My latest column is pretty personal. It's called "Never Have I Ever". As always, if you like it, spreading the word via the buttons at the top of the column or posting it is always much appreciated!
Going back to those never have I ever fantasies, some of them are as extreme as running a marathon, something I’m pretty sure I’d never do. There’s a small part of me that wants to explore them, but so many variables would have to align in exactly the right ways. Maybe they will someday, but right now I know, similar to how I have to work on my core so I can be stable for running, I have to get the rest of my life—my health, my finances, my home, my writing—in order if I’m going to approach sex in a way that enhances my life. Again, I know this isn’t everyone’s path, but when life gets too out of control, my instinct is to pull back, especially from interactions with other people where there’s a high likelihood that I or they might get hurt emotionally. It feels selfish in some ways to make me the sole priority in my life (I realize how crazy that sounds even as I’m typing it), but it’s the only thing I feel I can dedicate myself to.
That commitment to self-improvement is certainly something I haven’t done in quite the methodical way I am now. I’ve tackled bits and pieces—declaring bankruptcy here, hiring a personal organizer there, finally going to the dentist after five years—but this year, this crazy year of being 35, I’m finally forcing myself to face a lot of realities I’ve been too stubborn or sad or wishful to look at head-on before. It’s certainly not easy and my favorite vices—food, sex, shopping—are ones I’m also trying to leave behind. Obviously, I still have to eat, I’m still a sexual being and I still need to make purchases, but I mean leave behind using them in self-destructive ways, especially sex, because I don’t want to drag anyone else into my madness.
Read the whole thing