No room in this closet for two

Coming out has been a nightmare. Many of my friends were surprised, found it hard to believe and worried that I'd abandon them for a new, alien lifestyle. Some of them couldn't believe that they hadn't noticed and others have asked if I am sure.

Despite a long historical pedigree, celibacy is not well-respected just now. Considered the preserve of Catholic priests and journalists making a quick buck, it contradicts the casual acceptance of sex as good in itself. Since many supporters are religious - a quick google search reveals some fascinating medieval justifications for sexlessness - it´s held in suspicion by a secular, materialist society that has spent the last forty years exploring the possibilities of sexual pleasure and intimacy. In any case, wasn't this just a excuse for my inability to pull at The Shed on a Saturday?

Like journalist Hephzibah Anderson, author of No More Sex in The City, my retreat was inspired by dire encounters. A date ended with the offer of being the daddy to an unborn child "because I don't know who the real father is", suggesting that internet dating wasn't the hilarious free-for-all I expected. And sex early in a relationship has often led to a false sense of intimacy, a short-cut that foundered on mutual incompatibility when we started talking.

The political strand to modern celibacy, I cannot claim – check out the Global Celibathon – but I haven't taken to celibacy as an end: I see it as a means to a deeper understanding of myself. This undermines its traditional purpose: in those moments at Inside Out or Confusion is Sex when topless boys and bikini-wearing women turn my mind into a cauldron of swirling lust, I repeat the mantra "it is only until Christmas" before retreating to a cold shower. Traditionally, celibacy was an ongoing project, a life lived outside the dictates of physical desire, and not a short-term self-help project.

Its associations with monastic life are today seen as oppresive but, as Dr Lesley Hall points out in Outspoken Women, it was a strategy for women to avoid the control of fathers and husbands. Hildegard of Bingen, a bright mind of the Catholic Church, cultivated her philosophical, artistic and musical talents because she was in a nunnery with no children to bear or husband to please. Yet beyond this, the sublimation of sexual love was part of a broader process to glorify God.

Celibacy has allowed me to deep-freeze my desire, to observe the difference between love and lust, to identify how they develop the character and – best of all – laugh at my ineptitude in romance. Phoebe Henderson seems to be following the same journey in a wildly different way: she is having more fun and her column is wittier. It has been a delightful escape from the treadmill of anxiety and competition, a good opportunity to mock my pretensions and dedicate some time to tidying the house. I haven't learnt that much: come January the first, expect to see me seeking a sordid encounter round the back of the skip outside The Shed.