### 5 Eye-Opening Discoveries About Sex Post-Divorce Going through a divorce taught me many things, but one of the most surprising lessons was about sex. Here are five insights I gained: 1. **Rediscovering Myself** After my marriage ended, I took time to explore what I truly wanted and needed. I found a sense of self-awareness that I hadn't realized was missing. 2. **Breaking Free from Routine** Married life had become predictable. Post-divorce, I enjoyed the freedom to try new things without the constraints of routine. 3. **Communication is Key** Being single again made me realize the importance of open and honest communication with partners. It’s crucial to express desires and boundaries clearly. 4. **Seeking Pleasure** I learned to prioritize my own pleasure. This shift in mindset was empowering and led to more fulfilling sexual experiences. 5. **Healing through Intimacy** Intimacy became a source of healing. Connecting with someone on a deeper level helped rebuild my confidence and trust. These lessons transformed my perspective on sex, making it a more enriching part of my life.

My ex-husband and I shared 15 years together. The first couple of years, before kids became part of our lives, were marked by awkward, yet enthusiastic and passionate sex. We were just 18 when we started dating, and his understanding of female anatomy was lacking (no, I don’t pee out of my clitoris), but his enthusiasm and stamina made up for it. In exchange for frequent and eager orgasms, I happily gave regular blow jobs in places where we probably wouldn’t get caught, but still had the thrill of thinking we might. This included his Dad’s car and, on one occasion, inside a supermarket trolley from Asda, which we had wheeled to an abandoned garage. We might not have been classy, but we were happy.

The next four years of our marriage were characterized by a routine of child-free intimacy. Our encounters became less spontaneous and more planned, yet they were still meaningful and effective. By this time, he had mastered the complexities of my pleasure center just as skillfully as he operated the mid-range gas cooker we had invested in for our kitchen. Press this button, turn that knob, set it to gas mark 6 for 20 minutes – and voila, a flawless souffle. My middle-class climaxes became a mutual source of pride for us.

Then, as is often the case, life had its way with us both. In a tale as old as time, we created a life together, directing our attention toward the intricacies of living itself, rather than focusing on each other. I can't quite pinpoint when we stopped having sex, nor can I recall the reason why; I just know we did. After 15 years of being someone's 'other half' (and sometimes 'better half'), I had to step out into the world and present myself as a whole, independent person.

So, I ventured back into the dating scene, and here’s what I discovered about sex post-divorce:

1) Certain men consider me attractive.

Navigating marriage and raising children can significantly impact your sexual fulfillment. Many people would agree that dealing with a crying baby multiple times a night detracts from your desire to engage in late-night conversations and intimacy. Moreover, having children can lead to other compromises: your carpets aren't as clean, meals lose their creativity, and your phone seems only capable of playing songs from Frozen. These are minor setbacks compared to the more personal issue of sex. Sexual intimacy is deeply personal and affects you directly. So, when your partner stops showing interest or when sex becomes something both of you avoid, it's easy to internalize the problem and think it's your fault. However, realizing that your husband's lack of desire doesn't reflect your overall attractiveness can be enlightening. Even if the person you married and had children with no longer feels sexually drawn to you, it doesn't mean other men won't. To put this into perspective, I'm not suggesting that men are flocking to me. I consider myself to have an average appearance. But it has been surprisingly wonderful to discover that attraction and satisfying sex are attainable for me in my life after divorce, even though they seemed impossible during my marriage.

2) I still have a strong passion for sex.

This wouldn’t have shocked my 18-year-old self, who seized every opportunity (even in shopping trolleys) to get some action, but my post-marriage, post-motherhood self believed those days were behind me. What once was thrilling had evolved into something scheduled, then became a chore, and ultimately turned into something to avoid altogether. I didn’t feel attractive (see point 1), and thought that age and hormones had shifted me to a point where I no longer needed or wanted sex. I was mistaken. It turns out that my desire was either on or off, and when it came back on, it surged uncontrollably. In reality, I wasn’t done with sex at all. I was done with sex in a situation where I didn’t feel wanted. Once I reconnected with myself sexually, recognizing I still had something to offer, I was able to create the most satisfying sex life I’ve ever experienced, complete with stretch marks, a c-section scar, jiggly bits, and insecurities.

3) Hookups are simple to find, yet they tend to be dull.

If you're a heterosexual woman using dating apps and you find yourself chatting with a heterosexual man using the same apps, there's a 100% chance he'll tell you that dating apps are tough for men and that women have it much easier. This topic could easily be an entire post (or even a thesis) by itself. While I generally dispute the notion that women have it 'easier' in the dating realm, it does appear that casual sex is more readily available to hetero women than it is to hetero men. If I'm seeking a one-night stand, I don't have to put much effort into it. Conversely, if a man wants the same, he has to work harder. However, the truth is that I normally don't want a one-night stand. My first one was thrilling, a mix of novelty and audacity. The second one was just okay, and the third one felt dull. After that, I stopped. The difference between the first and the third wasn’t due to some unique, magical experience; it was simply new to me initially. In fact, there is nothing particularly different or magical about one-night stands—that's the issue. The mechanics are repetitive each time. Interestingly, the most common male fantasy is sex with a stranger. This isn't a prevalent fantasy among women, not because women necessarily want 'more than sex'—like love, shared resources, or emotional support—but simply because sex with a stranger often turns out to be quite dull. The best sex I've had since my divorce has been with friends with benefits, where we share fantasies, text regularly, and build up tension leading to an incredibly satisfying release, without the complexities of a committed relationship.

4) A single solution doesn't work for everyone.

I used to think there were only two kinds of sex, aside from various positions and orifices: one within a marriage or committed monogamous relationship, filled with love and long-term commitment; and casual sex, which is purely physical with no emotions involved. I've heard about 'friends with benefits' (FWB), but it turns out there's so much more to the world of sex and relationships. There are many options available, often accompanied by acronyms, with FWB just being the tip of the iceberg. Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) is becoming recognized as a valid and healthy alternative to traditional relationship structures. Within ENM, you find FWBs, as well as PPs (play partners—similar to FWBs, but with less emphasis on the ‘friends’ and more on the ‘benefits’). Polyamorous individuals also fit within the ethically non-monogamous framework, offering even more ways for people to relate to each other. This demonstrates that relationships aren't just limited to being either committed or casual. There are no strict rules or guidelines; your goal (and your pleasure) is to figure out what you want and how to make it work for you.

5) Sex, doesn’t just mean sex….

…and you don’t need anyone else for this. If you've been in a long-term relationship, you won't be the same person coming out of it as you were going in. Over the span of the 16 years I spent with my husband, both the world and I underwent significant changes. By the end of it all, I was uncertain about wanting another relationship, unsure of my sexual preferences both in and out of the bedroom, and unclear about my own identity. For a considerable period, I didn't want any men in my life. Ending my marriage was a difficult and chaotic experience, and I needed time to take a breather from all the pain. And that was perfectly okay. In fact, it was more than okay. During that time, I turned to masturbation for quick relief when needed. Whether using my hand or toys, I began to re-familiarize myself with my body and rediscover how to derive pleasure from it. I started watching adult films, figuring out what aroused me and what didn't. I shopped for clothes that made me feel confident and indulged in erotic literature, allowing my fantasies to run free. This journey was all about discovering my own sexuality, independently, without anyone else involved. Eventually, I encountered some incredible individuals who joined me on this path, but it all began with just me and the realization that post-divorce sex could be amazing and entirely within my control.