The Celibate 25-Year-Old Who Still Uses Hinge

This week’s sex diary.

In this week’s story, a babysitter chats with people on Hinge and wonders if Zoloft might have something to do with her low sex drive: 25, single, Chicago.

DAY ONE

9:30 a.m. In an Uber, late for work. I had a dream last night that my ex and I had already broken up but decided to keep the wedding to appease our friends and family. It was a genuine nightmare. I still have nightmares and stress dreams about him a year and a half after our breakup. I was the one who broke things off with him — we had been together a few years, and I just fell out of love. This led to me never wanting to have sex with him, which he did not appreciate.

2:43 p.m. The baby I take care of is asleep, and while she naps I fold laundry and think about what it means to be a parent. People on the street ask me if she’s my kid. I can’t decide how I feel about having kids; it feels very “I Think About It All the Time” by Charli XCX.

5:23 p.m. Rushing to get to a postwork garden party at my friend’s aunt’s new house. It’s supposed to be an intergenerational gathering of women. Should be sweet.

5:45 p.m. I buy lilies for the party at Whole Foods. There’s a couple coming down the escalator holding hands. I’m not necessarily charmed by it, since it brings back memories of times I felt cornered and not fully myself. But other signs of PDA, like the middle-aged woman I see lightly scratching her husband’s back nearby, make me ache with envy. That’s the kind of affection I think about.

I’ve been celibate since December 2022, starting a few months before my ex and I broke up. The first year of celibacy was mostly a huge relief. But now coming up on two years, I’m kind of stressed. Sex is pretty important and sacred to me, so I think in order to break out of that I would have to feel pretty connected, honest, and open with someone. Kissing is separate from celibacy, but again for me that kind of intimacy is a big deal. I’ve only kissed one person since my ex, this girl I went on a date with back in June. I identify as bisexual, but I’ve only had sex with men. I’ve dated women over the past year, but it’s a slow progression of coming out and figuring out my sexuality. I don’t feel traditionally “horny” that often. I think when I’m drunk it gets amped up slightly. But in general, I feel more of a craving for touch than a craving for sex.

6 p.m. On the way to the party, I check Hinge in the car and see a total of two likes, both from men. Today, one guy’s profile has “I once ate three whole pizzas” in the two truths and a lie section. This makes me laugh because it’s so arbitrary, but it isn’t doing much for me. I really can’t imagine sleeping with anyone I meet on an app. And whenever I meet someone through an app, I just have the urge to ask them about how it’s been meeting other people on an app.

I have, however, made genuine friendships through Hinge, which is enough for me. And I feel like I’ve made a lot of connections over the past couple years, even if they haven’t been physical. There’s G, a girl I went on a date with last August who then invited me to a craft night. I became looped in with her friend group, and we’ve become close. No sexual tension, all love. There was S, a boy I went to high school with who became a videographer. We reconnected over DMs and then watched movies and went to concerts together. Neither of us ever made a move. I actually did have a crush on him, but even that was devoid of sexual feeling; it was more romantic and intellectual.

9:57 p.m. Back at my apartment. I drank a decent amount of Moët and enjoyed seeing a bunch of women of all ages enjoying one another’s company.

DAY TWO

12:30 p.m. Roll out of bed. I’m on a 2 a.m.-to-noon sleeping schedule, and I’m never gonna change. Had a dream that my friend made a Claymation film about feminist theory and revenge. It was so good I got kind of jealous while sleeping.

1:58 p.m. My roommate and best friend, A, makes us the French omelet with potato chips from season two of The Bear. It’s a revelation. My friends all know about my celibacy and we talk about it often. A lot of them are celibate too, some for about a year, some for longer. Not all of them actually use the term celibate or identify that way, though. A tells me that many of her friends haven’t had sex in a year or more.

