Dating in Tunisia – Christmas Eve on the carpet

or: How I became an involuntary sex therapist at Christmas

I went to Amine’s flat on Christmas Eve with a clear mind.
And I left with a clear mind.

In between… let’s call it communal masturbation with an audience.

Welcome to Tunisia.
Welcome to the year 2025.
Welcome to my love life.

Porn sex without a porn budget

Imagine the following:
A grown man, just shy of forty, silently undresses, sits down – and begins to masturbate.
Passively. Expectantly.
With a look that says, ‘Right. The stage is set. Go ahead.’

No kissing.
No touching.
No interest in the other person.

Just me, him, a carpet – and the quiet hope that I would somehow take matters into my own hands.
In the truest sense of the word.

I sat there, torn between two thoughts:

• How tragic is that, really?
• And why am I almost laughing out loud right now?

Dating in Tunisia – cultural misunderstandings and expectations

Swiss snowball meets Tunisian sun

That morning, I was still determined.
Tarot, clarity, poise, dignity.
And then: bang – I melt away like a Swiss snowball in the Tunisian winter sun.

Not out of love.
Not out of hope.
But out of a mixture of curiosity, pragmatism and that absurd moment when you think to yourself:

„What the hell. How did I end up here?“

I actually laughed.
More than once.
At him – because he is so wonderfully clumsy in his understanding of seduction.
And at myself – because I suddenly find myself doing exactly what I had sworn I would not do.

Sex like masturbating – only more tiring

Was it bad?
No.

Was it good?
No, not really.

It was… functional.
Like masturbating.
Only with a person who also wanted to be satisfied.

A vibrator with expectations, so to speak.

No heart.
No soul.
No connection.

But no suffering either.
No self-doubt.
No illusions.

And that’s new.

Sex, Self-Determination, and Honesty

I’m not a victim – I’m just being honest

I know what some of you are thinking:
„Why do you let him do that to you?“

A more honest question would be:

Why should I let others dictate what sex should be?

I am a sexual being.
The year is 2025.
So why not have sex just for fun, as long as everyone involved knows where they stand?

I know:

• Amine is incapable of intimacy.
• He does not know how to kiss a woman.
• He considers passivity to be erotic.

But I also know:

• I don’t lose myself in it.
• I don’t hope for anything.
• I don’t confuse this with love.

My man is out there. Amine isn’t.

And that is perhaps the most important point.

Somewhere out there, my soulmate is waiting for me.
The man with whom energy flows.
With whom closeness is not awkward, but natural.
With whom kissing is not a test of courage.

Until then?
I’ll just lean a little on someone in the Tunisian winter who can only do as much as he can.

No more.
But also no less.

Conclusion: Merry Christmas. Truly.

Christmas Eve on the carpet wasn’t romantic.
But it was honest.
And absurdly funny.

I laughed.
At him.
At myself.
At the situation.

And honestly:
Right now, that feels healthier than any fake love story.

🎄✨
Merry Christmas.
Also – and especially – from me.