After peaking during the 1970s and ’80s, much has been made of the fact that divorce rates are now on the decline, especially among millennials. Still, if you’re thinking about splitting with your spouse, or you’ve already been through a divorce, sunny statistics aren’t exactly useful. Throughout this weeklong series, Glamour.com explores what it means to uncouple in a modern world. Below, a straight woman, mid-thirties, on what it was like sleeping with a new man after being in a monogamous marriage for almost five years.

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I got married in my early thirties and it lasted less than five years, some of which I’d classify as happy. As time went on, I felt he became emotionally abusive in many ways, and through it all I would definitely say sex was an important part of the relationship. Especially to my husband. But over the years, the sex fell off because I realized it had become transactional. If I gave into what he wanted in bed, I could get something in return, if I wanted it: a vacation or a pair of shoes, for example. He was putty in my hands and that made me feel increasingly terrible so I pulled back in bed. Eventually, we divorced for many reasons.

I didn’t plan to start dating right away, I told myself I’d see what happens. I was kind of convinced after my marriage, nobody would want me. I decided to move to a vibrant neighborhood that had a lot of young singles. I was optimistic but I didn’t know a single person. Right away, I started doing things to meet other people—not necessarily men, but friends, too: eating dinner out alone and stopping to talk to others in my building. When I saw someone in the elevator, I’d strike up the conversation; ask them if they were going to any happy hours nearby. I joined a sports league.

Eventually, I started tagging along with people I casually met who I knew weren’t going to be my forever friends, but who seemed cool and were willing to introduce me to their friends, so my network naturally grew because I allowed it to.

I’ve always been a social person, but I made it a point to let go of any anger and resentment I felt toward my ex when I was out. I felt like I had a lot to give, and found that people were receptive to my totally open energy.

About three weeks after moving into my own place, some neighbors had a party and invited me. I started talking to a guy there—we were both drunk, but hit it off in a way that felt exciting. I felt at the time he was so different than my ex because he was easy and relaxed and I definitely was interested. Nothing happened, but we planned to meet up a few days later at a local fundraiser with some mutual friends. Afterwards, we were tipsy but not drunk and went back to my house where we had sex. I was a thirtysomething on birth control and felt totally OK with it.

The sex was good, [though] I’d say it was a little weird sleeping with someone new after being in a committed marriage, but mostly because I didn’t realize how much of what I did during sex was for my ex-husband and not for myself. It wasn’t as if I never enjoyed it when I was married, but as I was sleeping with this new guy, I noticed I did things that my ex-husband liked, as if I was trained by him. I quickly realized not everybody wants or enjoys the same things in bed.

The new guy slept over, but it was a weeknight so he left early to go to work the next morning. If he didn’t, I think I would have wanted him around for coffee or a bagel but not an all-day hang.

It ended up actually not being a one-night stand, and we hooked up for a few months, though he was seeing other people too, which I later found out. I didn’t care that much—I knew from the beginning I wasn’t going to be with him long-term and it was fun for the time being.

After that relationship ran its course, I had casual sex with three or four guys over the span of a few months. I met them all within the spaces I was used to—local bars, friends’ parties, stuff like that. I never used dating apps, and none of the guys I slept with were that different from one another—or, on paper, from my ex—but I still felt like I always made an effort to get conversations started, which is really hard.

You have to do the work if you want to connect with people who didn’t go out with the expectation of meeting you, and you have to be comfortable being alone at dinner; the movies, wherever. I didn’t feel like it was enough to just look cute and perch at the bar. I talked to fucking everyone. And while not everyone always wanted to engage, I found a lot did. I also listened to everything people were saying, I made conversation around what others wanted to talk about about and they opened up. I met other women that way who became friends, and guys too.

When you move to a place where you don’t know anybody, you kind of have to force yourself to be social, even if you don’t always want to. I’m remarried now, and met my husband at a party I didn’t even want to attend, but figured I’d meet some nice people there. He wasn’t the type of guy I usually ended up attracting and that was exciting.

We had–and continue to have—great chemistry, but also a relationship and sex life that’s rooted in reality. I’m glad I got myself out there after my divorce and had some new experiences, but I’m also glad I settled down with a guy who feels like someone I could have been friends with if dating didn’t work out.

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