Does casual sex block my chances at love?

Why does every encounter have to be an intentional, meaningful step towards a relationship?

📸 Kaye Ford

My therapist and I have spoken endlessly over the past three years about dichotomies. At this point I feel like I’ve come to be defined by them.

From being a mixed woman, to living in the US and the UK, to being a married woman to now not, to having a somewhat public-facing job and persona to “who I really am”…I’ve always felt clear separations between these spaces that I inhabit, and in our sessions I’ll struggle to articulate my need for both and all.

“What would it look like if…” is the way she leads me to answer my questions.

Ultimately the root of what it is I actually want. Not what I think I should want. Not what other people tell me I should want.

Growing up Catholic, I’ve always had my hang ups about sex and combined with a severely negative body image at a young age through to young adulthood made me riddled with anxiety.

Who would ever find me attractive enough to want to sleep with me?

What I wish I knew then, as it turns out, attention from men is the most infinite resource in the world.

Now love, on the other hand, may be another thing entirely.

So I did what a lot of us do and confused sex with love — or rather used sex in the hope that it would lead me to love. And at times I was successful! Others, not so much.

Back to my last session with my therapist. She’s heard me go on and on over the last four years about the end of my marriage, to a new relationship, to the end of that relationship and lots of dating, casual sex and situationships sprinkled in between.

What I always end up asking is: how do I navigate looking for love while also wanting sex?

It sounds silly, but is difficult to admit as a straight woman.

So much of the messaging for single women who date men is about “respecting yourself” and “never settling for less than you deserve”, the underlying meaning of this being, don’t allow fuckboys into your orbit who only want one thing if you want something more.

Now, on principle, I don’t disagree with that! I don’t want to be disrespected, I don’t want to feel used or taken advantage of.

But I don’t believe that enjoying sleeping with someone knowing that it isn’t going to amount to anything long-term means that you don’t have respect for yourself. Or that the person you’re sleeping with casually inherently doesn’t have respect for you.

Likewise, the idea of “blocking your blessings”. That you have to get rid of the wrong person so that the right person can enter into your life.

Again, there are elements of truth in that. I believe there is no point in staying in a relationship that isn’t serving you, that doesn’t make you happy, and being able to be happy alone is going to unlock so many big, beautiful things in life.

But I don’t believe that wanting sex with “the wrong person” means that you will never find the right one. That avoiding the unserious will lead you straight into the arms of the one you were looking for all along. I don’t think anything has ever been that simple.

Even the casual sex that I’ve had has been loving. I may not have fallen in love with them, and they may not have fallen in love with me, but there’s still moments of connection and fun and enjoyment in that intimacy that has a place in my life. And even if it didn’t…that’s okay too!

Despite this burst of optimism, I rage at the fact that men get to fuck without consequence, how it is inherently “natural” for them and for us it’s an impulse that we have control over and have learned to withhold only to reward good behaviour. It’s different for them, and that doesn’t sit right with me.

I often question if casual sex even really for me, going back and forth trying to assign meaning to it and to my character, when actually it’s just…neutral.

And we do ourselves — women — a disservice to separate sex and the wanting of it to “certain kinds” of women. We fall foul to the same patriarchal ideas about the absence of sex and wanting it being tied to women’s morality which is all about control.

I know so many women who are finding abstinence is the best route for them. And I will wholeheartedly back that. The pursuit of a relationship weighed up against sleeping with men just isn’t worth it, so downing tools is the only other option. At the end of the day it’s simply just not for everyone.

Women’s bodies are under relentless attack and why wouldn’t you do what you had to do to protect yourself physically and emotionally? It makes sense. And we get to choose what suits us best at the end of the day.

For the longest time I was ashamed to admit that I actually enjoy sex. And as a sensitive person who can get attached easily, I’ve always been advised by my friends to avoid it.

You’re just going to get hurt.

📸 Kaye Ford

I’ve held on to this belief that because I’m sensitive, emotional, and soft that means I am fragile. But I’m actually pretty resilient. I’m not immune to heartbreak like anyone else, I’ve survived it many times before. It’s normal to get hurt, just like it’s normal to fall in love, even with the most causal of partners. I can handle it.

I’m just…kind of tired of trying to make sense of everything all the time.

I’ve analysed and over-analysed the behaviour of men who have come in and out of my life, tried to understand the meaning behind the things they say and do. Oftentimes the two don’t ever seem to match up, but over time I don’t think that’s because they are men, I think it’s just human.

None of this is a get-out-of-jail free card for cruel behaviour. Lack of communication, withholding information, manipulation, breadcrumbing, love bombing has no place in any relationship, no matter how casual. Something so many of us fail to remember that we exist in relation to one another.

Just because this isn’t the relationship, doesn’t mean that we don’t have a relationship.

I’ve gone over this countless times with my best friend — the realist, ever pragmatic and the protector of my romantic heart. There have been times when I’ve told her about a man I was seeing and I was unsure of where things are going. We’re casually sleeping together, going out from time to time.

“It’s not anything, but it’s something”, I tell her, because that’s true to me. Not every encounter means something but they’re not all meaningless. My therapist must hate going over this again and again with me…

Navigating sex and dating has felt like chess and I don’t know how to play.

And so often it’s because I’ve been made to feel like I shouldn’t care. Whoever cares the least gets what they want, whether it’s sex or a relationship. It can certainly never be both.

For the longest time I thought these two were at odds with one another. Wanting sex and wanting love.

The cruelest of these is the situationship, where I silently hoped for more knowing that the other person would never be interested in a relationship with me.

And as fearful as I am about falling foul to those traps, I think a lot of that fear can stem from past guilt, shame, and worry.

At times I feel like coming at things with an open heart and mind means that I’m more than likely to get hurt. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have boundaries and it doesn’t mean that I have a lack of self-worth.

I’ve grown a lot and ultimately any relationship, casual or not, exists as a nice bonus to this beautiful life. That’s not to say my life is fully realised, but I still think two (or more!) flawed people can enjoy each other's company without having to feel like they’re building a life together.

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About me: I'm Nicole, the writer of A Crumb of Romance. I’m the co-author of The Half of It: Exploring the Mixed-Race Experience, a content creator and the co-host of the award-winning Mixed Up podcast. Having been chronically online since the age of 13, you can also find me on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and Pinterest.

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