In
middle school, I was pretty much an outcast. In my class of a whopping 48
students, it was pretty obvious who the popular people were. And everyone else was
either friends with each other, or not friends with anyone. I fell into the
last category. Besides my best friend Gen, I pretty much braved middle school
alone. When I got to high school, I somehow came across my group of six
girlfriends who are still some of my best friends to this day. We were an odd
group to say the least, I being the black sheep of all of us. They were all
skinny and blonde, only bought clothes from Hollister or Abercrombie, and had
ways of getting booze and cigarettes with the click of a text message at age
14. I met them all while attending a mutual friend’s party, where I showed up
alone and hoped for the best. For one reason or another, they all took me under
their wing, so to speak, and I was in the group.
For
the next four years, the biggest thing that divided us as girls was sex. I,
being awkward, chubby and more interested in reading novels than going out and
getting drunk on a Saturday night, viewed sex as something a million miles away
from where I was. Yet, by the time we were in tenth grade, all six girls had
already not only lost their virginity, but also had sex with multiple guys. I
somehow made it out of high school without too much scrutiny from everyone;
after all, I wasn’t completely oblivious to any physical act. I had “fooled
around” with people, but for some reason just didn’t see the point in having
sex at an age where I barely knew who I was.
When
I came to college, I found a great group of friends who I immediately felt
myself around. I no longer felt like the “black sheep” in my beautiful group of
girl friends; I had a huge group of people around me who liked the same things
I did, who listened to the same music that I did, and who supported me, even
through my (still) awkward stage at age 18. With college came new boys and new
experiences, but as the first couple years passed by faster than I thought they
could, I still hadn’t had sex. It wasn’t like I announced it or made it known;
if people found out or asked about it, I was upfront and honest. I felt that I
had nothing to hide. I was often met with a shocked face or a tentative
question. “Are you like… waiting until marriage or something?” I always smiled
and told them no, that I was just waiting. Simple as that. I didn’t understand
why people were so concerned and fascinated by the fact that I was a college
student who hadn’t had sex yet, just
because I didn’t feel that I was ready yet.
My
virginity ended up being a deal breaker for two different guys that I dated
while in college. Once they found out that I hadn’t had sex, they shied away
and seemingly wanted nothing to do with me. At first my confidence was
shattered. Was I some unwanted, unworthy, unsexy being just because I hadn’t
felt ready to have sex yet? Who’s to say I didn’t want to, it just hadn’t been
the right time? I consoled myself with the fact that if a guy wasn’t interested
in me for something I hadn’t even done
yet, they weren’t worth my time anyway.
Flash
forward to my senior year in college. 21 years old and still a virgin. I met my
current boyfriend in October of this year, and was up front with him from the
beginning about the fact that I (shocker) had not had sex yet. I had never viewed sex as the “be all end all” of my innocence, despite
the fact that my Catholic school upbringing had made me believe this until I
came to college. I didn’t think that I needed to be married to have sex. I
didn’t think that I would burn in hell or get pregnant or that I would be a
completely different person. The fact of the matter was that I had just never felt ready. If sex
wasn’t the single most important thing in sexually active people’s lives, why
was my lack of it supposed to be the biggest thing in mine? I became annoyed by
the fact that my virginity was seen as a commodity; that I was somehow strange
or awkward or not mature enough to handle something that everyone (yes,
everyone) that I knew personally had already done. Being the only virgin that I
knew of made me feel alienated in a way that I hated. Was I any less of a
person, any less of a woman, because I hadn’t had sex yet?
I
always told myself that I would not have sex until I was ready. I realize that
“ready” for me and “ready” for other people can be two completely different
things, which is why I never based my readiness for sex off of when my friends
started having it. However, I have to wonder: were they actually “ready”? Is
anyone ever actually ready for something that society puts such a huge weight
on?
I knew that for me
personally, I wanted my first time to be with someone who I loved and trusted;
someone I knew would not leave in the morning and never speak to me again (I’m
not saying that this is the case with everyone; I just had heard too many
stories about how this had happened to people I knew and didn’t want it to
happen to me).
I didn’t hold onto my virginity with
white-knuckled fists because it was extremely important to me; I held onto my
virginity because I hadn’t met anyone who I felt comfortable enough with to
share that large part of my life. But
why is virginity viewed as such a large part of our life? Maybe it doesn’t have to be.
After
my boyfriend and I had been dating for a couple months, I finally felt prepared
to have sex. Once I did, I did not feel different. I did not feel happier,
freer, relieved, or sad. Instead, I felt content that I had waited to be with
someone who made me feel at ease with myself and the situation, and that I
hadn’t had any hesitations with my decision. My journey into having a
sexual part of my life may be seen by most as unconventional. I have been
called “cautious” and “a late bloomer.” And the fact of the matter is that I am
completely content with that. I don’t understand the large pressure society has
put on girls and boys alike to lose their virginities, while at the same time
putting such a focus on “purity” and having something “taken away” from us as
women when we finally do have sex. I am extremely glad that I waited to have
sex with someone that I cared about, but I don’t think that the fact that I
hadn’t had sex needed to be an issue to anyone but me. So what if I was the
only virgin I knew for two years? Not being sexually active didn’t define me as
a person, just like I won’t let the change define me now.
