I am a queer, nonmonogamous, unmarried, polyamorous woman in my mid-40s. I get that my relationship experience is not your standard-issue happily-ever-after heteronormative story. Add a super-high sex drive to the mix, and I’m definitely a sexual outlier.
This isn’t new. I’ve always been a sexual person with a high sex drive. I started masturbating at a young age, lost my virginity at 15 and have been promiscuous (by society’s prudish standards) ever since. I’ve always enjoyed having a variety of sexual partners, which conveniently, yields a high frequency of sexual interactions.
The thing is, sex drive varies from person to person. I know that my particular set of sexual circumstances is different from most. Still, my sex drive is so high that I’ve frequently been known to wear out partners (many of whom are males much younger than myself with a short refractory time.) Also, it’s not uncommon for me to have multiple sexual partners in any given day — and still want more.
Keeping up with my sex drive
To start with, I fully admit that I’ve used sex as a coping technique in the past. It distracted from the bigger issues at hand (mostly loss-related) but filled some pretty big voids — at least temporarily. Fast-forward: I got all the therapy and pharmaceuticals I ever needed to make peace with my loss issues and move forward. Still, even when I took the distraction aspect out of the scenario, I really enjoyed having sex and having as much of it as possible. It’s always been something I’ve sought out, enjoyed and made a priority. I love all the happy hormones and neurotransmitters that are released during sex and how good I feel after a good lay. Sexual pleasure is an amazing thing and I want it as much as possible.
I’m not married, but I have several ongoing relationships of varying degrees of seriousness. My sex drive has often been a dating challenge. Typically, I want more sex than most partners are able to give. Like, pretty-please-with-lube-on-top have sex with me six times in a 24-hour span, and I’m good and ready to go for a seventh bout. I love this form of intimacy so much and exploring all the ways connection is possible when you’re hot, bothered, horizontal and naked.
Over the years, some of my friends have questioned whether or not I was a sex addict. The thing is, I don’t have an addictive personality. Also, I’m picky AF when it comes to sexual partners. I’m not into one-night stands — I genuinely care about the people I sleep with. I may be quicker than some to make the jump from swapping spit to sexual intercourse, but am also super-safe-sex minded and try to avoid making any snap decisions.
I use a handful of online dating sites and am very upfront with my intentions. Sometimes, I’m looking for lunch dates, a long-term relationship or a friends-with-benefits situation. I’m totally transparent that I’m not looking for platonic friendships, and frequently, conversations have gotten really weird when I flat-out tell a potential date that I’m not looking for such things, and if we’re chatting, it’s because the possibility of sexy time is on the table for me. Many men are intimidated by this forwardness. I’ve been told I’m presumptuous; I’d prefer to think I’m efficient and action-oriented. I know what I want, and although I’m more than happy to put in the effort in to develop a relationship, I really like sex, and it’s going to be an integral part of any romantic relationship.
Here’s the thing: People may raise an eyebrow at my high sex drive. That’s OK. There’s no such thing as a “normal” sex drive. Some people want it all the time. Others are asexual and have zero libido. That’s perfectly OK too.
People think I have this incredible sex life (and I do), but there are frequently moments when I long for more of a certain partner or more sex — period. I suppose it’s not really all that different from wanting more in a traditional, monogamous, heterosexual dynamic, except for me, it’s amped up a whole bunch and spread over a bunch of different beautiful humans.