I haven't had sex for 10 years - and I'm glad

When the news first came through that the country was heading for lockdown due to the coronavirus, most of my friends started panicking at the prospect of being stuck inside with their other halves. I made sympathetic noises; but I wasn’t too alarmed. I knew I would find it easier than them, because for the past 10 years I’ve been single and celibate, happily living alone.

In my 20s and 30s, I had relationships with mostly difficult, artistic types – men with no inclination towards a long-lasting relationship. At the time, I assumed that at some point I would meet someone, marry, have kids and settle down. But it never happened. By the time I hit 40, I’d accepted that most middle-aged guys came with history in the form of children and exes, and I willingly went along with that, accepting that I probably wasn’t their priority.

But then one night, everything changed. I’d been seeing Glen* for a few months and we’d established a coupled-up routine. Once or twice a week, we’d meet for a drink, then stroll back to mine and fall into bed together.

On this night, as we were about to leave the pub, his phone rang. It was his ex-wife. Glen told me he had to go and see her – no decent explanation why – and a few days later I received a text explaining his ex had had second thoughts about ending their marriage. He owed it to her and their children to give it another go. I never saw him again.

I was utterly heartbroken. I realised then, as I put myself back together, that I didn’t want to go through the same thing again; I’d been bruised too many times. If that meant going without sex and intimacy too, so be it.

The decision to go celibate, and shun relationships completely, wasn’t straightforward, however. For a start, I’ve always enjoyed sex. I enjoy the build-up, the intimacy of the act and the time spent together in bed afterwards. Sunday mornings were always my favourite time of the week to make love. It’s a lovely, lazy and self-indulgent way to start the day. Even now, especially in the strange, worrying times we are living through, I miss sharing a bed and having someone to curl up with.

But the devastation of being let down time and again was affecting my confidence and creating anxiety. Quite simply, I had to put myself first – and going without sex and intimacy was a price worth paying.

I have a circle of friends who are either getting divorced or dealing with ungrateful grown-up children, and I honestly feel thankful that I don’t have to face those issues. Instead I’ve spent much of the past decade focusing on my mental health. I suffer with anxiety and I started painting to get my worries out of my mind and on to the canvas. It has helped enormously.

A few years ago, I did think I might break my resolution when I became close to a guy I met through an art course. I was attracted to him, but after spending an intense few weeks together, he suddenly stopped replying to my calls and messages. Even though we’d never kissed – let alone made love – I was still annoyed with myself for letting someone in again, and it only strengthened my resolve.

More recently, I was asked out by an old flame and – while the Emma in her late 30s would have said yes instantly – I declined. Instead, I went home, lit some candles and settled down with my two cats and a bottle of wine. I didn’t have to give myself to anyone. Nothing was expected of me, and it was bliss. While my life sounds like a sex-free cliché, it is a very happy and fulfilled one.

See Emma’s work: degreeart.com/artists/emma- donaldson

As told to Samantha Brick.  *Name has been changed