The Celibacy Project: How I Finally Learned to Keep My Heart Open and My Legs Closed

By Allie Borden

After losing her virginity at the age of 17, Allie Borden began to have a lot of sex with a variety of partners, earning her nicknames ranging from "The Female Tucker Max" to "Allie Whoreden." Ten years later, she decided it was time to take a break because Plan B was getting expensive. So she declared herself celibate for three months and blogged about the experience. Written with candor, humor and humility, the posts ended up drawing thousands of readers who followed Allie's very raw and real journey of self-exploration and now they're available in book form.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483547220

Book preview

Copyright 2015 © Allie Borden

Proofread By: Amanda Webber

Cover Art Designed By: Ashley Croft

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means - except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews - without written permission from its author.

Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement on the respective owner’s trademark.

ISBN: 978-1-48-354722-0

This book is for Britney Spears.

Because boys come and go but my love for her is forever.

"I knew I was going to have to make use of this experience…

I am, after all, my material."

-Molly Jong-Fast

Table of Contents

Month 1

Celibacy Is The New Black

You Should Probably Buy Stock In Energizer

I’m Still A Reality TV Whore

The New Office Pool

Let’s Get Ready To Rumble

Allie: 1, Temptation: 0

Let’s Talk About Friday Night

Assoholics Anonymous

All Waxed Up And No Place To Go

The Ten And A Half Commandments

You’re Perfect, Now Change

At Least The Sushi Was Good

Sexless In The City

The Definition Of Celibate

A Day In The Life Of A Nun

Things That Make Me Go Hmmm

If The Phone Doesn’t Ring, It’s Me

I Think I’ve Learned My Lesson

All The World’s A Stage

The Weezer Rule Redux

An Ode To Myself

Hello My Name Is Allie

I’ll Try Anything Twice

Miscellaneousness

On The Subject Of Family

When It Rains, It Pours

I Have The Right To Remain Silent, Just Not The Ability

Month 2

Holy Shit, It’s Been A Month!

My Friend The Lesbian

So Many Beers, So Little Time

The Edge Of 27

My Life As A Sugar Baby

The VIP List

Those Fucking Hormones

Hate The Player AND The Game

Why I Deserve This Hangover

One Good Turn Deserves Another

Why I Love Sex

This Ain’t Oprah’s Book Club – Part I

Living, Breathing Birth Control

I’m A Glutton For Punishment And Good Wine

Crisis Of Faith: Averted

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do – Take Two

The Hexagon Of Trust

What Would Allie Do?

Straight Talk From The Stirrups

This Ain’t Oprah’s Book Club – Part II

The Grass, It Is Greener

To Blog Or Not To Blog

Hey Allie, How’s The Celibacy Going?

The Art Of The Un-Date

Now I Ain’t Saying She A Gold Digger…

Riesling To The Rescue

Month 3

The End Is Near

On Facebook And Forgiveness

Murphy’s Law Of Attraction

The Ex-Files

The Many Faces Of Allie

The Silver Lining To Singledom

Let’s Hear It For The Boys

Happily Never After

More Miscellaneousness

This Ain’t Oprah’s Book Club – Part III

A Guy In Every Port

Spoiler Alert

Once More, With Feeling

Happy Anniversary

Reach Out And Touch Someone — Anyone But Me

Do Not Disturb

Mind Fucker Strikes Again

The Eighth Plague

A Postmodern Pickup

The City That Never Stops

One Small Step

This Ain’t Oprah’s Book Club – Part IV

It’s Too Late To Apologize

Good Night And Good Luck

Preface

In 2008, I started a blog to document my three-month sabbatical from sex. Although I never promoted or marketed it, what began as a way to entertain some friends turned into a tiny little phenomenon once word traveled and thousands of readers found out about The Celibacy Project. It was humbling to learn that strangers wanted to follow my story and I am honored that you have purchased a copy of this book. 

Some of the original blog content has been edited. Identifying features have been removed and I’ve added details I did not feel comfortable including at the time. But the spirit and sentiment behind each post remain completely intact.