The
article that inspired me to write about my own sexual experiences is called
“Why are adult virgins considered to be backwards in modern society?” I
completely related to the bewilderment of people who found out about my virgin
status, and couldn’t help but feeling like something is “wrong” with me. The
link is here: http://gmwilliams.hubpages.com/hub/Why-are-Adult-Virgins-Considered-to-be-Backwards-in-Modern-Society
So
why is virginity such a big deal in our society? Has it always been this way?
Why are we afraid to talk about it, or be okay with the fact that we have not
had as much sex as our peers? Why is such a private act something that has
become so public when we don’t necessarily want it to be?
I completely can relate to this piece! All of the friends that I still have from high school have had sex, and me, their only virgin friend just sits in the background and listens to them talk about it. Virginity is made to be thing huge thing in the media, and sex is portrayed to be scary and thins huge event that could potentially have huge consequences. All of the different messages that are out there are confusing today's youth. Your piece is a brave confession that accurately illustrates activism in a personal light! Great blog.
ReplyDeleteNo wonder Inga loved your blog so much: it's so moving and inspirational. And you're right, virginity is usually laughed at, but in the end, it's NO ONE'S BUSINESS. Who you are and what you do with your body is no concern to anyone else. I remember that I lost my virginity at a really young age (16) and at the time I thought it was no big deal. I remember growing up around people who talked about it all the time and that if you were a virgin you were naive and childish. Now that I'm older it's almost a double standard: if you have slept with a lot of people you are a slut (great piece to go with Jessica's blog). Knowing what I know now I realize that I should have waited and I actually respect those that are virgins. They are saving themselves for someone special, and I only wish that I could have someday done the same. I LOVE that you included the original piece that inspired you because it is inspirational. I'm glad that you found the courage to get this conversation going and write about your own experiences. Being sexually active or lack thereof DOESN'T define you as a person....Bravo, Molly.
ReplyDeleteI think incorporating cultural context beyond "the media" could have made this more effective. This in an interesting contrast to our classmate's blog on promiscuity being judged differently for men and women. I do think that it was gutsy to post information about your own experiences.
ReplyDeleteI feel that people assume sex is a big deal so they make it a big deal themselves. Lets be honest, everyone views sex differently, so let them. Who cares? Whether you are a virgin or not it is not something that is going to affect the person you are and it is certainly not a concern to anyone but yourself and maybe your partner at the time. Just be you.
ReplyDeleteWonderful blog, Molly! I like how you brought this perilous idea into the light, as it seems to get skipped around or pushed into vagueity a lot. Frankly, even as someone who identifies herself as very sexually open, I've never had this discussion with anyone else, about how they /really/ felt after having sex and how their readiness played into it. It's actually very comforting to know that I'm not the only one who didn't notice anything special afterward.
ReplyDeleteGood blog molly! It was personal and honest and refreshing. I read the "Purity Myth" by Naomi Woolf and it helped me understand a lot about virginity and its double standards. Why is men's virginity something that they must quickly lose and for women virginity is something she must keep intact? There is still a virgin-whore dichotomy in our society where women are expected to be virginal and pure but expreienced and sexy. How can they be both? They can't and so they are stuck. If she doesn't sleep with anyone, she's a prude. If she she sleeps with too many people, she's a whore. Your personal story proves that the "virginity" emphasis in our society does not need to affect your sexuality or preferences. I admire your view on virginity and that you held fast to your readiness. I like how you explore virginity and its purpose and would like to see a follow up on virginity as a construct.
ReplyDeleteGreat blog, and I must say your brave for sharing your story! I can totally agree with your statement, and wanting to wait till you were ready. I wish others would realize that its not a big deal to wait to have sex. I wish this topic was taught in school, as a part of sex ed, and expressing to middle school aged children that its totally fine to wait, its acceptable to be the last one to have sex out of your friends circle.
ReplyDeleteSo why is virginity such a big deal in our society? Anything that makes you different from people is a big deal nowadays, we as a society push towards being cookie cutter people. Has it always been this way? No it used to be quite the opposite instead of a pressure to have sex there was a pressure towards getting married and having children. Why are we afraid to talk about it, or be okay with the fact that we have not had as much sex as our peers? It is a taboo, its just one of those things are society is obsessed with pretending we are not obsessed with sex.
ReplyDeleteYou did a great job of picking a subject that everyone can relate to and revealing your personal experience as a way of reaching out and possibly changing someone's mind about following the crowd rather than being themselves.
ReplyDeleteI found the part of your story where you said "Why should I be having sex when I don't even know who I am yet" to be very interesting and true. It is jaw dropping when you look at statistics of the ages of some kids that are losing their virginity these days. Sex at that is meaningless, confusing, shallow, and unsafe. Instead of school trying to protect students by having safe sex I believe they should try to explain the depth to it.
ReplyDeleteThis blog is so personal and inspiring. I wish I had had similar thoughts when I was in high school. Instead I lost my virginity to the first willing participant at age 14. If schools had better or different resources to help kids who are struggling to figure out themselves and their sexuality I think more kids would hold out a bit longer on losing their virginity. I know I would have.
ReplyDeleteThis was great! Very personal and open! I like your views on virginity and being able to share your before and after thoughts.
ReplyDeleteYou know what good for you! I let mine go waaay before I was ready, and that was still at age 17. I wish that I would have waited for the right time, instead of just anytime. I have so much respect for you for keeping true to yourself and not just giving in!
ReplyDelete