Sex You Regret

It happens. In the spur of the moment, you make a decision based on your hormones rather than your intellect… or you sleep with an ex you really shouldn’t even be talking to (remember, it didn’t work for a reason!). Maybe you kept hoping a longtime relationship would work itself out, but it never did, or you got stuck in a routine you couldn’t break free of.

You know the story and it always leads to regret. So why did you do it? Well, if you’re lucky, there was an ah-ha moment in the sex you regretted where you learned your shameful lesson and used it to move on to a better place. So here are a few of our stories that we hope you can see the lesson in.

Sex with an ex
I guess the only times, I’ve ever found sex regrettable is when I’ve had sex with an ex. More than twice, I upped an old lover’s hopes by jumping into the sack with them, luring them directly into my bedroom upon their appearance at my door, after I had instigated the booty call. I was, if memory serves me right, just beating the bushes for some good old-fashioned fun between the sheets, and they, I fear, were thinking that I’d come around to some long, thought-out realization that they were nearer and dearer to my heart than they actually were – but those ideas had never even crossed my mind. They were thrilled that I had called. And the sex was good – like makeup sex is good. But afterwards, there was that awful, self-conscious “Now what do I do?” moment when all was over and done with, and they had things to say. Things like, “So where do we go from here?” and “I’ve really, really missed you…” The fact is, sex with those exes was hurtful for them, and then for me, after I realized that I had raised their hopes by contacting them. The next time, I made one of those crazy, suggestive, what-are-you-doing-right-now calls, I did not neglect to let them know that my question came with no strings attached.

Ah-ha! moment
The guy was totally into me. Followed me around at gigs, asked all my friends about me continually, bought me drinks, tried to charm me and anyone I was with, defended my honor in our industry when gossip arose. The sweet, cute radio guy who worked for the hottest major label at the time, would call me during the day “just to chat.” He took me to dinner (and paid!) while trying to be kitsch and funny – but (you know the story), I just wasn’t that into him ! But one night, my far more exciting British band member lover had just returned to his “real life” in London after we had been attached at the hip for nearly a month, and I was really, really bummed. So I called the L.A. radio boy and went over to see his cool new place in the canyon, not that far from my Hollywood apartment. It was on nice wooded land and he talked about how his mom helped him buy his hip set of dining room furniture. We had a few (domestic – ick) beers and I decided to stay over. And can I tell you it was the worst, boyish, sweaty sex I have ever had! Yuck.

In the morning, I couldn’t wait to get out of his little paradise. So, I headed back down the hill early (“Sorry, Bud, I can’t stay for breakfast, I have early deadlines!”). Sitting outside Buzz Coffee (blissfully alone), staring up at the Hollywood Hills with my latte in hand, I could feel my destiny silently buzzing all around me. And, no, it didn’t include the nice guy less than a mile away. In that moment of clarity I resolved to 1) never have a one-night stand again, 2) be celibate until my real soulmate arrived, 3) Never date a geeky American guy again. And you know what? I stuck to my resolutions of that day and six months later, I met my gorgeous, lovely (and yes, British!), husband to be! So the next time you have sex you regret, use the clarity of your emotions to get in touch with who you really are and what you really want. Good luck.

Bad routine
I’m no germaphobe (I don’t go to meetings for it!), but I’m terrified of diseases – and there seems to be many running around these days now that sex has been “revolutionized.” I’ve had my share of one night stands, but it appears that with each one I seem to begin washing my hands more and more. OCD I know, but I’ve seen too many after school specials. So I got into a habit where when I found someone I was interested in sexually – I’d cling for dear sexual life, whether it was good or bad. And therein lies the problem – the guy I was with wasn’t good in bed. It was a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. I kept making excuses – okay, maybe he just had too much to drink, maybe we lingered too long with foreplay – but it didn’t change anything. Worse, I was trying to convince myself that I liked this guy yet we were total opposites who expressed emotion by telling each other how much we loathed the other. I tried telling him exactly what to do, I tried showing him – it didn’t matter, he just wasn’t satisfying me.

I wasn’t in the best self-esteem cycle and didn’t really have anyone else on the horizon. Once I had gone a year without having sex – at the height of my disease paranoia – and I really didn’t want to give up guaranteed sex with someone devoid of scary germs. I tried to be Zen and not expect anything, telling myself that if someone better came along I’d jump on that train. But eight months went by – nothing. I finally just got sick of repeatedly having the same conversation and the same sex and broke it off cold turkey.

It was a scary thought since I seem to abhor being alone, but not only did the drama suddenly drain completely from my life – I started meeting new and exciting people! All those months I had been hanging onto him, I had been making myself unavailable to others. Sometimes you have to just take the leap and break free. I will be the first to attest – no sex is better than bad sex.

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