, wrong, and more wrong for me. But DAMN the sex was hot...

7.  Keeping Facebook Photos of Your Ex -- Just Documenting the Past or Harming Your Future?

Is it so bad to keep Facebook pics of you and your ex?

6.  What Should A Blogger Do When Her Identity is Revealed?

The guy I was seeing found out about my blog. Shit.

5.  I Want My Ex-Husband When I'm Not Fully Conscious

Ever woken up in the middle of the night and wished your bed weren't empty?

4.  Why Silence Makes Me Scream

Want to break my heart and make me lose my mind? Then, please, don't say a word.

3.  I Got Optimistic About A Guy. Now I Feel Stupid.

Two fantastic dates and then... he disappeared.

2.  7 Steps to Getting Dumped While Still Looking Like a Grownup

If you're going to date, you're going to get dumped sometimes, so here's how I save face.

1.  How to Dump Someone You Aren’t Really Dating

I learned how to nicely dump people after my non-dates because even morons and bad kissers have feelings.


Thank you again for reading, commenting, and sharing your perspectives! A very happy 2015 to you!

Is It Ever Worth It to Recycle a Former Flame?

I always say not to recycle guys, but it’s a hard rule to follow. When a guy you found fun and attractive comes back around saying he regretted how he handled things with you, it’s really hard to say, “Sorry, I only recycle paper, plastic, glass, and aluminum. Men are not available for recycling.”

Let’s talk about Aaron, a guy I recently kind of tried to recycle.

Aaron and I met on OKCupid and dated for about a month last winter. He was cute and fun. He was good in the kitchen and in the bedroom. We were really enjoying dating each other until he stopped enjoying me. (To this day, I don’t know why, but I think he might have met someone else.) He was a wimp about dumping me, which was totally annoying. I get it, a person can get bored of someone or he meets someone else or whatever. Just man up and tell me “thanks but no thanks” so we can both go our separate ways.

Then, a few weeks later, he contacted me to apologize for how things went down with me. I was surprised and accepted the apology. I thought that was that.

Then, late one night in June, I got a text from an unknown number saying we should get together sometime. I had deleted Aaron from my contacts, but not our last text conversation. Still, what the heck? So I wrote back “Sorry, but who is this?” No answer. Ha!

So, when Aaron got in touch with me at the end of my Dating Diet, literally hours after I got back onto OKCupid, I was surprised indeed.

After a few flirty messages, I agreed to meet him for a drink, though I was totally confused why I was even going. Not recycling guys is a thing with me!

I Recycle Aaron for Dating Purposes

Two days later, I was sitting at the bar when he came on to the patio. Shit. He looked even better than I remembered. And shorter. But hot. Blue eyes, sweet smile, and totally jacked body.

The conversation just flowed naturally. He remembered everything about me, too, which was both charming and flattering. (He even asked if I was still blogging!)

Then he went there...

“So, Kat, what brought you back to OKCupid?” Aaron asked.

“I took a break from online dating for a few months, and I thought I’d give it another shot,” I answered truthfully.

“But the real question is why did you contact me?
Why am I here?”

(Hey, he dated me once, he knows I don’t do bullshit.)

Aaron rather sweetly rambled that he had a lot of fun with me and we all do things we regret and he thought I was cool and the sex was good and when he saw me on OKCupid he had to try contacting me.

“Really, you’re mentioning the sex right now?!” I said, eyebrow raised, kind of incredulous but also admiring his honesty.

“Well,” he said, sheepishly grinning, “It was good.”

I shrugged and nodded. Can’t disagree there!

“So I now know that you’re the one who contacted me in June,” I said bluntly.

“Yeah. You deleted my number?!” Aaron said, looking embarrassed.

“Of course I did. I delete anyone who doesn’t deserve a spot in my phone anymore,” I explained simply.

With all of this out of the way, we went back to chatting and flirting. Aaron paid for our drinks, then walked me back to my car. In the garage, he kissed me.  I leaned up against my ex-husband’s car and let him kiss me more. Oh, MAN, I like kissing him. Being the lady I [sometimes] am, I said good night and got in my car.

I started to drive away, then I turned around. I found him walking to his car.

“Aaron!” I called out my window.

Startled, he looked over, then he smiled. He approached my passenger window. I shook my head and beckoned for him to come to my driver’s side window.

