Tuesday, August 30, 2011

For you to ponder...

Are you the Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus? Or Mary Magdalene, the Whore?

Are you Taylor Swift or Katy Perry?

Are you Sandy from the beginning of Grease, or Miss "Tell me about it... stud" Sandy after her makeover?

Which Britney song describes you: "Sometimes" or "Slave 4 U"?

More on the Prude/Slut dichotomy to come....

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The (Almost) Naked Truth


I love being in just my bra and panties.

I love the freedom of movement. No form-fitting waistband of jeans or work slacks. No limbs tangled in a skirt. No tripping over unhemmed pants. No worries about hiding flaws or emphasizing assets.

I love how I look. My underwear works with my body instead of against it. It's designed to fit closely to the skin, to be unnoticeable underneath clothes. It works with my natural curves. I have a soft, curvy, but very proportional body. When I wear clothes, I have to hide my belly. The wrong outfit gives the illusion of being fat, or worse, pregnant. In just my bra and panties, my curves are all display. My man friend recently told me I have a beautiful, classic figure, and frankly, I have to agree.

For me, it's not about being sexy, although it can be about that too. It's about being comfortable. Most of my underwear is not sexy. It's cute, it's colorful, but overall, it's comfortable. I wear it for me, not for anyone else.

Not wearing clothes is about me too. I'm single—I'm not prancing around for some guy. I just prefer not wearing clothes.

As I write this, I'm curled up in bed (it's way past my bedtime), wearing a light fuchsia bra with black panties adorned with hot pink bows and polka dots. Totally full-coverage bra and panties (my bikini is more revealing). You can't see anything inappropriate. I'm super-comfortable—this is what I'm wearing to bed—but I think I look just the teeniest bit sexy too.

I miss having Underwear Hour with my roommate.

Monday, August 22, 2011

What's Love Got to Do with It? (got to do with it?)

I've been thinking about this topic for awhile, but it's just now that I've had time to sit down and write. What's love got to do with sex?

For me? Everything.

I've kissed a lot of guys. Maybe not as many as my friends who have lost count, but my stats aren't too shabby. The best kisses were always when I had feelings for the guy.

Let me tell you a story about this guy with whom I had an undefined thing in France. I know that's super-vague, but sometimes, labels are unnecessary. We both had complicated things waiting for us in the States, but we had fun together, we were attracted to each other, and we enjoyed being together. So we were—we just didn't worry about defining it.

Near the end of my latest séjour in France, I did a fair amount of traveling based out of Paris, and each time I was there, I met up with Ron.* The first night I was there (more than a month since I'd last seen him), we walked around a bit, went to dinner, and then he walked me to the metro line I had to take to get back to my hostel. As the metro pulled up, we hugged good-bye, and he kissed me ever so briefly. Close-mouthed, only for seconds, on a metro platform, but I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the night. And I had butterflies in my stomach for a week.

It was the simplest of kisses I've ever had, but it produced the strongest reaction. Why? When Ron kissed me so briefly, I knew that he liked me. That made all the difference in the world.

If I can be so happy about the slightest of kisses just when I like someone, imagine how amazing it will be to engage in sex with my husband, the man I will love more than anyone, the man with whom I will spend the rest of my life. When I first experience sex, I will be making love to my husband, not fucking some hot guy who's only interested in my body. (Please read my previous post if that comes off as judgmental, because it isn't my intention).

I won't be scared or nervous or hesitant because I will be secure in his love for me and my love for him. He will already know my flaws, both in physical appearance and in personality traits. He will find beauty in my imperfections, in my softly rounded belly or in my stretch marks from childhood health problems. He will encourage me to be a better person, to be humble and modest instead of prideful and vain. I will be comfortable and vulnerable with him. I won't put on a facade or worry about imperfections because he will love me anyway. My soul will intertwine with his, honest and naked, and thus, I will allow my body to intertwine with his as well.

More than anything else, this is why I'm saving myself for marriage. I have other reasons too, secondary ones, that I'll save for another post another day. For me, a man should know the inner workings of my heart before I allow him to know the most intimate details of my body. Only one man will ever know me that well, and he will be my husband.

*Not his real name. 

Virgin Myths: Virgins Are Judgemental

Cherries graphic via

Sometimes Real Life happens, and Blogworld is neglected. My apologies. Oddly enough, once I start my new job next week, I will have more time to update regularly. Maybe I won't go ten days in-between posts then. ;)

I actually have a pretty awesome, epic post planned, but I'm too tired to write it out at the moment. Thus, tonight we will pop another virgin myth!