Month 1

MONDAY, MARCH 31, 2008

Celibacy Is The New Black

During the last ten years, I’ve had a wide variety of sexual experiences. If you know me well, then it goes without saying that these occurred with many different consenting adults. But if you don’t, allow me to elaborate: I might have been a bit slutty at times. It’s OK, I’m the first to admit it. The stories of my carnal exploits have entertained the masses for years. I wrote a column when I was a student at the University of Illinois called Champaign Sex on Beer Money. I was voted Horniest Girl in my sorority. In some circles, my oral abilities are considered legendary. These things kind of make me proud — not because it indicates that I’ve gotten around, but because it shows that I’m comfortable with my lifestyle choices. And up until this point, I have been. But now it’s time to take a step back from the stuff that’s made me who I am for as long as I can remember. It’s time to clear my head and cleanse my sexual palate. It’s time to figure out who Allie really is when she’s not bumping drunken uglies at 3 a.m. on a Saturday. It’s time for me to be celibate. For three whole months. Starting tomorrow. Holy shit. Now as for this blog and how I ended up deciding to write about such a personal decision, the reasons were threefold:

1. Writing is my passion, and it has been since long before I discovered my sexuality.

2. I thought you might find this premise entertaining. At the very least, you doubt I can pull it off. And if absolutely nothing else, the public declaration of my intent forces me to be accountable.

3. If I’m not getting laid, then what the hell else am I supposed to do with my free time every night?

So there you have it. Three months. That’s probably the longest I’ve gone without sex since I started having sex. In fact, I know it is. But what’s three months, really? Just 90 days of no physical contact with members of the opposite sex aside from hugging or the requisite hi-how-are-ya? cheek kiss that Jewish people like myself have perfected. I can still go out, but I’m not sure how easy this is going to be once alcohol enters the mix. Although, in my personal experience, easy and alcohol go hand in hand. Ba-dum-dum. Thank you, I’ll be here all quarter. What in the world did I just sign up for? I guess we’ll find out together. But more importantly, I’m also going to find out alone. Now here goes nothing — literally.

xo

POSTED BY ALLIE B. AT 8:38 AM

TUESDAY, APRIL 1, 2008

You Should Probably Buy Stock In Energizer

First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for the outpouring of support — and smart-ass commentary — I’ve received since I announced this earth-shattering decision. I’d also like to briefly address two of the questions that seemed to come up repeatedly:

1. Yes, I can still masturbate.

2. No, I do not have a waiting list for July 1st.

And now for the third, more complicated, question: Why am I doing this? Well, let’s see. I’m doing this because I don’t want to look back at my twenties and have nothing to show for them but a couple well-deserved nicknames and some empty Plan B wrappers. I’m doing this because it isn’t just about not having sex. It’s also about not having a boyfriend. I’m 27 and I’ve been in twelve relationships. By relationship I mean someone who has regularly seen me without makeup on and who is not, to the best of my knowledge, sleeping with anyone else. Number twelve ended two days ago. Now before I make it a Baker’s Dozen, I need to figure out what the hell I’m really looking for, and to do that with an open mind, I need an empty vagina. I’m doing this because, for far too long, I’ve allowed my physical relationships with men to determine a portion of my self-worth. I can admit that I have let my ego live and die not by whether a guy ever called me again, but by whether a guy ever booty called me again. And that’s just plain wrong. So there you have it. That’s why I’m doing this. By the way, day one: done and done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a muffin to buff.

xo

POSTED BY ALLIE B. AT 1:15 PM

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2, 2008

I’m Still A Reality TV Whore

Last night, I had a moment. Something was very, very different. I was sitting in bed watching TV, the kind of TV you can only watch when you’re single: The Bachelor. I wasn’t texting anybody. I wasn’t on Facebook. I was cut off from the world and I was somehow content. This is not normal for me. My cell phone lives in my hand. So that got me thinking…what the fuck? It’s not like this is the first time I haven’t had a boyfriend. But the way I’ve worked most breakups has been a lot like juggling: I keep two balls in my hands and another pair in the air. In other words, I’m never single for long. Now I feel like I’m not just in between boyfriends. I’m single with a lowercase s rather than a capital one. I’m not on the prowl. And it feels good — definitely weird, but good. On the other hand, those Bachelor chicks are single in all caps and bold letters. Actually, they’re just assholes.

