What does it mean to take a break?
Going on a walk? Turning off your phone and opening up a book?
For author Melissa Febos, years of destructive relationships left her in need of a different kind of break – giving up sex. Febos embarked on a year-long journey of abstinence from romantic and sexual relationships.
Febos joined Connecticut Public’s “Where We Live” to discuss her experience and share what she discovered about herself. It’s chronicled in her book: “The Dry Season: A Memoir of Pleasure in a Year Without Sex.”
Interview highlights
On addiction and sexual relationships
I identify as an addict in recovery. And you know, I was open to the idea that I might be a sex and love addict. But it wasn't that simple, because not all of my relationships fit into that rubric.
I think we're all exposed to certain stories about love and dating and how central it ought to be and how happy it ought to make us. And I think a lot of people are suffering from reaching for something and not quite finding it.
I would have been happy for a kind of simple solution. I'm an addict. I need to figure out a new kind of recovery. In the end, it didn't, it didn't end up being quite that simple for me.
On sex and love
Sex seemed to be one of the common denominators among all of these relationships. There was an erotic component to them. And I do think, as a queer person, I did already have a pretty broad definition of sex, so I had that going for me.
But in terms of love, I was calling any situation in which I felt that big swell of feeling – that preoccupied me, that released those yummiest brain chemicals in my head, that made me feel like I didn't need to eat or sleep – I just needed to think about that one person, that was the gateway to what I was calling love. And that wasn't working for me.
Wake up call
Near the beginning of my celibacy, right before I decided it, my mother said to me, she said, ‘Hey, you know, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I need you to stop bringing people home when you've only been dating them for like, two months.’
I’m in my 30s. I wasn't like, 22 you know? And I thought, ‘Oh, ouch, OK.’ Because I immediately saw what she meant. I kept bringing these people home and being like, ‘This is the new love of my life,’ and then she would never see them again.
She was like, ‘I'm putting out the good towels! I'm cooking a big meal! I get attached to these people over the weekend, and then they never come back. So, I need you to exercise a little bit more self awareness.’
On how celibacy changed her
I started with three months, right? And towards the end of that three months, I started to see the way that I was making more room in my life, in my thoughts, in my heart, for so many other things that I cared about. Including not least of which, my friendships, the other kinds of intimate love relationships in my life.
I just felt more awake to experience and I got the sense that if I walked deeper toward that feeling, it could truly change my orientation to my life and make me more authentic to myself.
And I started to think at the end of the three months, like, ‘Wait, I think I want that.’ I don't just want better dates. I want to live a life that's more in accordance with my deepest held beliefs.
Hear the full episode
Where We Live: “Author Melissa Febos explores sex, celibacy and healing in 'The Dry Season'”
This interview has been edited and condensed. Connecticut Public's Tess Terrible and Patrick Skahill contributed to this report.