4:30 p.m. My friend D comes over and reads my chart (I’m a Taurus sun and Cancer moon and rising) and says I have a lot of sexual power, which is funny. Most of the time, I feel like this banal sexless avatar. It’s hard to see myself in a sexual light, especially when there’s no one to reflect it. I definitely think it’s possible to be celibate and sexual, though I have not found this balance for myself. This afternoon, I tried to tune into my celibate but sexual power, which manifested in dancing in the mirror, painting, and then masturbating.

6 p.m. I’m now heading to the lake to drink Peroni and lay in the late-evening sun with my friends C and E.

11 p.m. I got drunk at the lake. We talked about our old friend who’s in a terrible relationship, and also talked about our friends with new loves. C and E are both in happy relationships (not with each other). The relationships are not the main feature of their lives, though, and they tend to make quality time for friendship. I think I’m attracted to E. He’s such a stunningly beautiful man, but he just feels out of reach, and he’s with someone else anyway.

1:01 a.m. I’m feeling cynical. The day turned worse, in my post-drunk, home-alone haze. I’m listening to the new Clairo. She has a song about being “touch-starved and shameless,” which I relate to. I’m wearing a shirt my ex got me to sleep; it’s not intentional, but it stays in the sleep-shirt rotation. I’m thinking about all the gifts I got him and wondering if he uses them. An East Fork mug, a pasta spider. These items are so practical, it would be weird if he didn’t. I don’t really miss these old relationships. I particularly don’t miss the sex. I gave a lot of placative blowjobs and orgasmed rarely, if ever. I often felt like I was playing a role and never really felt like myself during sex, more like a reflection of someone else’s desire. It was always heady and anxiety provoking. I do miss the familiarity, just having someone who knows me well, or sees the patterns in me. I also miss falling in love.

DAY THREE

9:40 a.m. At work, the baby is sleeping and I’m reading The New Yorker, mostly cartoons though. The mom is heavily pregnant, seven months at this point.

Noon I’m looking at the notes she leaves around the house for things her husband needs to do. It’s things like empty the dishwasher. Or bathe the kids. It irritates me that she has to leave notes for him to do this, because shouldn’t he know?

3:08 p.m. I keep going on Hinge. This man, K, asks me if I’d ever heard of the movie Juno. I think that’s such a stupid question. Then he admits that he’s only in town for the month but asks me to get a drink. I have definitely not said anything on Hinge about being celibate. I worry that people will be super-confused about why I’m on a dating app if not for sex (and to be fair, it is a little confusing — I’m not completely sure what I’m looking for, either). I do have the message “looking for shared interests and connection, love to meet new people but can’t promise anything romantic :)” under dating intentions, so I hope my general energy is understood. If I met anyone I liked, I’d tell them everything, of course.

4 p.m. I delete the app. I feel pretty ambivalent about dating, but some recent experiences have reminded me why I don’t like dating or feel much sexual attraction. A few weeks ago, I went on a date with a philosophy Ph.D. student that was so adversarial it was almost hot. We shared an appreciation for the band Mannequin Pussy, but he also asked me to my face if I thought I was smart and then quoted Freud. I left that date feeling gross.

This is all to say, if I’m being honest with myself, my celibacy isn’t exactly an intentional thing. I essentially saw Julia Fox name and claim her celibacy and realized I aligned with her. I’m using the term amcel, or ambivalent celibate. It just happens that I don’t want to have sex. I’ve also started wondering if Zoloft could be part of this — I went on it before I’d even had sex, and it did make me noticeably less sexual (even just in terms of what I thought about or what turned me on). Interestingly, I also met and started dating both of the boyfriends I’ve had while briefly off Zoloft.

6:25 p.m. My roommate, A; her older sister; and her older sister’s fiancé pick me up from work. They met on J swipe five years ago and they’re very wholesome. We’re driving to Michigan for the weekend.

11:39 p.m. We’re at my roommate’s family’s lake house. It’s great family time. Except with someone else’s family.

DAY FOUR

9 a.m. I did not dream about my ex last night.

