When COVID-19 first broke out, finding your 'pandemic partner' was a very real thing.
Faced with our own mortality – or at least the end of the singleton’s sex life – time felt short.
People paired up in panic, as if every orgasm could be their last.
Watch: How to have better sex. Post continues below.
And I flocked to men like a zombie in an apocalypse.
As far as we knew, the world was ending, and that was a great backdrop for some mind-blowing sex.
But after six months in Australia, I found myself back in the UK, with some of the toughest lockdown laws in the land.
Within weeks businesses were boarded up, 'stay at home' measures were put in place, and social distancing was more than a guideline.
It was now illegal to even socialise.
Confined to my three-bedroom flat share, month after month of restrictions dragged on, as my sex drive retreated into a government-mandated isolation.
Just like the pubs, gyms and nails salons, my vagina had shut up shop.
And for the first time since I was a prepubescent teen, I felt nothing in my nether regions.
No deep urge. No burning desire. No insatiable lust.
It’s like all the blood had just been redirected elsewhere.
For weeks I mourned my mojo’s fate, feeling impotent and detached. Part of me was missing, and I wasn’t myself.
Until one day I got a text message so hot that that my vaginal vibe flickered back to life.
Since then, it’s been a journey with a lot of self-guided discovery.
So, here in all its glory, is how I got my libido back.
Sexted with a f**k boy.
Think of them what you will, but if f**k boys are good for one thing, it bloody better be getting you off.
It had been five years since I’d met Declan, a ripped Irishman with a six-pack and an accent that made me wet.
He was my very first Tinder date, but after heading back to mine following pizza at the pub, we’d never felt the need to venture outside again.