To whispers over drinks, under covers and behind closed doors. I’m talking about sex. How the meaning of it, the act of it and the frequency of it changes, just as we do.
And as this is clearly a very sensitive subject, please understand that this piece is based on a collection of anecdotes gathered over time and by no means reflects your personal experience.
*Names have been changed to protect storytellers.
The roaring 20’s
Quantity over quality, your hormones are on fire, you’re often bored and drunk. And let’s face it, everyone looks a whole lot better and sexier when you’ve had a few. I had my 21st buddy, his name was Jake.
We’d hook up at the all parties and it was great fun. Then one day we decided to actually try be a couple. As it turns out, he was not nearly as good looking or funny when I was sober, so it didn’t last long.
And dirty weekends, remember those? To places like Daylesford and the Blue Mountains where overpriced smelly candles are in abundance but not much else so to keep warm, you get busy. My friend Liz, was a broke uni student who really wanted a sexy getaway with her boyfriend. So she convinced her father to pay for her “car service”, then cashed it in for a weekend away with her man.
“I walked back into work on Monday, like some kinda cowboy. We’d had sex 12 times over 2 days!” Champion.
She also got a raging UTI, but that’s beside the point.
Attempting to NOT fall pregnant
Yes, we’ve all been there. Panicked phone-calls to girlfriends and walks of shame to the pharmacy for the morning-after pill.
The idea of having a kid in your 20’s is truly terrifying and reserved for bad American reality TV shows with people named Brittany and Neveah.
Time marches on, you meet someone you actually like and, one day, you decide that it’s time/everyone else is doing it/clock is ticking et cetera – let’s have a baby.
And suddenly, sex goes from pleasure to business.
Sexy talk becomes a thing of the past and now it sounds more like a meeting with your broker.
Is this a good time?
When should I deposit?
What if we try a different position?
And then when things don’t go to plan, heartbreak, fear, anxiety, guilt.
- Why did we wait so long?
- Am I too old?
- It must be you.
- Just do it already!
And then one day, you find out you’re pregnant.
I remember staring at the pee stick for my first pregnancy for like 30 minutes in total silence and panic. I couldn’t move.
And sex?! Pfft. Um, no thank you. Hands off tiger.
The sickness and insane fatigue especially during the 1st trimester are out of control. It feels like you’re walking in slow motion – underwater.
The absolute last thing you want is anyone touching you. Like my friend Michelle put so eloquently, “That an out hole. Not an in hole!”
And that’s what I assumed all women were like until my friend Sarah told me that her libido went through the roof during her pregnancy. “I wanted it everyday, all day. I couldn’t get enough. My husband was loving it. Then I had the baby and it all evaporated.” Poof! Poor guy.
Talk about an anti climax.
Post baby – The dirty 30’s
The person who coined the term “dirty thirties” was either being ironic or didn’t have kids.
The only thing dirty about my 30’s is my 4-year-old son’s face after demolishing a Spongebob ice cream, and the only booty call I get these days is from him yelling at me from the bathroom to wipe his bum. Yep, welcome to my dirty thirties.
False advertising at its best.
And, post baby, your body is just not the same. Boobs change shape completely, hips seem to take the term “child bearing” quite literally and you’re just…different.
But what has mostly changed is my intense desire to sleep. My current fantasy is to go to sleep and wake up in the same position 8 (or more) hours later.
So sex, when the stars are somehow all aligned (baby is asleep, we are both vaguely awake and in bed, at the same time) it’s actually kinda special. Then you smile, roll over and pass out.
But that’s if you and your partner are on the same page (read: equally tired and disinterested in sex as the other).
Yes, times have changed, and though I look back fondly at my roaring twenties, I don’t really miss the uncertainty of love vs lust, trying to decipher the codes and repeatedly going for the wrong man.
I’m content with my decisions and don’t regret a thing.
Are you still talking about sex? Let us know in the comments.
Image source Shutterstock.