Why January Is Actually the Best Time to Go Sex Sober
It’s no secret that the new year is synonymous with reinvention. Change is not just encouraged, it’s so deeply drilled into us that it can feel as if everyone has become brainwashed overnight. The colleague who was mainlining tequila shots at the office Christmas party has taken up Acroyoga. That younger relative who spent New Year’s Eve at a 36-hour rave has built a plunge pool in his garden. And that friend who barely slept all December has started sending you TikTok clips about biohacking. Everyone is, suddenly, very into protein.
It makes sense that dating is wrapped up into of all this. As a single woman, I’ve been inundated with online (and offline) messaging telling me that now is the optimum time to revamp my love life. I’m made to feel as though I need to start the year with a fresh approach to maximize my gains. Refreshing dating app profiles, healing my attachment style, going on double the number of dates, chatting people up in new environments… all of this effort and apparent “self-improvement” to put me in the best possible standing to attain that most covetable of things: a relationship. Or at least, you know, someone to sleep with.
It’s a seductive premise, which is why I’ve often leaned into it—taking my love life (and libido) by the horns and throwing myself into every situation as soon as the clock strikes midnight. This has actually led to a lot of bad (or even just pointless) decisions, like spontaneous dates with men who’d slid into my DMs while nursing the flu, surreptitiously sucking on lozenges between pints. Or agreeing to set-ups with men I wasn’t attracted to, thinking that I might randomly change my mind. I sought out people who couldn’t have been less compatible with me, ignoring brazen red flags and getting completely carried away with the idea of someone.
Obviously, all of this was January’s fault (I’ll save self-analysis for my therapist). After extensive field research, I’m convinced that, actually, this is not the time of year for dating—nor even casual sex. Instead, it makes so much more sense to give yourself a period of sexual and romantic sobriety, taking time out from it all and investing in your hobbies, nourishing your friendships, taking care of your body, and channeling all of that newfound energy back into yourself and those around you. Maybe by the end of the month you’ll feel revitalized and ready for whatever romantic prospects come your way. Or, you know, maybe you won’t.
This year feels different already. I quietly deleted the apps from my phone just after Christmas—something I’ve previously only done mid-tantrum—and have made wholesome plans with friends to fill weekends that might’ve previously been occupied by dates: homemade dinners, cinema trips, long walks, trips to see pals outside of London. Dating isn’t something I feel compelled to put my energy into this month, at least not to the degree where I’m seeking someone for the sake of fulfilling an arbitrary resolution that an overzealous Instagrammer told me to set. I’d rather prioritize myself for a while. So far, I’d recommend it. If nothing else, not dating gives you so much time back. Do you have any idea how much admin is involved in pre-date beauty rituals?
I look back on Januarys of years gone by with a bit of resentment; I fear that I wasted my time and energy on other people when I could’ve been looking after myself. All of us make better decisions when we feel better about ourselves, particularly when it comes to sex and especially when it comes to matters of the heart. Keep your January dry, and who knows what could be waiting for you in February. Or March. Or April. Whenever your rainy season arrives, you’ll certainly be better equipped after a brief intermission. Or a long intermission. Or maybe even a step away entirely.
