My dear readers,

I would not want you to think I am a sexaholic. Quite the contrary, I tend to go long periods of time without either having sex or indeed even thinking about sex. When my soon-to-be-ex-husband and I split up, we were having 10 days intervals between having sex.

After we separated, I did not have (or indeed want to have) sex for ten months. I wondered whether there was something wrong with me. Would I enjoy sex ever again? Our boring, routinistic and unsatisfying sex life was symptomatic of many other problems in our relationship. It became the elephant in the room. We did not talk about it, let alone try to fix it. I simply did not enjoy having sex with him anymore, but became very self-conscious about it because I thought that I was the problem. I wondered whether I was a lesbian and even went so far as to tell him this during the course of our protracted break-up. That didn't go down well.

The problem was this: I could not orgasm during sex without the use of my vibrating friend. Even oral sex did not get me off. The concept of the g-spot vaginal orgasm was as foreign to me as Cantonese. This bred serious feelings of sexual inadequacy in me. The result was that after P and I split, I had no interest in sex, and honestly wondered whether I could shake the negative feelings. Months passed, and I began to start to feel better about myself. I started thinking about sex again when I realised that it was soon approaching one year since I last had sex.

In August I went on a beach holiday to Turkey by myself. I discovered Turkish men to be completely shameless in their attempts to hit on women. I had been in the country for about twelve hours before a man in a shop called me over and started telling me how beautiful I wad and was unlike other girls. Um, ok.

He asked whether he could show me around Fethiye, which I accepted because its always nice to be shown around by a local. It was nice, but I started to feel like I wanted to be alone. We walked back to his shop (he owned a slightly tacky shop of imitation designer clothes) and he tried to kiss me, but I managed to dodge it. I insisted that I needed to go back to my hotel to meet my (imaginary) friends. He was rather persistent but I did manage to get away and start walking back to the buss stop, only to find that he had followed me on his motor bike and tried to offer me a ride. After a firm no, I managed to carry on alone.

That night I went to a party on the beach and one of the holiday reps invited me out for a drink after the party. He seemed nice enough, so why not. He picked me up later on his motorbike and we went to a place that was charmingly called Club Grand Boozy. He got a bit frisky with me, but I didn't mind because I found that I was actually enjoying it. We went back to his place, which he interestingly shared with the girl who was the holiday rep for my hotel - he was slightly paranoid because if she came home and found him with me, he may get sacked. We did have a fun time and I was thrilled to find that I actually could enjoy sex again. With my confidence up again and the realisation that I was not necessarily doomed to an unenjoyable sex life for the rest of my life, I went on to have two more one night stands with some local men (one of which was pretty crap, but I felt good in thinking that it was not my fault).

The holiday was fantastic and I returned with a renewed confidence in myself in that I can be an attractive and sexual person. The orgasm thing is still a bit of a bother, but I have learned that this is not the be all and end all of enjoying sex.

My sex life is still a work in progress.