I’ve turned celibate to save my love life

With Valentine’s Day finally here, some might be thinking that celibacy could act a hindrance and a deterrent to women. But this is not the case, readers. Today I have a lovely dinner date planned with a charming woman who is fully aware of my situation. “Is she mad?” I hear you ask. Clearly yes – not because I’m celibate – but because she has agreed to go on a date with me where I will no doubt bore her to death with Tab-les (Tab tales, it’s a thing).

My friends and I, over the past 3 years in Cambridge, have fallen in and out of relationships as quickly and as often as the Tab writes articles about sex and scandal to improve readership.  We have, as I’m sure you all have done, rationalised that this surely is a direct result of the intensity that Cambridge pumps into all aspects of our lives. I’m not the only one who has found that in Cambridge the universal “3 date rule” has become a “1 date rule as I need to finish my essay and don’t have the time for these pleasantries”. Consequently I find myself sleeping with people who, if I had taken more time with, I probably wouldn’t have as I would have realised that we were completely incompatible (I don’t subscribe to the mantra of “You don’t fuck a personality” that I often hear passed around the Cindies urinals).

I am not trying to bore you all with sentimental, cathartic rubbish but this period of celibacy has made me realise a few things about the often entwined ideas of a man’s masculinity and sexual prowess. Walking into hall after an eventful night for my college drinking society I hear friends being congratulated on their sexual exploits. These aren’t kind congratulations but something more sinister – this social acceptance purely determined on who has the metaphorical “big balls” (something that has actually now become a sing-along within my college). Please don’t confuse me, I’m not slamming drinking societies, but simply trying to draw the comparison between the above congratulations, and say the congratulations of a now happy couple who, after an extensive year of playing the “long game”, are actually happy. So this period of celibacy has given me that – a perspective that I perhaps had lost sight of when becoming immersed in college social dynamics. A perspective that attempts to slow down how I approach sex and relationships, and allow me to make rational decisions.

You may say that I’m just having time off from sex, but it’s something subtly different – celibacy has forced me to take things slow. I agree that I could just be more restrained, or have better judgement, but these things seem to escape me when I’ve just been told my dissertation reads like GCSE coursework. My judgement is not one of my strong points, to such an extent that my friend Claire demands to screen all the women in my life, so telling myself that I’m celibate seems to set up a mental wall. I view this wall as somewhat like my now lost virginity; when I feel I have actually found someone who is sensible, the gates of the wall will open and let me inside. Like a vagina.

Ladies, this is what you’re missing out on

So that’s it – it’s not an excuse because I’m not getting any, it’s not because I’m a boring 3^rd year who has no time for these things, it’s a mental exercise to help restore my better judgment in a university that often drives people insane.