It’s no secret that the coronavirus era has massively changed the way many people relate to their own sexualities. Some people are coming out as gay, bi, or pan; some are realizing they’re further toward the asexual end of the spectrum than they realized; some are trying new sex toys, kinks, or positions; some have forgotten what sexual desire in non-stressful times even feels like.
I find all of this deeply relatable and understandable. My own desire levels have waxed and waned countless times during the past year, but mostly they have waned. I’m still having sex regularly, due to the genius ministrations of my lovely spouse, who has read Emily Nagoski’s Come As You Are cover to cover and thus understands how to turn on someone whose sexual brakes are engaged and whose desire is responsive, not spontaneous. But there are also non-sexual things I find nearly as exciting as sex these days, that help me relax and experience simple pleasures in much the same way as sex can.
I abhor those books and articles that joke “porn for women” can be pictures of men doing housework or childcare, as if 1) women have no inherent sexuality and 2) men being functional adults constitutes sexiness all on its own. So that’s not what I’m doing here (and if your domestic partner’s been doing all the dishes or scrubbing all the toilets lately, maybe go do some of that right now). But here are 5 non-sexual things that have consistently given me rushes of near-pornographic pleasure, relaxation, and satisfaction over the past year. They may not be as racy (or as stigmatized) as the most-viewed clips on the top porn sites, but they help me nonetheless.
1. Building Sims houses
I had resisted getting into The Sims 4 for ages, despite having adored the original games as a kid/teen, because The Sims 3 didn’t impress me all that much (I thought the open-world-ness of it all was weirdly out of step with the game I’d fallen in love with). But then the pandemic hit, and what was I gonna do, not buy a life simulation game that allows me to travel and socialize and go to work at a time when I couldn’t do any of those things IRL?!
There are a lot of things I love about this latest iteration of the game, most notably that they have better options for your Sims’ gender identity/expression and that there are several super inventive expansion packs, including one called Eco Lifestyle so your Sims can reduce their carbon footprint now (amazing). But the building part of the game is more versatile and fun than ever, so much so that entire communities have sprung up on YouTube, Instagram, etc. focusing on beautiful houses people have built in their games.
I think I find it relaxing and satisfying to build houses in The Sims because it gives me a huge amount of control, at a time when I feel very out of control in the rest of my life. It’s also really neat to watch Sims living their lives in a space I built from the ground up – kind of like how it can be gratifying to build a kink scene for a partner and then usher them through it.
2. Loungewear shops
I’ve written about loungewear a lot here over the past year, so I won’t repeat myself too much, but suffice it to say… most days I would rather slither into a crimson modal slip than slide into some Tinder beefcake’s arms (or DMs).
3. Flirty fanfiction
Something I learned about myself, in my earliest forays into non-monogamy nearly a decade ago, is that when I’m not allowed to date/kiss/fuck people other than my partner, it’s not the sex I miss most – it’s the flirting.
In fact, many times, I’d rather skip the sex entirely, which I know is not exactly a common stance in the non-monogamy community. But the sex I have with an established partner is so much better than the sex I have with randoms, in part because of my complex web of anxieties, fantasies, kinks, and physical limitations. It’s the flirty banter, the innuendo-laced double-entendres, the rising heat of my own blushing face that I miss most about dating other people.
But since I have neither the energy nor the vaccination status to do that stuff right now, fanfiction is one area where I’m able to live out those flirty fantasies and feel transported into a romantically intriguing life other than my own. Romance novels work great for this too, of course, but sometimes I just don’t have the mental wherewithal to spend time getting to know new characters; I just want to read about characters I already know and love, making each other giggle. Is that so much to ask?
4. Comedy, in all its many forms
The three things that got me through this pandemic, above all else: my spouse, my family, and comedy. It’s as simple as that.
Matt and I have torn through multiple comedy TV shows this past year; we’ve (re-)watched practically every comedy movie I’ve ever loved (most recently: School of Rock, an absolute masterpiece of poignant goofiness); we’ve laughed our asses off at weekly live improv shows over Zoom (PLEASE subscribe to the Bad Dog Comedy TV channel on YouTube if you’re into this!). My days and weeks have often felt structured around comedy, oriented towards it. Some people are “workin’ for the weekend”; I’m working to get through the day until I can watch Stephen Colbert or Maya Rudolph or Tom Hearn or Catherine O’Hara at night.
Matt sometimes semi-jokes that watching comedy together is the best foreplay for me, and I think they’re right on the money with that theory. It helps distract me from the troubles of the day, ease my physical and mental tension, and flood my body with endorphins. It made this year bearable for me, which is no small thing at all.
5. Poetry in the bath
Modern poets like Rachel Rabbit White, Shane Koyczan, and Zoe Whittall have inspired me deeply over the course of this pandemic. I’ve devoured their books, and various other poetry tomes, at lightning speed. I’ve even started writing poetry myself, something I hadn’t done with any degree of seriousness in many years, despite it being a favorite hobby in high school (I even won some contests and got published in some anthologies back then). It feels like a way to rediscover beauty in a world currently so stripped of it.
Reading poetry in the bath is particularly hedonistic. I’ll usually load up the tub with some scented bath salts, light a candle, and lay down in the hot water with my waterproof Kindle in hand. I take my time with each poem, trying to absorb its artful words and its layers of meaning. I build a little world for myself in the tub, glittering and beguiling, in a way that everyday life once was and might be again someday. It makes me feel like a normal human again, despite everything that’s going on.
Poetry “frees us from the tyranny of the sentence,” says Rachel Rabbit White; “poetry is play.” We could all use some freedom from tyranny after the year we’ve had. We could all use some play.
This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.