“I decided I wasn’t done kissing you,” I said. With a grin, he leaned in and kissed me again.

When I drove away, I was fluttery... kind of. 

I mean, I’d just kissed a hot guy. We flirted and had pretty good conversation. I was post-date smiley… kind of.

But… I was so guarded, and I don’t like being super guarded. I just kept thinking, “This guy dumped me. This guy dumped me. This guy dumped me!”

He promptly asked me out again. (He made me dinner!) And again. And again. All were fun and low key and totally PG.

But the last time that he came over I just knew…
this isn’t my guy. 

I would never get over that he lost interest in me before. More importantly, seven months later, I have a better idea now for what I’m looking for in a guy; as cute and fun as Aaron is, he isn’t quite… enough. It’s hard to explain. Like I could totally picture snuggling with him on my couch and bringing him out my local friends, but I couldn’t imagine ever being at a point where he would come with me to Virginia to meet my brother, sister-in-law, and their kids or Ali and her family. Some level of connection just wasn’t there.

Can I Recycle Aaron for Sex Purposes?

But, you guys know how I am about physical chemistry. I value that shit like nobody’s business. I wondered if I could transform Aaron into my new option for no-strings-attached sex, since I have fully closed the door on Jason and the Incredible Sex (aren't you proud of me?), and Steve, the guy from my building, has kind of disappeared (maybe he got a girlfriend? Good for him!).

I like Aaron and I too remembered the sex being good, so why let him go? When I know the sex is good and My Number doesn’t go up, I’m all for recycling.

So, 24 hours after our last date, I texted him.

Woohoo, I got me a new friend with benefits!

I got to take advantage of this great new set up exactly one time before this shit happened:

12 hours after my fall.

Ninja fight? A fall in a sewer? A car accident on the autobahn? I’ll tell all next week!

What do you think about recycling former flames? Has it ever worked to give someone a second (or third or seventh) chance?

Why Did I Have Sex?

Me. Me. ME!!!!!!!!!!

My pal Yoshi openly stalks my Twitter account and is an avid reader of this blog. So when I was tacky enough to tweet Thursday morning that I’d had sex, I knew Yoshi would want the pre-blog scoop.

Friday night, he had cooked dinner for me and our other friend Summer. Summer is a mom, so after we’d polished of a bottle and a half of wine and the clock struck 10, it was time for her to take off. I knew what was coming: wine and sex talk!

Yoshi poured more wine for both of us and without missing a beat, he said:

“So, Kat. You had sex.”

“I sure did!” I took a swig of wine and smiled at my friend. 

This was not enough of a response for Yoshi. I just liked messing with him.

“With Steve?” he probed, slightly irritated that I wasn't dishing the gossip.

“Yup,” I replied. Then, it was quiet for moment.

“Why?” he asked simply.

Dammit, Yoshi, I wasn’t expecting that question. I don't know if anyone has ever asked me why I had sex!

I thought about it.

Wednesday night, I had gone to Steve’s apartment. I showed up in my finest Mickey Mouse t-shirt and yoga pants. Steve was wearing an FDNY t-shirt and mesh shorts. Yup, we totally dress to impress.

The plan was to just hang out and watch Sharknado (it amuses him that I don't have cable so he recorded it for me). But it was a beautiful night, so we sat outside on his balcony and just talked. About writing. About our professional dreams and disappointments. About porn. About family. Even a little about dating. (Yes, he knows I'm dating other people.) We hardly touched each other as we spoke, I think because we were really listening to each other. Meanwhile, his absolutely adorable dog circled our feet, hopeful for attention. I freaking love that dog.

I was so... comfortable. This guy really respects my mind (and he tells me that I’m hot, so bonus points for him). In that moment on the patio, I looked at Steve and had a flash of “this guy totally feels like my boyfriend.”

And then I looked at his cigarettes. Ewww.

I heard him say he’s “exhausted.” I hate that word and he uses it a lot. Seriously, unless you have an infant or work manual labor, you’re not exhausted. You’re just not. 

I remembered how rarely we see each other outside of our apartment building – that's right folks, we haven’t really gone on a proper date after two months of talking, texting, and hanging out!

Uh, yeah, newsflash, Kat: Steve is, rather unfortunately, unlikely to be my boyfriend.

But… shit, you guys. He’s cute, he's smart, he thinks I'm hot, and he’s a damn good hookup. Oh, the temptation.

