Image of 'Inside Amy Schumer' via YouTube.
I knew I was done having sex after a couple of thrusts into the last time I had sex. It was a very deliberate farewell fuck with my ex-boyfriend a few hours before my one-way flight back home. In the middle of wondering whether or not my carry-on bag would fit in the overhead compartment, my entire sex life suddenly flashed before my eyes. It was brief.I had met the man inside of me a year before this moment. I'd just turned 21, and after considering my friends' impressive advancements, I was panicking that I might be a virgin long enough for TLC to give me a reality TV show. I was waiting around for the perfect moment, with the perfect man, on the perfect fireside Tempurpedic mattress. Instead, there was "Tom," in late June, on a cot in the guest bedroom of my second cousin's apartment. Tom was a nice, good guy whose biggest appeal to me was that he thought my YouTube videos were funny. We met by chance in a New York City bar, he asked me to be his girlfriend two weeks later, and I gave him my virginity the next day.We liked the same movies and made each other laugh, but the real lifeblood of our relationship was sex. We eventually moved in together with high hopes of advancing our careers in the city. Instead, we had endless disillusioned, drunken sex until we ran out of money. As I was being half-heartedly throttled by Tom for the last time, I promised myself I would never let my loins derail my life again: I was done with sex.
My friends laughed at me initially. It was still funny to them at six months, but became depressing at nine, and inconceivable at a year. By 18-months, I was expected to admit my allegiance to a secretive anti-sex cult. Now that I've passed the two-year mark, nobody knows what to do with me. I've had people send me to the demisexuality resource center, suggest I review tumblr identity indexes and take pseudo-scientific orientation quizzes, but none of them change the one big lesson I came away with after having sex: I believe it is counterproductive to success.I found it exhausting, a time-wasting activity not worth the effort.