Six. This is the number of times we had sex in all of 2014.
You read that correctly – six.
We could run down a litany of (warranted) excuses. We were not only still recovering from a 2012 severe financial crisis, but we had made the decision to move our mother into our home for her final exodus into death. Her Parkinson’s disease and dementia had finally taken their toll and she declined continually throughout the year until her final breath on November 7th. The remainder of the year brought visitors, paperwork, the holidays, and every distraction imaginable – not to mention the onset of menopause and the simple process of aging. Our 50’s are upon us and our collective libido is getting harder and harder to coerce into intimacy.
“You are responsible for your own orgasm,” my boyfriend told me. He was the guy I lost my virginity to, the guy I had my first orgasm with, and the guy whose words would one day become my mantra: I am responsible for my own orgasm. I believe that literally and figuratively. In bed, I play an active role in getting what I want. But I also take charge of getting what I want throughout my sexual life.