"No Nut Clarity" Part I

Read this blog to "Off of You" by Summer Walker

This blog is about how I chose to be celibate for 17 months and why you and your friend of the opposite sex shouldn’t try to have sex with each other. Friendzones are real, yall should just stay friends.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

But sit back, relax and listen to the lessons I’ve learned over the past 17 months.

So if we rewind, 17 months from now would be the documented beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. Covid definitely made practicing celibacy easier than the process would have been without having social distancing mandates and the country being on lockdown. A deadly disease also aided in the decision of not wanting to be in just anyone’s face.

During March 2020, I was in the headspace of choosing myself. At the time I didn’t even know that that was my headspace. I was struggling with prayer at this time. I couldn’t pray. Prior to this time, I did not pray at all. I may have said a quick prayer before a test in college, or sent up a prayer to God that I wouldn’t drink again as I was head first in a toilet after I night of drinking, but other than that, God rarely heard from me.

At this time the only prayer I could muster was “Help me God.” I have no idea what put this prayer on my heart, but I believe I was at a breaking point. Up until this time no situationship I had ever been in was fulfilling. They all felt exactly the same. They all stripped me of any self love or pride. I felt completely defeated. I felt worthless. And I realized I hit rock bottom. That may have triggered a desperate desire to seek God for help. To seek God to get my life back. A life that I felt was degraded and erased by meaningless sex.

So at this time God spoke to me. Before this time period, I had never heard from God. I remember reading a book in high school about this little boy. I believe he was Catholic. He could only take communion once he turned a certain age. In the book he was excited about finally receiving communion, because he thought that once he took communion, he would finally be able to hear God speak to him. He had never heard God speak to him before, but he heard from adults and friends around him how they heard God. So of course, he wanted to be connected with God like the rest of his community was. After he received communion, he thought that God would speak to him like an announcer on a megaphone. He heard nothing. The story resonated with me because I had never heard from God. Then suddenly in March of 2020, I start hearing little voices in my head go “Celibacy” “Law School” “Quit your job.” I thought I was going insane because these were all things that I would never do. They made absolutely no sense to me.

Looking back, I realize why they made no sense to me at the time. I’m a very “I have to have a plan” type person. Step A must perfectly fit Step B. I’m very detailed and anal. Quitting my job is never something I would contemplate WITHOUT having a backup job. Shout out to entrepreneurs. I could never be one. I need a safety net. I need a steady income. Struggle and I do not mix.

Celibacy showed me no definite end goal. Law school showed me no definite end goal or beginning. Pursuing law school threw me a curve ball. Quitting my job showed me no definite end. I saw no steps. I saw no end destination, and I saw no desire to want to pursue these safety net-less goals. But that’s what God spoke to me.

24 years of silence and the message made absolutely no sense to me at all. I heard the message. I couldn’t see it.

Trust.

These past 17 months have made me realize that I lack trust. I was afraid to admit that because to me, those who lack trust are broken. But I was broken, in many aspects I still am broken. Where was my trust broken? When did I lose my trust? Maybe it’s still in that apartment in Bellevue, who knows. But losing trust made me lose trust in everything, even God. He spent 17 months rebuilding my trust in him.

So how did it go?

I created a Finsta to document the beginning of my celibacy journey and to rant and to just genuinely be myself. Lonely. Depressed. Funny. Cute. Sexy. A cry baby. A revolutionary. I have like 25 different personalities on my Finsta.

Make a Finsta. Be free. Your main page is too restricting.

Anyway, as posted on my Finsta, the first three months were brutal. I felt like I was being weened off heroin. Maybe not that extreme, but I did feel like I was dying. I was having 20,000 wet dreams every night. I lost eyesight for a good three days. I was rewinding old Power and Insecure sex scenes. I was down bad. It was not fun. I contemplated hitting up a nigga who I knew was terrible for me. I stayed strong though. I held it down, but I was not happy.

In reality, I was really just bored. I didn’t know how to entertain myself anymore.

Now for clarification, since I wasn’t having sex with anyone or planning to, I stopped talking to any young man. The roster was empty. I was bored as hell.

So Months 1-3 were hard.

Months 4-6 were: Ehh.

You get to feeling yourself. Look at me hitting milestones. Hyping yourself up. Look at you doing this celibacy shit with ease. You feel really powerful and strong. Months 4-6 were good months. You’re acclimated with what’s going on and you feel good. No urges. You’re content.

Months 7-9: You start to rethink everything. The urges are back. You think you’ve made your statement. It’s fine if you slip up now right? You’ve gone 6 months, what else do you have to prove? Everything reminds you of him.

Months 10-12: Cake. You’ve hit or you’re about to hit your year. You did it! A year without sex and you barely broke a sweat. You’re straight with the no sex. The self worth is back………….. No dusty nigga can touch you. The body is too expensive now. The soul is above these niggas now.

Or is it?

Why does your friend suddenly look so cute?