I haven’t had sex in three years - help!

In this instalment of our bi-weekly Answer Phone, famously ex-celibate Honey Wyatt advises a reader about getting over their nerves when starting to have sex again after three years, from reflecting on what you like during sex, to communicating with your partner. 

Dear reader, 

You’ve come to the right place. While I achieved half the amount of time as you, I too had a celibacy period that gradually generated a lot of anxiety around how the fuck I would get back into sex. Being out of practice with anything puts you in a vulnerable position; combine that with the awkwardness that comes with sleeping with someone for the first time, and it can feel overwhelming. 

Thankfully, you are in the position of wanting to end your celibacy, and knowing who with, rather than looking out into a grizzly grey sea of mediocre options and psyching yourself up to dive in. Knowing that you don’t need to worry about that, you can examine what about getting back into sex is at the root of your nerves. Are you concerned you’re not going to know what to do? That you’ll feel awkward or uncomfortable? 

Though I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to think about this, try to unpack the sex you have had and separate them by what made them pleasurable versus uncomfortable or outright terrible. Once you’ve done this, you’ll know what your expectations are when it comes to sex with someone else.

If there’s something that you can do within your remit of control to stop that ‘bad’ sex from reoccurring, take measures to prevent that. Say you’re worried about how you look, or doing the wrong thing, so you won’t be in the moment (and will therefore struggle to enjoy it), mindfulness is always helpful to keep you present during sex. 

Apps like Karma, Guided by Glow and BLOOM all have features that encourage you to focus on your breath while masturbating – probably the most effective way to start practicing this sexual mindfulness. 

Or the issue might be that you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do certain acts. Again: there are tools for that; sites like Beducated and BedBible offer videos or guides for all the sex acts under the sun. But it’s also wise to remember that, just as you have your own preferences, each person you sleep with will find different things pleasurable, or have entirely new ways of being fingered, sucked off or penetrated. 

Now comes the hard part: communicating your concerns and preferences to them. When I finally decided to break my celibacy, I had extensive conversations with all of my friends about what that would look like: who it would be with, what it would be like, and how I would feel afterwards. 

In reality, that’s not how it happened. It probably will feel awkward, at least to you, at first. But you are well within your rights to tell this person that you’re feeling trepidatious; that you haven’t had sex in a long time, and what it is that’s worrying you. 

If they’re the right person for you, they’ll understand. They won’t be freaked out by the fact you haven’t had sex in three years; equally they will understand if the first time you have sex doesn’t blow their brains out. Good sex is about adaptability, finding what works to accommodate each set of needs, and communicating and revising whenever that doesn’t work out. 

You are also well within your rights to ask to take it slow – maybe start with some passionate kissing in bed before moving on to some touching above the clothes, and see how you handle it. Ask them lots of questions – to make sure they’re having a good time – which will in turn encourage them to do the same for you. 

Through this dialogue and experimentation, like a born again virgin, you’ll find the right rhythm. It might seem like a daunting moment, but if you want it to happen, and it’s with the right person, it will feel easy. 

Good luck, and get laid! 

Love,

Honey x