Does Anyone Else Try to Guess if Someone’s Having Sex? Or Is That Just Me?

You know, it’s always the new acquaintance. A co-worker. A stranger walking toward me in a mask during the pandemic as the elevator doors slowly close.

It’s not that I’m zoning out; I’m just thinking about sex. The sex I’m currently not having. Okay, fine, maybe I am spacing out a bit.

Even though I’m on a bit of a break from it right now, I’d like to be prepared for when it eventually happens again. I want to make sure I’m ready—mentally and physically—when the time comes to jump back into it.

So, in that spirit, let’s talk about ways to improve your sex life without actually having sex.

Ways to invest in it, not obsess over it. (Don’t mind the co-worker wondering why you’re staring at them over lunch.)

Take a Break from Social Media

Being quarantined taught me something important: when I’m feeling horny, I usually end up scrolling. And when I scroll, that desire quickly turns into anxiety.

At first, I blamed Instagram. But now, I see the real issue is me. My constant lurking has me lusting after a version of beauty that’s often just a curated, filtered illusion.

Imagination is powerful, but comparison? Not so much. It disconnects me from the people around me, as I’m too busy envying some glossy, sexy image someone’s selling.

If you’re not into feeling envious or disconnected, try this: take a break from social media for a weekend and see what happens. Then maybe stretch it to a week or even a month. You might just rediscover the energy to connect with real people the way you did before TikTok and Instagram took over. The desire is there—it’s just buried under a mountain of overstimulation.

True intimacy, the kind that fuels real sex, can’t happen if we’re only presenting a filtered version of ourselves, curated through a screen.

Treat Your Body to Some Sensitive Self-Care

When was the last time you treated your body to something just for itself? A massage, a pedicure, or maybe just an experience that allowed you to fully relax and let someone or something else take care of you?

As we step into the third year of the pandemic, what if you gifted yourself a Reiki session to unblock your chakras? Or maybe a calming yoga flow class? Something that offers an energy exchange so powerful it resonates on a cellular level?

For me, as someone who’s hyper-aware of the energy around me, it’s crucial to decompress. I’m sensitive, and I burn out easily. I tend to absorb everything around me until I hit a wall and realize I need to recharge. Only in recent years have I started actively treating myself to these kinds of experiences—giving my body the space to relax and let go in ways I hadn’t before.

A few months ago, I began exploring float therapy. It’s this surreal experience where you lie in a tank filled with Epsom salts, floating in warm water for an hour or more. Dim lighting, the silence, the magnesium—it feels like being cradled in a womb, and the benefits are incredible. Most importantly, it gives my brain permission to finally shut down.

I’d encourage everyone to find a sensory gift for themselves during times of lower sexual activity. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Sometimes, it’s as simple as taking a leisurely walk around the neighborhood at sunset, letting the cool air ground you.

Remember, the beauty of sex is about bringing your whole self to the table, not just a part of you. You can’t fully experience intimacy if you’re not free to be yourself. Recharge first. Let yourself receive the care you deserve, so when intimacy does arise, you can give yourself fully in return.

Instead of Porn, Try Pelvic Floor Meditation To Give Your Private Parts Some Love

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on pornography—my mixed feelings about it, and how, at one point, it nearly ruined my sex life altogether.

For me, that relationship has included significant breaks from it. Taking time away from the screen to reclaim my sex drive and recalibrate how I experience intimacy. I’ve been working on getting back to a place where I’m only looking at real-life nakedness, not the filtered, one-dimensional kind.

If, like me, you’ve found yourself lost in porn during times of abstinence, I’ve got an alternative that’s worked wonders: pelvic floor meditation. This practice allows our most sensual areas to release and relax when we might otherwise obsess over them.

In the self-care conversation, it’s one thing to schedule a massage, but it’s another to honor our most intimate, often overlooked parts. These areas, the ones involved in penetrative sex, are under a lot of pressure when we’re not actively engaging sexually, and they need tenderness too.

Maybe you want to release some energy, but you don’t feel like masturbating. You want to feel sexy, but don’t want to take the edge off. Why not try something that’s not quite erotic, but still connects you with your body? Pelvic floor meditation might just lead you to that sweet spot, and you’ll touch it only with your mind.

By activating your sensuality without giving in to the intensity of porn, you can take ownership of your sex drive in a way that feels empowering. With consistency, you’ll likely become more sensitive and self-aware over time. It’s counterintuitive, but “less is more” has been a guiding principle in sexual health forever.

Practice the Timeless Art of Conversation

Even when the pandemic finally ends, many of us will still find ourselves shut-ins—thanks to the grip of technology and social media. We live quietly, but inside, we’re screaming. We long for connection, yet the fear of missing out keeps us glued to our phones, afraid to step outside and miss the next big thing.

For those of us not engaging sexually, this feeling is amplified. We might be without a lover, or the chance of meeting one feels slim unless we download the latest app.

But here’s the kicker: loneliness doesn’t discriminate. Whether you’re in a relationship or not, everyone’s seeking connection. It’s a fundamental human need, pandemic or no pandemic.

So, how do we prepare for sex? Start with your mouth. It’s the doorway to connection, yet we often leave it unopened. Through conversation, we access people on a mental and emotional level, opening doors we’ve been preparing for our whole lives—only to reject them in favor of swiping on a screen.

For the single guy hesitant about intimacy, talk to the woman at the coffee shop. For the woman healing from a breakup, don’t shy away from a respectful, safe conversation. You never know where it might lead.

The advice I give myself is simple: it’s easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than to think your way into a new behavior. And hey, don’t be afraid to make it flirty. Life’s too short not to let someone know you’re into them.

If you’ve made it this far, you’ve probably realized that this article isn’t really about sex—at least, not in the explicit sense. There’s certainly much to explore in terms of technique and connecting with a partner, but that’s not the focus here.

What this article is really about is starting over. Rebooting. It’s about using time apart from sex to forge a deeper connection with yourself, one that can sustain you long after the excitement of the act fades.

If sex is creative energy, shouldn’t we be mindful of how we use it? Let’s take the time to store it up and build more intimacy within ourselves first, so when we share it with others, it becomes a conduit for the kind of sex life we truly desire.

We’re here to spark new realities through sex, not stifle them. With intentional effort and soul, your sex life can evolve into something deeper and more fulfilling than you ever imagined—but only if you’re willing to prepare yourself to receive it.