He asked me to sleep there. I agreed. Even though I still get weirded out by sleepovers, I felt so good sleeping beside him. It felt right.

We fooled around a little that night, and he actually said at one point, "I wonder what the angel and devil on your shoulders are saying right now." Creepy, right?! (My answer was that both were telling me to have fun!)

And in the morning, we had sex. 

And I was right! We had hot sex!  Hot morning sex!
How the hell was I ever in a sexless relationship? SEX IS AWESOME.
And yes, we used a condom, duh.

(By the way, for all I love to talk and write about sex, I hadn’t had sex in awhile! My last new sexual partner was Aaron back in February, and otherwise I’d only had Incredible Sex with Jason a few times in late May and early June. I was kind of due to get laid, right?!)

I left Steve’s place with morning breath and that stupid "I GOT LAID" smile plastered across my face. No weird emotional stuff. It was fun, I like him as a person, but it felt oddly uncomplicated.

So, back to Yoshi’s question. Why did I have sex with Steve?

“Because I felt like it and I wanted to.”

Sometimes that’s really all there is to it.

Your turn, dear reader. Think about the last time that you had sex. Why did you do it?

See also: 20 Reasons Why People Have Sex.

Avoiding Zombies, Sleepovers, and Guys in Their 20s: My 9 Lessons Learned After A Year of Post-Divorce Dating

A year ago, I ventured into the wild world of dating. It had been almost nine years since I was last single. Holy crap, stuff had changed. Online dating was hardly a thing in 2004. The only social networking site anyone used was Friendster. Texting? Yeah right. People still made phone calls on their Razr flip phones. And, most of all, I was nine years older and reentering the dating world with the experience (baggage) of having been in a sexless relationship with an upstanding guy.

Suffice it to say that shit was really different being on the dating scene again in 2013. But you know what? I’ve loved dating. It’s been fascinating to flirt, approach guys, kiss, screw, reject guys, get rejected. I love observing myself and reflecting on my choices. It’s like I’m opening this whole new side to myself, and, man, does she love dating!

Anyway, an old friend of mine, Pete, is recently divorced and attempting to date, so he’s been checking with me and asking about my dating experience.  So, let’s capture my post-divorce/mid-30s dating experience in this week’s blog entry.

My 9 lessons learned from getting back into dating:

1. Don’t go looking for the next significant other or spouse.
   When you first start dating, just have fun. I had no idea what my taste or desire was, so I just went out with anyone who wasn’t a zombie, bigot, or murderer. Thanks to this approach, I met Jason, the Incredible Sex, who turned out to be the perfect person to help me rediscover my sexual self (without the messiness of emotions) and have peel-me-off-the-ceiling sex.
2. It’s OK to have some requirements for dating – and it’s also OK to actually adhere to them.
   I said last year that I had four basic requirements for dating me, and I’ve violated them time and again. I came up with that list with a clear head. I was on to something, so it’s time to start listening to me! (For example, NO MORE 27-YEAR-OLDS.)
3. Getting dressed up is fun.
   Indulge in yourself and have fun dressing for your date. Whatever your best asset is, own it and flaunt it. I’ve been known to send bathroom selfies to my girlfriends so they can tell me what to wear. After years of not being desired, it felt amazing to dress to be noticed and be called sexy.
4. Sleepovers will be really hard.
   Honestly, I had more trouble with my first sleepovers than my first sex. Sleeping over is so very intimate, so don’t rush it. Waking up (assuming you were able to actually sleep) next to someone who isn’t your former spouse is super weird and pretty sad. I spent my first sleepover staring at the clock and contemplating jumping out the window (being on the 39th floor ruled that out).
5. Don’t recycle.
   Give just about anyone a chance, but only one. If it didn’t work with the person on the first time, it probably won’t on the second, third, or twelfth. (See: me with Jason. Or Todd. Or John.)
6. Deleting numbers from your phone feels good...
   I’m big on deleting people from my phone. After the “we’re not a match for dating” conversation, he’s out of my phone. I like the symbolism of deleting someone.
7. …but deleting doesn’t make people disappear! 
   Every guy I’ve deleted from my phone has reappeared! Yup, Todd, John, Zach, Sean, Aaron. They have all come back. (See Lesson 5.) In most cases I could figure out who it was. The best was when I knew it was Aaron, who dumped me in February, asking me to get together for a drink sometime – at 11 p.m. on a Thursday! – and I responded, “I’m sorry, but who is this?” He didn’t respond, and I think it’s safe to say he’ll never contact me again. Ha!
8. People are weirded out that I might blog about them.
   I’ve learned to keep my blog on the DL. Apparently dates don’t want to be written about. For example, Carl. (Too bad, potential suitors! I’m still going to write about you.)
9. Stay true to you.
   I’ve kept a close watch over myself in this sense. First, I stayed single for a while and enjoyed my own company before jumping into dating. I had never been 33 years old and divorced before, so I had no idea what I was doing when I started dating a year ago. All I knew is that I lost some of myself in my marriage, so I had to make sure that I didn’t let that happen again. Part of the thrill of dating is the unknown, but the thrill doesn’t change that you are you. Don’t try to change to be anything you are not.

