Essential guidance for anyone who was wondering

What To Do If You Don't Enjoy Sex As A Man

For years, I used to not enjoy sex, to the point where it made me physically uncomfortable to play my role as a regular human being. I still liked women, I very much enjoyed the flirting, the getting to know each other - just not the sex. It was just not good enough to warrant the effort, nowhere near the “end goal” that society made it out to be. I wasn’t good at it, and I wasn’t feeling good before,during or after. It always seemed to either distract from the actual couple-things I cared about, or get in the way of building proper friendships with everyone so afraid of a possible sexual interest.

Eventually, this led me to the point where I blocked any kind of advances and with that started a phase of roughly three years where I lived completely without sex. I had to fight against the constant onslaught of “why don’t you have a girlfriend”, to the point where I have been asked if I am gay more times than I can count.

Today, however, I am the polar opposite. I am friends with more women than men, I enjoy having sex and being cute, flirty, and sensual. So today I want to write about what problems I faced, and how I worked through them, in hopes that it may resonate with others and show that this is not unnormal, nor a perpetual fate.

I was too young and so were they

One of my main problem has always been that I either was too young, or seemed too young. I could never really talk to girls and later women of my age, because I found them incredibly boring, and they me.

I quickly noticed that I could talk for hours with interesting women when they turned up, but they did not really exist in my circles. I could talk to older women, but was too young for them to be of any kind of sexual interest. And just in case I met someone I was fascinated with, I inevitably messed things up at some point, or they did. And that wasn’t even the worst, that title is reserved to the sex I had, the women I worked hard to sleep with, tried to care about, and failed. Having sex was just never enough for me, and good luck trying to find a topic to talk about that served for more than ten minutes of conversation.

I’m turning 30 next year and for the past four or five years I have finally managed to break into “the adult world”. I have my own apartment, car, my tools and hobbies, the well-paying job. All just so that I can finally swim in a sea of fish and get accepted into conversations that I could have led just fine years ago, on a purely intellectual level.

And that alone has changed things for me, now I’m a guy who gets invited to parties and homes, goes on long hikes or short walks. I trade books, people call me for relationship advice and say things like “you always have your life together”, which is clearly a dissonance with reality but it goes to show how much my life has changed from the point when I was twenty and so were the women around me.

My sex life has drastically improved as well, and the same things that used to seem boring to the twenty-year-olds are appreciated now, and I can finally enjoy doing and trying these things and see where they lead us. I get late-night texts these days, I go on dates and pseudo-dates, am an active part of parties and social life in general, and not the worst when it comes to being fun, quirky and respectful, the grand bubbly mixture of boiling fun.

I still think that actual sex is boring, but suddenly people start to agree

I always felt weird because physical sex to me seems like an odd thing to spend this much time, effort and drama on, for something that I can absolutely and positively do myself. In fact, I can do it better because I am in full control over losing control, I can take breaks at the right moment, and basically medidate instead of stressing myself out and trying to balance three things at once.

Sex is like a five, ten minute ordeal when you focus on just the physical boning portion of it, and quite frankly boring. Most women don’t even reach orgasm through penetrative sex, which leads to mutual disappointment, and added performance pressure on both sides. This whole component of letting myself go and fall has always been missing in my early sexual encounters, and made the thought of merely physical sex boring to me.

Now, though, people start to agree with me. I have gained that sufficient amount of trust with quite a few women to be included in that field where they talk to me about all things period, sexual frustration, relationship struggles and unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Feelings of inadequacy of their own for not enjoying the sex they are having, or for feeling like they fail at life for various problems that really shouldn’t be issues at all.

And in that space, I have suddenly found that I can play a part, and play it well. I can listen to and talk things through, I provide mental shelter and physical embraces, massage shoulders and spend nights watching over an exhausted friend falling asleep in my arms, with all my neck hair standing up while I try to act calm. I caught up to this new life so quickly that I suddenly feel ever so slightly ahead of the curve, with a bit more social life, relationship stuff and flirts than I am reasonably comfortable with. I still remember old me, and new me seems to rush it with the whole patience and taking-my-time-to-listen shtick.

I am a good flirt now, can play intelligent jokes that land where they are supposed to, and hold my own in a came of wits and wittiness. I’m the guy who ends up in engaged conversations more than I’m forcing myself into them, and the guy who turns up at your houseparty, renovation or move day and does more than just uselessly breathing air.

