I Broke My Three-Year Celibacy Streak, And It Was So Worth It
Her Voice

I Broke My Three-Year Celibacy Streak, And It Was So Worth It

Before I knew it, I was busting it wide open.

Okay, wait… maybe I should start from the beginning.

In 2007, I met the love of my life. I was convinced that he was my person and that I had no choice but to go through heaven and hell to make this love work. He was my safe place. He knew everything about me. He was it for me. At least, that's what I thought.

Because after ten years of breaking up, making up and on-break babies, and finding out he was cheating with someone else who wasn't the baby mama, I finally realized that this was actually not my person. I thought that was the standard because I've only seen the women in my life struggle in love. But it's not.

Black women deserve a love rooted in safety, love, joy, and abundance.

Historically, Black women have been subjected to harmful stereotypes perpetuating negative perceptions. They deserve real love that breaks these stereotypes and values them for their individuality, personality, and character rather than subscribing to preconceived notions. Black women have consistently demonstrated strength, resilience, and perseverance in the face of adversity. They deserve real love that acknowledges and celebrates these qualities, providing them with the support and emotional security they deserve.

Ultimately, love should be based on genuine connection, mutual respect, and appreciation for each other's unique qualities and experiences. Like anyone else, Black women deserve a love that recognizes their worth and celebrates their individuality while acknowledging and supporting the specific challenges they may face.

I didn't realize any of this until I started therapy in 2020. For years, therapy wasn't something I subscribed to because I had never known anyone that went to therapy. And as Black people, we have foregone that type of help because we were taught Jesus was the answer to everything. But when I had sex with the person I thought was the love of my life for the last time and realized I deserved better, I also thought about why therapy may be a good tool for me to truly understand my worth and value.

Then, I watched Michaela Coel's show, I May Destroy You, and quickly uncovered some sexual traumas I had experienced as a teenager. Her creation is a groundbreaking television series that delves into the complex and nuanced topic of sexual trauma. Through its raw and unflinching portrayal, the show explores the aftermath of a sexual assault and its profound impact on the survivor's life. Coel's writing skillfully navigates the intricate layers of consent, power dynamics, and the long-lasting effects of trauma, challenging societal norms and expectations.

With a mix of dark humor, introspection, and vulnerability, I May Destroy You provides a platform for meaningful conversations about consent, self-discovery, healing, and the strength of survivors. Coel's powerful storytelling sheds light on the often silenced experiences of sexual trauma survivors, advocating for empathy, understanding, and meaningful change in our collective agreement of consent and support for survivors.

Feeling the weight of these emotions and their profound impact on my being, I decided to embrace celibacy.

Photo courtesy of Joce Blake

It became crucial for me to redefine my self-connection and explore how my relationship with sex influenced my self-perception. Through the transformative process of therapy, I was able to unravel the tangled threads of my experiences, enabling me to discern my preferences and boundaries. Even amidst the challenging and often disheartening world of dating, I found opportunities to explore uncharted aspects of my identity that had previously remained hidden from me.

Therapy provided me with a nurturing space to discover and embrace the pieces of myself that I never knew existed, allowing me to grow and evolve on my journey of self-discovery.

Now, we're here.

I've been dating more since I moved to Brooklyn from Denver. Because for a minute, Denver had me thinking I wasn't a baddie. The dynamics of desirability politics in Denver took a toll on my self-confidence as a Black woman. The prevalent societal standards and expectations of attractiveness prioritize specific characteristics that did not align with my own identity.

It led me to question and doubt my worth, as the narrow definition of desirability failed to acknowledge and celebrate Black women's diverse beauty and value. However, I have come to recognize that true beauty and self-worth transcend these limited perceptions. Embracing my unique qualities and celebrating the richness of my heritage has empowered me to redefine my own standards of desirability, rejecting the damaging influence of external judgment and embracing self-acceptance and self-love.

Just like the universe does, I now met a man who sees me in ways I wish I saw myself.

He makes me feel safe emotionally and physically. He is a cultured hood (IYKYK) and also the kindest person I've ever known. We love balance — we need balance. Taking care of me emotionally and physically is his highest priority; I have never felt that before. Best of all, the emotional intelligence is out of this world.

Before I knew it, I was busting it wide open.

It was more than worth it because it was intentional, and it felt extraordinarily special.

I am delighted that I chose to wait and break my celibacy for someone who genuinely values me in the same way I value myself. By exercising patience and prioritizing my self-worth, I ensured that the person I chose to share that intimate connection with was someone who recognized and respected my value.

This decision has affirmed my belief in the importance of self-love and selecting a partner who aligns with my principles and treats me with the love and respect I deserve. It is a gratifying feeling to know that I made a conscious decision to wait for someone who appreciates and cherishes me just as much as I do myself.

Let’s make things inbox official! Sign up for the xoNecole newsletter for daily love, wellness, career, and exclusive content delivered straight to your inbox.

Feature image by PeopleImages/ Getty Images




This article is in partnership with SheaMoisture

For Crystal Obasanya, her wash day woes came shortly after her son did. The beauty and lifestyle content creator had been natural for years, but during postpartum, she quickly learned about one reality many mothers can relate to experiencing: postpartum hair loss. “Sis had thinning hair. Sis had split ends,” she shared about her hair changes in a Reel via xoNecole.


Back when I was the teen mom director for the local chapter of a national non-profit organization, I decided to become a doula. One reason was that I couldn’t stand how disrespectfully dismissive a lot of doctors were towards pregnant teenagers (how you gonna pre-schedule C-sections in girls who are in their first trimester?). My second reason was to do some healing from my own past pregnancy choices (check out “Why I Named The Children I Aborted”). Over time, another reason was that when a woman has a child, she needs support for more than just birthing her baby.