Don't go out with this guy.
He could be a bigot.

Most of all, I try to live by my brother’s advice: 

I will not be with someone who needs to be convinced that
he wants to be with me. 

He should see me for who I am and just want to be with me. 

As I’ve said before, Max was far from a perfect husband, but he never needed convincing to be with me. He always felt like he was fortunate to be with me.

I would much rather be single than be with someone who is only “meh” about me.

DATING UPDATE:
I had a second date on Sunday with Nick, a guy I was set up with on a blind date, then tomorrow I’m hanging out with Steve (pointless, but fun), then on Saturday I’m going out with Nick again, and finally next Sunday I’m going out with Andrew, a guy I met last night through a friend. Yup, I like dating. Who knows, one of these days dating might even lead to a boyfriend! And in the meantime, I will keep enjoying my life. I am quite good at being single.

What did you learn about dating after your divorce or breakup?

"Lay With Me So It Doesn't Hurt"

Since the first time I heard the heartbreaking yet sexy Sam Smith song, Stay With Me, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I get that song, you know? I really get it.

Sex with Someone I Loved

I haven’t had sex with love, actual love, in years. It’s a distant memory, but I can still remember the richness, the beauty, the sensuality, of being physically intimate with someone I love. Sex can be painful, ugly, funny, and mindblowing, sometimes all at once. But when you’re having sex with someone you love, it’s all OK because you’re lost in the flood of touch, smell, taste, and emotion.

Years ago, I remember lying in Max’s arms in my fullsize bed. We were sweating on my hand-me-down sheets and the room smelled like sex (in a good way). My head fit into that spot between his shoulder and chin. I kissed his pale Irish skin and whispered into his shoulder, “Bursting.”

“Hmm?” Max mumbled sleepily.

“I’m so happy, I feel so good. I just didn’t know…” I said quietly, as I fumbled for the right words. “It feels like... like I’m bursting.”

He pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head.

“I know,” Max said. “I’m happy too. Love you, Bear.”

God, I miss those days so much that my chest aches and my eyes tear as I write this. I miss that kind of sex. What is more thrilling than the vulnerability of sex with someone you truly care for?

Sex with Someone I Kind Of Like But Not That Much

Since Max, I’ve had three sexual partners as well as a smattering of “special friends.” (By the way, somehow I still haven't had sex with Steve, but oh how the temptation lingers.) I think about Jason and the Incredible Sex in particular when I hear Stay With Me.

I like that I’m in such control of my sex/almost sex life again. I haven’t been really without an option for a hookup since I filed for divorce, which is pretty awesome. I love the honesty of just hooking up with someone and we both know it.

After having my orgasm, part of me wants the guy to disappear. It was just physical; I’ve had my fun, so get out and I’ll go back to my empowered single woman life. I'll beckon when I want more.

But there’s that small part of me that yearns for him to stay, even when I don’t particularly like the guy. This is not the guy for me (JASON) nor will he ever be, but he’s here now and in a moment... I’ll be alone.

"Oh, won't you stay with me?

'Cause you're all I need

This ain't love it's clear to see

But darling, stay with me"

…but I’d never, ever say this to the "special friend."

When I’m alone again, I coolly go back to watching Beverly Hills 90210 or doing laundry or I just fall asleep. Usually, I feel perfectly fine with my choice.

But once in a while, I question my actions.

Why the one night stand? What does it accomplish? What void does it fill that I can’t take care of on my own?