And sure enough, at some points I end up having sex, but it’s such a different experience when it is finally the middle of the road and not the end. I just love falling asleep in each other’s arms instead of this “mission complete, shower and go home” kind of sex that you have when you’re young. Never cared for that, and pity the guys who are ten years older than I am and still at that point in their lives where the mere mention of sex makes them go haywire.

At the end of the day, I value it far more that I now have a network of trust that allows me to have actual friendships and relationships.

I have built a distributed network of trust

Maybe the most annoying part about sex to me is that it creates this omnipresent paranoia. I can’t offer help to a coworker without at least raising suspicion as to my real intent, and everything has to wade in this mud of mutual wondering and break through that layer of distrust for even the simplest of things to happen at all. I once helped a coworker who felt the need to ask two others to provide security more than actual help - and years later we ended up becoming each other’s most-trusted coworkers who knew too many secrets to ever risk wasting the other’s trust.

And it all nearly did not happen, had I not insisted to use my help instead of paying good money for bad professionals. Just because she had her dangly bits at a different height than I do, and I might have been a risk. I really don’t care for that layer of bullshit, but have learned to accept that it is a sad truth of life.

Over the years though, it seems that I have managed to live life. I moved a couple times, switched my job, bought a different car, explored many areas of interest and now know beautiful nature, odd little places, adventurous ruins and relaxed places of silence.

Along the way, I have moved on with my life enough times, but always retained remnants of my old life to bring it over into the new. I am still friends with some former classmates, coworkers, people I met along the way and who are somehow still part of my life. Thanks to the marvels of modern technology I can keep in contact with people I never knew I actually cared about until we had distance between us.

And suddenly, I find it that much easier to include new people into this network of base-level trust, merely due to the fact that women can see that I can treat other women with respect. I am no longer that almost-loner who’s an unwritten sheet of paper, and likely a dangerous person for offering my help. Now I bounce back and forth between everything that seems fun, and people ask for my help instead of me having to basically sell it to them.

I have always wanted this kind of “actual social life” and for years it was impossible to attain until pieces started falling into place. And boy, is that a refreshing change of pace that has led me to enjoy life as a whole much more, and differently than I used to.

I read a metric ton of erotica

Bad erotica exists, but unlike visual porn there is also lots of great, thoughtful erotica. You can actually learn a surprising amount about sexual desires, gain an understanding for adapting to different mindsets, and so much more. Apart from learning things that can be tried and trued in reality as chances arise, you will also find it helps wonders to understand your own sexuality - or in my case, learn that I actually have one.

I am at the point now where I believe that sex ed could actually educate if only teachers started giving some pre-screened pieces of written erotica to students, instead of showing how to pull a condom on a broom stick and watching a movie on STDs.

I learned to comfortably leave my comfort zone

Half of the time I am completely out of my waters. And I kind of like that these days, it’s a bit like racing a car that is running on fumes, the third gear won’t engage and yet somehow there are still cars in the rear mirror trying to catch up to you.

Which is to say: I simply learned to exist in this unfamiliar world, and navigate the waters however uncharted they may seem. According to some people I am fun to hang out with, according to others I’m utterly worthless as a human being. In the middle there are people whom I have successfully fooled into thinking I am not just two halves human, but actually one whole one. Whatever you say, mate, whatever you say.

Still, though, I fall asleep exhausted most days, but the good kind where I’m fascinated that life keeps happening and that you can never quite predict the direction it will take.

And that goes right from regular life into my sex life, where I’m never quite sure if what I’m doing is the right thing, but it’s better than doing nothing at all, or actively avoiding collisions.

I learned how twisted other people’s sex lives often are

Even knowing that things like domestic violence and abuse exist, it still doesn’t change the fact that everyone else’s lives seem intact, or the regular kind of broken. But to witness first hand what other people endure just to stay in a relationship, however dysfunctional, that will never cease to frighten me. I have friends who married the guys who cheated on them, plural.

I have seen the effects of stockholm-syndrome-like relationship dependencies, and worse I have seen the effects once reality kicks in and they realize what they have done to themselves with years gone to waste.

And then I have also seen what happens when people enter “open relationships” or keep bragging about their sexcapades when nobody asked them to share, and a frightening amount of other twists and quirks, hilarious or hideous.

And just like always, comparison is the thief of joy and the robin hood of giving perspective to the poor who think that a lack of enjoyment of sex is the worst that can happen.