Hi everybody!
I'm new to this forum. I've already introduced myself. But this is the place where I'll try to be as frank and open as I'm able about what's happening to me.

Some brief background: I'm a guy soon to turn 30. Last month I underwent surgery for the first time in my whole life. I got circumcised due to a severe case of phimosis.

I suffered from phimosis since forever. And it meant more than just a physical condition, but also my biggest complex. For real.

Being unable to retract my foreskin and expose my glans always made me feel dysfunctional and weird. I would avoid any "risk" of intimacy by all means. And when I talk about "risk of intimacy", I mean the slightiest chance of getting to know someone: even hanging out or dating were something I would run away from. And even if I did dated, I would find a way to screw it up.

Needless to say, the few relationships I had were total crap.

I lost my virginity in my very late twenties, to a prostitute. I thought she wouldn't turn me down for my "condition". Having a long and tight foreskin was not only a matter of functionality: I was so ashamed of it, because it seemed ugly to me, and therefore I took for granted that everyone else would think the same.

Perhaps I'm not being clear enough (sorry, it's not you - it's me, since English it's not my native language). Foreskin not only prevented me from being naked in front of my partner (that's the "psychological aspect" to it, so to say), but also it blocked my blood flow's way to the glans, which (if this wasn't enough) got practicaly no stimulation whatsoever, due to the thick layer of skin that covered it (that's the "mechanical" or "physiological aspect").

Having sex with a prostitute was quite a relief. It somewhat helped me to feel less anxious. But sex in itself wasn't so enjoyable. And I'm not necessarily talking about not getting intimate with a more-or-less steady and stable other. The problem was still the "mechanical aspect" I mentioned previously. (Though , in some subconcious level, my psychological issues might as well have been taking its part too).

I told my urologist about all of this. He prescribed me Viagra. But also warned me about my phimosis. He told me to undergo surgery as soon as possible. But I was in denial. I was (and always had been) so scare to face that kind of operation. I just couldn't. Human mind works in mysterious ways. The source of all my suffering was one scapel away from being removed, and instead I would keep it safe and sound inside my underwear, like if I would prefer a downhill love and sex life instead of facing my fears for good and getting rid off what brought me so many anxiety and frustration.

Viagra did its magic. So, for a couple of months, I was "catching up" that way. Escorts and Viagra. Viagra and escorts.

Until I ran out of Viagra. Then, I tried to give it a try without chemical help. It was awful. I couldn't get hard enough. That was the last time so far I went to a hooker. I felt so humiliated. I was not the first time I was unable to get hard with a woman. But in that occasion it was like "enough is enough".

So I quitted prostitutes. And decided to undergo surgery. I spare you all the mental strain that led me to that decision.

I got cut. Post-op went just fine. Except for having to abstain from masturbation (and any kind sexual intercouse, either penetrative or not). It was the longest and slowest month of my whole life. Somehow I managed to keep naughty thoughts away. But all I could thing (and what motivated me during the rehabilitation) was having my revenge. A rematch for the lost time.

I thought: "Ok, once I'm done with this, nothing will stop me from dating and having sex like everybody else, without turning to prostitutes as first, one and only resort".

During that month (and a few weeks previous to surgery), I met a couple of girls at the place I study. Nice, pretty girls. And hot.

I knew I had to wait until I could ask anyone of them out. I hadn't been dating for very long (and when I did, it wasn't that often). I was more than rusty. "But who cares?", I told to myself. "I might be rusty, but soon I'll be free from what really impeded me from getting to know someone".

Yet, I was aware that I should take things slowly. Baby steps. I would have been happy if I could only relief myself, for starters: erections become more and more frecuent, and I wasn't sure how long I could resist edging (and only edgind) whlist looking at porn. (At the end of my post-op, I would reward myself with that kind of "license").

Exactly one month after the surgery, my urologist discharged me and gave me green light to resume sexual activity.

And that's when I started to freak out.

It was Saturday night. I put some porn videos. I got hard right away. At its full. Honestly, I hadn't got that hard so fast in my whole life, except when I took Viagra. I started to jerk off. It felt so good. But something was wrong. I just wasn't in the mood.

I had one of the most intense orgasms ever. But I couldn't help that "Is this it?" kind of feeling.

I could have not only watch porn. I could have called any of those girls I met and asked them out. Not for sex, obviously, but for the sake of just hanging out. And eventually making out. Who knows? I was foreskin free, I had any more excuses to avoid the slightiest "risk" of intimacy.

But I didn't feel like it. And I still don't. And it kind of worries me. It worries the hell out of me, to be sincere.

For the first time in my life, I feel happy with my body. I like it. I love it. I'm proud of my penis, something that never happened to me before. All the opposite, actually. Still, it's like I didn't get used to it yet. When I was masturbated, I had the impression of being jerking off someone else. It was some sort of "estrangement" state. I wonder if that's normal. It's like having got a transplant. Maybe it's just a matter of time until I recognize my "new" penis as mine.

I'm not so anxious about it.

What I am indeed anxious about is my sex drive, or call it whatever you prefer. I suddenly lack the urge of "catching up" and living out my "wildest fantasies" (ok, I'm exaggerating, but it's totally intentional, hence I wrote it in quotations). Now seriously, I'm freaking out. Now that I have the body I always wanted, now that I'm free to do whatever I ever wanted to do (and wasn't able to do) in the past... I don't feel like it. What's wrong with me?

Could somebody please tell me something?
I'll appreciate any input.

I didn't open this thread in the men-focused area, since I'll be thankful with both male and female points of view.

By now, at least, just thank you for reading.
And sorry for any grammar or spelling mistake.