Once in a while, I don’t just want to take my orgasm and run. I want someone to hold me like Max did.

“Lay with me so it doesn’t hurt.”

Do your sexual encounters usually come with emotion? Can you separate emotion from being sexual?

My Great Debate: Should I Have Casual Sex?

This face will totally help me get laid.

Wow, for the first time, since I started my blog, I didn’t write last week. I was too weirded out by the possibility of Carl or his informants reading it.

The bad news is that Carl proved himself to be no different from any of the other 27-year-olds I’ve gone out with. The good news is I can go back to writing whatever I want!

And this time I mean it for really real: 

NO MORE GOING OUT WITH 27-YEAR-OLDS.

I want to tell you all about my time with Carl and the extremely abrupt ending, but I promised him I wouldn’t write about him. Unfortunately for you, dear reader, I keep my promises.

Instead, I’ll tell you about Steve, the 44-year-old in my building. (I was going to put him in the Friend Zone this weekend if things progressed with Carl. Good thing I didn’t do that yet! Single girls need options.)

To Screw or Not Screw, That Is The Question

So, while Carl and I were talking/dating/whatever you call it, I was still talking to Steve. In fact, over July 4th holiday weekend, I spent a lot of time with him… including sleeping at his place and him cooking me breakfast. (My FAVORITE meal! And no one cooks me breakfast!) 

Our very open rapport continued, included me telling him that Jason, the Incredible Sex, sent me a shirtless selfie at 10 a.m. while I was lying in Steve’s bed. Ummm, isn’t that the kind of thing you shouldn’t be telling a guy whose bed you're lying in? Anyway, given the openness, it didn't take long for the conversation to turn to sex. 

Not surprisingly, Steve wanted to have sex with me. (Well, actually, I do still find it a little surprising when men want to have sex, and more specifically, with me. We can thank my ex-husband for that baggage.) You guys, I really, really, REALLY wanted to have sex with him. But dammit I'd told myself not to! 

Enter the Angel / Devil on each shoulder,
each shouting very convincing points in my ears:

Screw: Hells yeah. Ride him.
He’s cute and he’s already skilled at other things in the sack.

Don't Screw: Carl has been texting while I’m with Steve. I like Carl too. I’m being shady.

Screw: Carl and I are in the "talking" phase. We've only kissed.
I can do whatever I want (at least for a little while longer!)

Don't Screw: I promised myself that I’d wait for a relationship to have sex.
(Why oh why did I make that dumb promise?!)
I don’t think Steve will end up being my boyfriend, so not sex-worthy.

Screw: Well, if he’s not going to be my boyfriend anyway, having too-soon-sex isn’t possible and therefore can’t wreck anything, so might as well get it while the getting is good!

Don't Screw: Crap, did I shave my legs today?

Screw: Steve and I connect on some pretty deep topics of conversation, so that makes the sex less cheap.

Don't Screw: If he’s so willing to have sex with me, does he have casual sex a lot? Does he have every STD I ever read about in
 Seventeen magazine and then Cosmo?

Screw: Who the hell am I to judge, I had some casual sex in my early 20s. I miraculously dodged the STD bullets. Maybe he’s clean!

Don't Screw: I haven’t had sex since February with Aaron. Stick to your principles!

(But… I’m lying. I guess I have to count the Incredible Sex I had with Jason in late May and early June. I know, I know, I know! I’m supposed to be staying away from him! And I hadn't had sex with him since January!
But… I don’t know, I was bored and I had no prospects when he started contacting me again. In a two-week moment of weakness I had some sex with him but then stopped.
This confession is how I’ll know which of my real-life friends read this – they are texting me right now saying, “Kat. Jason?! WTF. Cut it out!!”)

In the end, I stuck to my promise to not have sex with Steve. BORING and not that satisfying. Ugggh, I hate having principles!

When was the last time you turned down some ready and willing sex?

See also: 8 Reasons Why Divorced Sex is So Much Better Than Married Sex.

Why Do I Want to Make Out With Some Guys But Not Others? The Mystery of Chemistry!

Why are we drawn to some people and not to others? Why do we instantly feel comfortable with someone we’ve just met or never comfortable with someone we have known for decades? Why are we clamoring to get close to one person and perpetually backing up from another?

Chemistry sure is a curious thing. 

Let’s take a look at the chemistry with three guys I flirted with in the past week.

Yes, please.

