Why I Stopped Hooking Up
graphic by Yinne Smith
Disclaimer: This article is in no way meant to be a cautionary tale about why you shouldn’t participate in hookup culture. It is not meant to sway you in a direction and it is also not meant to influence you. I simply want to share my experiences with hooking up and what it has taught me about myself. While hookup culture is not empowering me or fulfilling me, that doesn’t mean that this is a universal experience. If casual sex makes you feel good/happy/satisfied/empowered, then you should absolutely be having it. It just isn't for me. Therefore, I would never presume to speak for anyone other than myself. Please bear that in mind while reading.
Before continuing the story, let’s first define what hooking up even means. There are multiple definitions and opinions roaming the Internet. This site defines it as:
In the most basic sense, hooking up with someone means that you’re sexually intimate with them, yet this intimacy can range from kissing all the way to intercourse. To that end, hooking up is actually an overarching expression that can be used to describe the wide range of sexually intimate acts that you engage in with someone else, but it doesn’t imply monogamy or that you’re in a relationship or are even dating this person. In addition, hooking up with someone can be a one-time occurrence or a type of ongoing sexual relationship that you have with them and/or with multiple people.
This article uses the term “hooking up” to describe sex and being sexually intimate with someone. Having sex and being sexually intimate, however, can mean something entirely different for me than it does for you. Please bear that in mind.
Sex was always something that I reserved for committed monogamous relationships. There are few acts as intimate as sex. This is why I wanted to be certain that after having it for the first time, my partner wouldn’t just drop me, because sex was the only reason, they were interested in me. I wanted to share this experience with someone that I trusted, someone who valued and appreciated me for me. I wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t be hurt after - that I wouldn’t regret it. Also, I assumed that having sex with a stranger or someone that I didn’t know well - physically wouldn’t work. I expected my body to not respond to the other person if I didn’t have that basis of trust and feelings.
One-night stands were puzzling to me, because why would they ever be “worth it“? Not that I cared what other women did with their bodies, since that is absolutely none of my business. As long as everything is happening consensually and safely for all parties involved, I could not care less. Still, it was never something I ever saw myself doing.
Because having good sex takes some time as it is. It takes time to get used to your partner and to figure out how you work well together on this level. So having sex with someone you barely know was not something I was particularly eager to try. I used to tell myself that I’d rather have no sex than bad sex.
So, what changed?
I met this guy and simply put: I had sex with him on the first date. Something I thought I would never do in my lifetime. I was shocked myself, but let me tell you, it felt good. More than that, it felt right. I was more than surprised by this discovery. It felt like I had "unlocked" a whole new feature in this game called life. Who knew that it was possible to sleep with someone I was not in a relationship with and not feel bad after like I'd always imagined? Bear in mind, at this point I was already madly in love with the guy and I thought that seeing him would result in a relationship.
Did we end up in a relationship? We did not.
While it didn’t work out with him, which of course left me feeling sorrow for a while, I wondered if it was possible to have sex with other people too now...even with people who I wasn’t in love with. The answer presented itself soon after when I started hooking up with someone new. It didn't last long, but a great friendship arose from the shared experience. We stopped sleeping with each other very soon due to a mutual realization that we would be better off as friends and I couldn’t be more grateful now to have this person in my life.
Then, I met someone else. We had great and I mean absolutely great chemistry from the beginning and so we slept with each other without even having the intent to date. So, of course, I thought to myself that casual sex works for me.
It did work, but for a very specific reason: While these people were not my partners, we shared more than "just" sex. We had a genuine connection, even if it was nothing more than a friendship or an initial spark of meeting someone new. It didn't feel as though it was just about hooking up, albeit these experiences were covered by the term. So, what happened when the connection wasn't there anymore?
Soon after I met someone else and this someone changed my perception. While this person made their intentions of wanting a relationship very clear from the beginning, which was something I was absolutely content with, we had no connection whatsoever. No chemistry, no spark, no butterflies - no nothing. Nevertheless, we started sleeping with each other, because that's just what I did at that time. That's what happened when I met someone new. It's not like I didn't want it to happen, I enjoyed the sex and it was always consensual, but when the connection was suddenly gone, I felt... something. I didn't know what it was yet.
The two of us clearly didn't work out which is perfectly fine. Not everybody can be your match. It did not surprise me, nor was I upset about not having this person in my life anymore. I was upset about something. I was upset about the sex. I was so upset that I had sex with this person and most importantly that I didn't listen to this voice inside my head telling me not to do it.
But why? I'd never felt this way before with the others?
So, what changed? - The connection was missing.
I brushed it off, however, and you probably guessed it: started hooking up with someone new. A friends with benefits situation if you will, only that we were anything other than friends. Just two strangers having really amazing sex, but still two strangers. We never really talked or got to know each other, but I told myself that I didn't mind, because why should I? It's just sex and the sex is good so why do I care? I kept telling myself that I didn't mind the feeling of emptiness afterward. That I didn't mind asking myself over and over if it was really worth it and why I even did it.
Like I said before, I always agreed to hooking up and I also enjoyed it. It wasn't even that I regretted it afterward, I just felt nothing - empty.
I was left alone with my thoughts this little voice inside of my head asking over and over why I did it because I knew that it didn't serve me, that it didn’t make me happy. The worst part is I knew. I knew long before I stopped doing it.
So, what changed?
I finally accepted that I wasn’t being honest with myself about what I wanted. Even though I told myself I was fine with it being “just sex,” whether that meant a one-night stand or casually hooking up on a regular basis, I was lying.
I wasn’t necessarily looking for a committed relationship, but I was looking for more. I wanted a genuine connection, attention, affection, just something that gave me the sense of not just being with someone because of sex.
The bottom line is: Hookup culture is not something for me and I had to be honest with myself and admit to it. While that did take a long while, I don’t regret the experiences I’ve made as they taught me a lot about myself. I learned that from now on sex is something that I want to reserve for relationships and I am more than happy with this decision.
What helped me tremendously to help me reach this consensus is asking myself this question: When I hook up with someone, would I be okay the next morning if I never heard from them again? If they never texted me or called and I never saw them again, would I say be comfortable with that?
For me, the answer is no and that is why I stopped hooking up.