Being celibate made me see the invisible loneliness that some men live with I am sorry I am being oddly reflective today for some reason…but I was talking to a male friend about my decision to be celibate for at least a year. I told him how I haven’t been intimate with anyone since September and that I’ve never gone this long without a partner or sexual connection. He was surprised, saying that for many men, having a “dry year” or two is normal. That caught me off guard because I’ve never really thought about it. For me, intimacy has almost always been presented as an option rather than something I actively seek. It’s something that surrounds me, and I either accept it or I don’t. Even now, my choice to step back and be celibate is a conscious act for my growth and healing. For many men, celibacy isn’t a choice in the same sense.
It is often imposed by circumstance, not desire. A few months ago, I reconnected with someone from high school purely as friends, and our conversation reminded me of a memory that has always stuck with me. Back in class, he had been sitting with his girlfriend, and I remembered them having this private conversation. She said, “I’m pregnant.” And he said, “How can you be pregnant if we never had sex?” And she replied, “We did other things.” When we talked recently, I asked him, looking back at that memory, what those “other things” were.
He laughed and said, “Beats me. We didn’t have sex at that time.” Then he added that they did have sex later on, losing their virginity to each other, and that was the only time he has ever had sex. Ever since (It’s been 6 years since we graduated high school and since he last had sex). Hearing him tell this honestly and openly made me realize how different the experiences of men and women can be when it comes to intimacy, desire, and opportunity.
What struck me most was not that men are completely unwanted, but that being wanted can be very, very rare. For some men, it is a reality that happens far less frequently than it does for women. Women may sometimes encounter what could be called false desire, but we are still desired, still sought after, and we have easier access to affection not only from men but also from our female counterparts. Our communities are stronger, our networks of care more visible, and the experience of being wanted is something most women encounter with far greater regularity.
For many men, abstaining is not a choice, it is a circumstance, and the quiet absence of attention, recognition, and small affirmations of desire can create profound loneliness. I do not have answers, only reflections, and what I see is that this lack of being wanted, of being acknowledged, is a pain that is real, deep, and often invisible, and it shapes the way many men experience the world