Zach, the 22-year-old. Yes, you read that right. He didn’t disappear after my drunk girls' night out a few weeks ago. He was very direct about wanting to see me again, meaning come to my apartment and fool around. Well, I have no other prospects on the horizon, so why not indulge in an emotion-free hook up? He walked into my apartment, and with hardly a hello the making out commenced. Shit, he was so sexy. How does a guy born in 1992 have those kind of moves?! (But I stuck to my annoying No Sex Until We're Dating rule.) Post-orgasms, we were so impressed with ourselves that we actually high-fived. He literally was in my apartment for 35 minutes. What little I saw of his [irrelevant in this situation] personality, he seemed fine, but damn for that physical chemistry.

Chris, who I met through Tinder [yes, I'm trying Tinder!]. I met him for a non-date on Friday. He was smart, polite, nicely dressed, and gainfully employed with a passion for music. Oh and he had an accent for God’s sake! Sounds pretty much perfect, right? We had a very nice time together, and I could feel his interest in me and I just… didn’t. I had no desire to kiss him. I started off flirty, and I could feel myself turning off my (attempt at) charm. He texted me when he got home saying he enjoyed meeting me. I said thank you again for the drinks. He responded saying he’d like to get together again if I were up for it. I didn’t answer, and my fingers are crossed that I don’t hear from him again. I don’t want to tell him I don’t feel the chemistry, because what a bummer!

The 26-year-old who is now 27, so I guess he should have a name: Sean. I ran into him after my non-date, and he’s been booty texting me. He’s still deleted from my phone, but he’s so tempting. There’s a playful sexuality that is exciting with him, even though he's not the best hookup I've had post-divorce.

This sums up Jason and me perfectly!

But the most fascinating person when it comes to chemistry is Jason. No, I’m not talking to him (much to the relief of my friends, particularly Nora and Ali), but when it comes to pure physical chemistry Jason is the winner. But why?! He’s OK looking, but nothing great. Hell, I don’t particularly like him. But OMG, the attraction between us is wild. It truly baffles me. I could see Aaron or Todd, both excellent hookups and both have better looks, personalities, and jobs, but I don’t think I’d have any desire for them anymore. Whereas with Jason, I don’t think I can be near him without wanting to at least kiss him, if not have Incredible Sex. I don’t need porn because I can just think about him!

So now if I could just find a guy who:

• is as smart and put-together as Chris
• with the sex appeal of Zach 
• with the playfulness of Sean 
• with the insane orgasm delivery of Jason

. . . I’ll have my perfect man! I'm trying out Tinder and I reactivated my OKCupid profile, though I'm still hoping to find my next guy through real life. I'll keep you posted on my search!

Have you had these chemistry mysteries? Any fun or disappointing experiments?

Getting Drunk and Awesome Because Sometimes You Have to Party Like It's 2004

I pretend to be a grownup an awful lot of the time. I pay bills on time. I take my vitamins and wear eye cream. I get a haircut every 12-16 weeks, new running sneakers every couple of months, and my teeth cleaned twice a year.  I show up when I say I will and do what I say I will do.

Well, I don’t know about you, but sometimes, I just don’t fucking feel like being a grownup.

In my early 20s, I relished being an excellent student in undergraduate then graduate school and then landing a solid writing job while knowing I could still go out and party. If you knew me from class or work, you probably thought I was just another overachieving tightass. If you knew me from a bar or party, you probably thought I was just another underachieving party girl.

Then I met Max and I grew up the rest of the way. Be gone, party girl!

My therapist has this theory with me that I sometimes do things to tap back into my life before I met Max on my 25th birthday. It is downright creepy how accurate that can be. For example: me on Saturday night.

Saturday night, I was about 21-24 years old for a few hours.

I had plans with my new friend Tina for a girls night out. (Tina lives in my apartment building, so that in itself feels like college!) She came down to get me wearing tight jeans and open-toed shoes even though it’s March. I was wearing my too tight and too short dress and plenty of liquid eyeliner. (The night before I  went to happy hour in my work clothes. Bit of an upgrade.) We looked hot and ready for trouble.

We walked to her friend’s house a block away for a little pregaming action. I don’t know about you, but this 34-year-old never pregames anymore.

