Raising my standards: sex and one proper date a week. With myself if I have to.

You know what the crappy thing is about sexual awakenings?
Or as was the case with me, a sexual wake-up call by a rockstar writer oozing youth and health and OMG gimme that!!
(damn it’s been way too long), the crappy thing is, it won’t go back to sleep.
Not even by masturbating, which I did try, and which was kind of a milestone experience because for the first time in years I didn’t masturbate to my secret lover Mr.Big.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I insist on sticking to the correct order of things which actually started before I knew I was going to see the young writer, when Mr.Big said he’d call me which was odd because he barely ever calls me. And this time in particular, I felt like it wasn’t good.
I looked forward to hearing his voice, but I was on my guard.
It sounded suspicious.
But I was wrong.
We had a lovely phone conversation. The content was friendly though, not sexual. But that was to be expected: we weren’t the phone sex type. We didn’t even text sexy messages, working up to seeing each other.

Our relationship was always as if it had never existed and still had to start. As if we were still in the phase of not admitting we really liked each other.
It was one of the many things I appreciated about being his secret mistress, I never felt like he took me for granted. And I certainly never took him for granted either. I knew the risks he took by seeing me, and that I would always be a liability.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know my worth as a lover, it was that I was painfully aware I came at the price of risking it all.
Maybe I didn’t get the long end of the stick, seeing so little of the man I love, but at least I didn’t have to juggle either. My price for being infatuated, perpetually in love year after year – something no man I had slept with had ever achieved – was that it could be over and done with at any time.
And on the day of the call, I feared we were done for.
But we weren’t.

Maybe he had changed his mind, or maybe he really did just want a chat because he was so busy and didn’t want to neglect me. But I enjoyed it.
Yet I haven’t seen him since.

So when I saw the young rockstar writer, whose presence was an energetic wake-up call, like:
“Hello! Lady! Where’s your sex life?”
I had already been asking myself that same question. And doubt had started to creep in. Had Mr.Big been wanting to break up with me?
And/or was he doing that now by simply not arranging a new date?
Did it mean something, that I didn’t see him?
And even if that didn’t mean anything else than all the times before – which was that there was stuff going on at work, family, or with himself – even if that positive scenario was the case, which didn’t have anything to do with me, how long was that going to be enough?

What exactly, was my bottom line when it came to being monogamous? A status I liked, that’s not the point. I don’t like the idea of another lover. But honestly?
If I didn’t appear to be having a minimum date or sex requirement, then wasn’t it about time that I started to think about the ultimate consequences of this?

Should I perhaps end it myself, to make room for someone who would be able to see me regularly? Or was that too drastic?
Should I get a second lover then?
Or was that out of my league, and was I incapable of setting up something on the side? I had never managed to do it in the past. Not even when I was with my long-term relationship, and getting an affair would have had the potential to save our entire relationship.
Even then I couldn’t, despite trying. It was like my advances bounced off of every man I set eyes on. I had never felt so unloved.

So then what?
Was I going to come up with a Plan B, or did I intend to keep suffering every time my needs weren’t met and I was kept in uncertainty about my fate?

My first instinct was to call Mr.Big. Yet after chewing over that plan for a while, I dismissed it. It would only throw us back to the quarreling of our first months. With me wanting something, and him making a point of not being able to give it.
And besides, the whole problem is being caused by me not taking responsibility for my own sex life. As long as I insist on being monogamous, the consequence is that I m dependent on someONE else to supply it.
And I ve always believed this to be true for marriages as well, which is why I’m pro-mistresses and pro-lovers.
“Cheating” is a sign of taking responsibility for your own sex life and releasing your partner of that task. And ideally, you give your partner as much time for himself, or herself, as he or she needs to process that and figure things out. And offer the option to never have sex again with you.
But if you know beforehand he or she doesn’t want you to cheat, then you don’t tell.
Some call that lying, I call it courteous.
I would even call it saving the relationship.

And I felt that right now, the time had come to save my relationship with Mr.Big by starting to take care of myself. It wasn’t healthy that my body sighed, and moaned, during yoga because then at least it experienced something.
Anywhere.
It wasn’t healthy that my final years of being fertile and juicy, were wasted having sex far less than once a month.
It was downright appalling.
And whatever reason I thought I had – me being monogamous, me being absolutely over the moon about Mr.Big, me having been terribly unsuccessful in the past in getting a second lover, and needing nine freaking years after ending my long term relationship before I finally, FINALLY, found my ultimate lover Mr.Big –
those reasons were no longer valid.
Not if I wanted an average sex life, but especially not if I wanted an absolutely amazing sex life.
Seeing the young rockstar writer taught me that.

So today when I masturbated, I hesitated.. For years I had masturbated exclusively to Mr.Big. It was something that I had consciously chosen to do, after an early attempt to make it more neutral. According to instructions from a program to attract the man of your dreams, I was supposed to masturbate thinking about “my dream lover”.
Yet it always resulted in thinking about Mr.Big.
Until I stopped fighting it, and gave in, and did it only with him in mind.

But now I felt it was important to stop doing that.
If I did keep masturbating to Mr.Big I would keep affirming that he was the only one. When from now on, I wouldn’t exclude anything anymore.
It was a bit odd, but I managed, and I was fine. Everything still functioned, even without thinking about him.

And I’m going to create dates for myself. I ve thought about joining a dating site, but I wasn’t feeling like it. Perhaps, not feeling like it yet?
But I m going to start by dating the men I already know, or maybe new men I meet. Or I m going to take myself on dates; grooming and dressing well and taking good care of myself.
Blocking my calendar, planning in advance. I so missed that, all the anticipation. I m going to visualize and plan, at least one date every week.
Even if this is just me taking myself some place nice.
And I’m also going to time block staying in and having sex, once a week. Again, I will go solo if I need to. But maybe I don’t need to.
Who knows what will happen.
But those are my new standards, from now on forward.
And the hows or the whos, will just need figure themselves out.