The Sex Life Of A Single Mum: What I Do When I'm Getting None

Dating is tough at the best of times but when you've got to do so while looking after a little'un, it's damn near impossible...
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I became a single mum five years ago and I haven’t had been in a proper relationship since.  Why? Well, there are many reasons for this; heartbreak, insanity, self preservation but mainly no free time.  Also, my kid told me the other night I smelled like Turkey Dinosaurs so I’m guessing this might have something to do with it.  One night stands bore me and a relationship means I’d have to make room in my life for someone other than my child. Boyfriends are like parrots anyway; they’re fun and chatty at first but one day they’ll decide they want to fly away, shitting on you from a great height as they go.

I must have had a sex life at some point because in 2006, a little person emerged from my vagina and shouted directly into my face until I fed her but I’m still not convinced. The annoying thing is that the longer you go without sex, the more of an issue it becomes until one day you find yourself writing about it on a website trying to convince yourself your doing it for cathartic reasons, rather than just pure frustration.

So I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I may never date or get laid again and therefore I try to fill my time and distract myself with something other than porn, crying and learning the entire musical score from A Chorus Line. Some people might choose to just wank themselves into a coma but I prefer to be slightly more constructive.

No one has seen me naked in quite a while, which has led to me not giving a shit and becoming slightly chunkier than I once was. Comfort eating is a bastard and I’ll find myself imagining new and exciting dishes to shove into my already well fed face. For example, I recently imagined eating a cake- a giant cake made entirely from sausages BUT hidden inside was a singing and dancing sausage which burst out and congratulated me on my celibacy before I ate it. Extreme dieting inevitably takes over as does the occasional purchase of exercise equipment. I’ll bore everyone with tales of that whole pound I lost last week by drinking meat and how my exercise bike has hurt my front bottom but I still managed to ride 2 whole miles like a champ.


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When I’m not eating, dieting or pedalling on the spot, I’m writing which helps me take my mind off the fact that I’m not spooning someone in a filthy way. So far I’ve managed to write a novel, two blogs, newspaper and magazine articles and I even enrolled in a spectacularly dull  writing course , all because it’s the only thing I’m moderately good at. Well, except for napping.  Since I’m not having sex, I nap the shit out of my couch instead and I’m amazing at this.

Television is an excellent distraction from my stupid sexless life and I watch every show America has ever produced, except for How I Met Your Mother. Unless the mother turns out to be a jackal, I couldn’t give a fuck who she is. However, my libido ensures that I will be sexually attracted to every single character whether I actually fancy them or not. Being on heat and in charge or a remote control is a deadly combination.

Some of you will relate to this, some of you might be making that pity face usually reserved for single women at weddings and some of you may be too busy actually having sex to even read this, but regardless I feel that I’m among friends here (albeit really judge-y imaginary friends, like the ones I have on Twitter) and I’m certain I’m not alone in my aloneness.

So where does that leave me? I tell you where - unloved, unkempt and going nowhere on a stationary bike, fuelled by thoughts of sausages and Showtime marathons.

What an utter prick.