Slightly warmed up from our drinks, we walked to a bar I almost never go to – one of those bars where after about 10:15 the DJ starts up and people start dancing and you can’t hear yourself think and you get hit on by guys who will NEVER be your boyfriend. This was exactly what Tina and I had in mind.

Within 30 minutes we did a shot of vodka and obviously took pictures of our sexy selves.

With a glass of wine in hand, as part of my experiment to meet a guy in real life, I practiced talking to strangers. I was pretty good at it, actually. Who knew? In part it was liquid courage, but it was also my knowing that none of these guys would be my boyfriend, so this was just practice for practice’s sake.

As the music got louder, I got drunker on my vino. A decade ago I would have been hitting vodka, beer, or margaritas. Regardless of the booze, some things don't change -- the drunker I got, the more amazing my dancing skills became.

At one point I looked around at the crowd and felt the music and thought, “I never had a night like this when I was with Max. Being divorced is fun sometimes.” I smiled to myself.

Well, the next thing I knew I was dancing or talking or something with this cute guy. Somehow he asked how old I was. He thought I was 25. I told him he was my new best friend. I thought he was mid or late 20s.

He was 22 years old. He was so young that he still had a vertical license meant to show when someone is underage. I had never seen my state’s underage license!

Logically, finding out that we had 12 year age gap meant we started sucking face immediately. He grabbed my hand and dragged me outside behind the bar with the other drunk 20-something-year-olds who were pawing strangers. We started making out like nobody’s business. He was so fresh with his wandering hands. He LOVED how old I was and my ass. I was loving it, but I do remember saying things right out of last week’s blog entry, like:

• “I am not having sex with you. I am not having sex with you!” *more face sucking*
• “I am supposed to be looking for a boyfriend. You’re not it.”
• “I am not bringing you home because I’m not groomed.”
  I ACTUALLY SAID THAT, YOU GUYS.

Eventually we went back inside, danced more, made out more. I’m not sure that I’ve made out with a stranger on a dance floor like that since college and it was ridiculously fun. But the good thing is that unlike when I was in my early 20s, I left the guy at the bar. But I accidentally gave him my phone number. Whoops.

Finally it was closing time. Out on the sidewalk, I waited while my friends got snacks from the grilled cheese truck, so I struck up a conversation with anyone with a pulse, including a couple who might have been homeless. I took a drag on his cigarette (what the hell?!) while he told me he just found out the lady he was with was pregnant and he wasn’t happy about it. I gave him a hug and told him I hoped he would find peace with his situation. Deep.

I walked home fully intoxicated, talking too loud and laughing too much. It was cold but I don’t think any of us noticed. Just like walking home from the bars in my 20s, alcohol keeps my drunk ass warm. I stumbled into my apartment to find texts from my 22-year-old. I pounded a glass of Gatorade and went to bed.

In the morning, I was 34 again. 

I woke up with a miraculously only moderate headache and red wine stains on my forehead, hands, and dress. I washed the wine off my face. I threw my dress in the washing machine, made breakfast, then cleaned my apartment. If I were 24, I would have been hanging over a toilet during commercial breaks of a Lifetime movie, not vacuuming.

Then the 22-year-old texted, asking/demanding to see me. Dammit! I just cleansed my phone of people like him! I admit it, I was so tempted to keep him around. But I was 34 again, so I responded, “Last night was fun but the moment has passed.” And Tina had a good point -- the kid is 22, so how good could be in the sack anyway? Sigh. Farewell cute boy who went to prom the year I got married!

So, you see, I can take a break from being a grownup for a night and return to getting my oil changed and filing my taxes. I love that my life allows this.

Do you ever you act younger after your divorce?

Why I'm Screwed Up: A Brief History of My Sexual Partners

I’ve never had an adult relationship that had both sex AND emotion in proper proportion. Yup, I’m 34-years-old and I don’t remember how to care about a guy and also have sex with him.

I realized this on the first anniversary of my divorce and tears filled my eyes. It was five days after Aaron and I had sex for the first time. 

The more I thought about it, the more I had trouble remembering a time when I had meaningful, lasting sex with, well, anyone in the past decade or so.

Let’s attempt to break down my sexual past and see why I'm screwed up.

Dave – I lost my virginity when I was 18 years old, the summer before I left for college. My boyfriend, Dave, and I were madly, adorably in love with each other. Unfortunately I wasn’t entirely sure I lost my virginity because it was over so fast. (By the way, I doubt I was a good lay either.)  