10:31 a.m. I’m a little disoriented, because I woke up and the power is out from the rain.

Noon Feeling a little blue because A might move to Spain in October to take a teaching position through the government. I’m sad to potentially lose her, but nothing is definite. We’re leaving for a boat ride, so there’s no time to actually be sad. A’s other sister brought her situationship to the lake house. He lives in Berlin, and they refuse to do long distance, so they’re a bit stuck. Which makes sense. My last relationship was long distance for its entirety. I personally liked that dynamic. He did not.

4:19 p.m. Go on the boat with my roommate, her parents, her sister’s fiancé, and her other sister’s Berlin man. Being in a swimsuit sucks.

8 p.m. Playing Settlers of Catan.

DAY FIVE 

10:15 a.m. I go for a coffee with Berlin man and older sister and A.

1:10 p.m.  We’re still at the cabin. We have to get home by 7 for a birthday party back in the city.

8:10 p.m. A friend I met at a music festival, B, invited me to her Brat-themed birthday. I feel like the song “Rewind” off the album a little right now, but I’m on my way regardless. I don’t know anyone except B and my roommate, so it should be interesting.

12:10 a.m.  The Brat party was fun and cute. We made friends, if just for the night. Someone crocheted a Brat pan holder for her, and I made her a Brat bracelet and a joint. I drank and got too high, and it started pouring sheets of rain. It was fun to meet new people, but scary at first, and the rain made everything more intense. The Logan Square crowd can be slightly intimidating, but I’m glad we went.

12:30 a.m. Feeling emboldened post-party, I reload the dating apps. I swipe up on someone. He responds. There are tornado warnings across Chicago, so it’s an easy excuse to talk to anyone. I don’t care what anyone says, the weather is an interesting topic.

12:31 a.m. He liked my weather sentiments with a yellow heart. What are you supposed to say to that? Nothing.

DAY SIX

10:23 a.m. Thinking about another ex, J. We haven’t dated for a few years. Wondering, mostly, if I’ll ever stop thinking about him. Also wondering what my life would be like if we stayed together. Trying to remind myself that I used to cry next to him while he was asleep because I was so unhappy. Yikes.

2:18 p.m. Seeking true-crime podcasts because I need some kind of thrill. I’m about to get my period and it’s making me depressed, bloated, bored, and nostalgic. The perfect combo.

2:45 p.m. Googling “femcel.”

8:37 p.m. I’m on my way to a late-night beach hang with friends. When we arrive, there are some guys hanging out there, too. I want to go up to them and say hi, but I don’t. But I think we are all kind of looking at each other. The cute guy next to us looks like Jack Schlossberg with a mustache, and he was definitely listening to our conversation. I don’t want to center men in my life and I don’t want to fail the Bechdel Test in my conversations with friends, but sometimes it happens.

DAY SEVEN

10 a.m. Wake up from bizarre dreams.

11 a.m. Go to the post office with A to drop off a birthday package for my brother. My other brother just got his name in the credits for his first TV show. Big day for the siblings!

1 p.m. Two group chats text about plans this week — a clothing swap on Friday and a movie in Millennium Park tonight. My friend from Hinge, G, is coming into town this weekend for a concert and she’s staying with us.

2 p.m. I get my eyebrows threaded with A. I love getting them done just because it’s nice to have someone touch my face.

4:45 p.m. Jump in the lake with A and then run to watch E.T. at Millennium Park with friends. I love Chicago.

11:20 p.m. Home now. I wonder if I would be more sexual if I was not on Zoloft. I try to masturbate, but nothing is really working for me. I look up therapists in my area and on my health insurance. I sometimes feel confused about how sex and relationships seem to be the societal default. I can’t believe the expectation is to meet someone and just … be with them. It seems like that should be the exception, not the rule. Ultimately, I feel like my relationships with my friends are the most fulfilling part of my life. I just need someone to scratch my back occasionally.

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