xo

POSTED BY ALLIE B. AT 10:28 AM

THURSDAY, APRIL 3, 2008

The New Office Pool

You know, it’s funny; I’ve gotten a lot of feedback in the last couple days, and with very few exceptions, it falls into two categories: girls who think this is hilarious and guys who think it’s batshit insane. Some of you, and you know who you are, would bet the farm against me. That’s fine, although perhaps I should bet the farm against you and then go find Jesus in Antarctica for a while. That’ll show temptation. And it’ll show you dicks for doubting me. I’m just kidding. I know this is crazy and it doesn’t sound possible — not for a lot of people and certainly not for me. However, I also know that I really need to do this. It’s time to try something new. Four years ago I settled down, with settled being the operative word, and that’s three years of my life I can never get back. In the last eight months I have dated, in no particular order: a playboy, a comedian, a construction worker, a billionaire, a frat guy, the dude who invented Pictionary and a selfish bastard hell-bent on destroying my heart for sport…not that I’m bitter. I won’t even get into the number of people I’ve hooked up with. And yet here I am, single again. Single by choice, but single nonetheless. Clearly, something is wrong in this picture. But the pictures have all been so different. In fact, the only unifying factor that can be found among these situations is that sex was involved to varying degrees. Oh wait, there’s another common denominator: They didn’t work out. Thus, I find myself at the crossroads where this little experiment begins. For once, I’m going to make myself the control, taking out all the other variables. And by variables, I mean penises. Who knows, perhaps I’ll even learn how to blush again. One other thing, since this also came up a lot: Yes, I’m going to come clean if I can’t do it. If I fuck up by fucking around, you’ll be the first to know. Furthermore, I promise that if I can’t pull this off, I will concede defeat to the gods of getting ass and go away quietly. But if I’m right and I can go 90 days without kissing or humping then it won’t even matter if I’ve proven to you that I could because I will have convinced myself. And then I’ll laugh all the way to the bank with the money I bet on Team Allie. So go ahead, take the under. I’m gonna let it ride. I think I can do the unthinkable. Of course, I certainly wouldn’t take the over either. This might be crazy but I’m not that crazy.

xo

POSTED BY ALLIE B. AT 10:10 AM

FRIDAY, APRIL 4, 2008

Let’s Get Ready To Rumble

And now for the evening’s main event! In the corner to my right, the challenger, wearing a mini skirt and don’t-fuck-me boots, weighing in at one hundred and that’s-none-of-your-business pounds, one of Chicago’s very own, Allllllllllllllie B! In the far corner, wearing no pants, weighing heavily on the challenger’s mind, undefeated for over ten years, the champion of the world, the Master of Disaster, Temptation! Now throw in a little booze and we’ve got ourselves a battle royale. That’s right, kids; tonight is my first night out on the town as both single and celibate. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I am absolutely committed to the task at hand, but this is going to require an entirely different approach if I want to have an enjoyable evening. Ordinarily if I’m out and a guy offers to buy me a drink, at the very least I will talk to him long enough to let him know that I appreciate what he did. And if at some point in the conversation he turns out to be interesting maybe something will come of it. But now, can I still do that? I’m not being rhetorical here; I’m asking. If I know there’s absolutely, positively no way in hell that anything will happen between us, is it still fair to accept a drink from a stranger? Why do guys buy girls drinks? To save us money? That would be pretty sweet. But no. A guy buying an alcoholic beverage for a girl he doesn’t know is merely an investment on his part, and generally not a long-term one. Further complicating matters, is telling a guy that I’m determined not to have sex only going to appear as if I’m throwing down the gauntlet? The last thing I need is to feel indebted to some dude who thinks he’s rising to the Allie’s Chastity Challenge. Perhaps I should just buy myself drinks. Dammit, now I’m going to be horny and broke. Tonight, I battle my personal axis