Random guys in college and into my early-mid 20s – There were kind of a lot of these. I’m not proud of it, but whatever. If nothing else it meant I was super fun to have breakfast with because I had ridiculous stories. For example:

“You guys, I seriously thought about jumping out the window so no one would see me leaving his room. Do you think I would survive jumping out the third floor window? I might’ve tried if it weren’t for this hangover. I probably would’ve barfed on myself on the way down.”

If I remember correctly, and I probably don’t, I think these encounters were always one-time only occurrences. What can I say, I never had a boyfriend in college, and this girl has needs! (Bear in mind that I didn’t discover masturbation until last  year.) Miraculously, I never got attacked or mugged or contracted an STD. 

Dan – I dated Dan for about four months when I was in grad school. He was smart, sweet, and sexy, and definitely more into me than I was in to him. I held him at arm’s length emotionally because we would be going our separate ways after graduation. But that didn’t stop us from having some pretty decent sex. He was the first guy I slept with regularly since Dan. The next one wouldn't come until Max, two years later.

A few more random guys. For example, the guy whose name I didn't know.

Ivan – Ugh, I hate to even tell you about this experience. Ivan was emotionally manipulative and knew exactly what to  say to break down my walls. He sensed my insecurities and made me forget about them. We dated for six weeks when I was 24 and I fell head over heels for this joker. (So embarrassing.) We had sex once or twice and then he dumped my ass like a bad habit. While he was dumping me and I was a blubbering mess, he actually told me that the next time he had sex with someone, he would make sure that he really cared about her first. Uh, thanks. Glad you have that plan in place. I felt used and stupid.

Max – The first year we were dating, I fell in love with him. I was 25 years old and I embraced being completely vulnerable with a man for the first time. I loved how Max smelled, how he wrapped his arms around me, how his hands felt on my skin. I loved being held afterward as we had those talks that can only happen in that precious space after sex. For the first time -- but only for a short time -- I truly connected sex and love, and it was intoxicating.

But, as you well know, this time was very, very short lived. After the first year, our sex life was never normal again. For the next six years, it was infrequent and eventually non-existent. Sex stressed him out so he always seemed to be biding his time until I would orgasm one time and then roll off of him. Sex was no longer a way to show love for each other, but rather a source of pain, rejection, and conflict. 

If this wouldn't screw with your head and heart, you're a much stronger person than I am!

Cheater – Desperate to get laid after no sex of any kind for three years, I had sex with a guy who I knew had a girlfriend. (I didn't know him or her, but still. Yuck.) I completely removed emotion and went for it. I am proud that I never cheated on Max, but somehow I was fine with being The Other Woman for one night because it was Just Sex.

Jason – Sure, I liked him in the beginning, but he was always my Mr. Right Now. Once I dumped him, I viewed him as my sexual plaything. It was kind of amazing how I could just turn off any semblance of emotion I once had for him. As a result, I realized Incredible Sex was turning me into an asshole.

I'm not so great at math, but I would say I've only had something resembling feelings for about 12% of my partners. Hmmm. A little depressing, no?

Now my sexual past is impacting my sexual present.

With all of this in mind, I think it's safe to say I’m dating Aaron. We have gone out to dinner and to the movies (Frozen!) and last week I met some of his friends. We have stayed in and cooked and watched movies and drank wine. All normal dating things, right?

So here’s where I get FREAKED OUT. (Don’t tell him I get freaked out – I’m hiding my crazy on this one.)

I don’t know how to have sex with someone I like. 

Well, I do, because I am, but I am so unsure of everything! I have no clue how much sex is expected when you’re dating. Do I want too much? or not enough? And is it OK to talk or text about it? or do "nice girls" not do that? Is it normal for me to get really into the sex or am I supposed to be more subdued and gradually show my real sexual self? It’s almost like I don’t understand how I can like a guy AND have hot sex… can the two actually go together?!

You guys, I’m a grown-ass lady but this realization made me feel like a Cosmo-reading teen or something. For a flash, I bitterly thought, “Thanks for fucking me up, Max.” And with that, I shook it off and emailed my therapist to set up my first appointment in months. We’ve got some work to do!

Did you have trouble adjusting to allowing sex and emotion to go together after a hard breakup?

See also: 8 Reasons Divorced Sex Is So Much Better Than Married Sex