Myth Number Two: Virgins Judge Nonvirgins for Their “Promiscuity”

Assuming I will judge you about anything is one of my pet peeves. I find it even more judgmental than actually judging someone for questionable behavior. You have no basis to form your opinion other than the status of my abstaining behavior. In fact, maybe if you think that I will judge you for a certain behavior, your worry is actually a projection of your own concerns about your life choices. I'm just throwing that out there... never even took a psych class.

Abstinence is a personal choice that I have made for myself and for no one else. Sex is a personal choice that you should make for yourself and for no one else. Just like you do not have the right to tell me what to do with my body, I do not have the right to tell you what to do with yours. Don't judge my virginity, and I will not judge your nonvirginity.

Most of my best friends are nonvirgins, although I have a few who are waiting for marriage as well. I do not do a purity scan on my friends before I allow them into the inner circle of best friends. No one has to sign an abstinence pledge, and after my friends' weddings, I've never requested to see the sheets the next day. I'm not some crazy judgmental bitch, so, yeah, it bothers me when nonvirgins think I'm going to start praying for their souls or something.

As long as sex is practiced safely, with two (or more) consenting adults, then I have no problem with it.


Friday, August 12, 2011

Confessing Your Virginity

Step One. Read my blog.

Step Two. Follow me on twitter.

Step Three. Link my posts on facebook, your blog etc.

Step Four. Retweet me.

Eventually your friends and/or significant other might get the hint... If they don't, then you'll need...

Step Five. If that doesn't work, and/or you're trying to tell the guy/girl with whom you've been making out for the last hour, then you might want to continue reading.

Until I graduated uni, telling people I was a virgin and waiting for marriage was a non-issue. I'm from a small, conservative town in the South. I went to a small, conservative school in the South. I was raised in a conservative Christian denomination and became involved with an even more conservative on-campus Christian group during undergrad. Everyone either assumed (rightfully) that I was a virgin and/or that sex was reserved for a serious relationship only. I never had to “come out” as a virgin.

Leaving school changed all of that. I've lived in a variety of cities, from the small but bourgeois to the grand and cosmopolitan, all across the globe. (Well, all across the States and France). My friends have ranged in age from 18 to mid-30s, and even my close friends fall within a range of 21 to 32. They span four continents (North America, Europe, Asia, and Australia), and I've lost count of how many countries and American states. The majority of them all have one thing in common, though.

Most of them are nonvirgins.

So I've now had a lot of practice in telling people that I'm waiting until marriage to have sex. Here's a sample of my experiences.

Strategy: Say no, but don't say why. Great for making out in public.

I was out with my friends one night at Duplex, a club along the Champs Elysées. This guy started dancing with me, and after a few songs, we started making out. It was extremely loud in the club, so there was very little talking involved. He told me his name, like, three times, but for the life of me I couldn't understand over the music. He also offered to buy me a drink, but I was already drunk enough, so I declined. Anyway. We moved from the dance floor to up against the wall to sitting at a table, with me in his lap. I allowed his hands fairly liberal freedom to roam, but I moved them each time he tried to slide them down my jeans. After about an hour, he asked me “Tu veux faire l'amour? (Do you want to make love?),” and I very simply replied, “Non, merci, (No, thank you).” We made out for another five minutes or so, at which point I excused myself to find my friends. I didn't look back.

Strategy: Explain that you only make out unless you're in a serious relationship. Great for making out after a date or any other private encounter.

I went out with this great guy last week. We had an awesome first date, with very engaging conversation, and just enough flirting to keep things interesting. I kissed him good-night, and we parted ways. Well. After some flirtatious texting, I invited him back to my apartment. In that text, I also added, “Also, not to be blunt & kill the flirting, but I'm not going to sleep with you. So... yeah. Just FYI.” He was really cool about it. He came over, we started making out, things heated up, and I finally had to stop. I was like, “I don't want to stop, but if we don't stop making out now, I won't be able to stop myself, and I'll regret it later. I might kiss on the first date, but anything beyond making out is reserved for serious relationships only.” Again, he was totally cool about it.

Strategy: When everyone's sharing their best sex stories, share your wildest and/or hottest make out story. OR tell your funniest story about someone who tried to sleep with you.

This happens to me a lot. Everyone's sharing sex stories, like getting blackout drunk and waking up with a stranger, or having sex in a random location (hospital bed, parents' bedroom, bathroom at a club—I've heard it all), or enjoying the most mind-blowing sex ever. When my turn comes around, I smile and look sideways, away from the group, giving off a slightly bashful, slightly guilty expression. I then proceed to tell them about one of my wildest nights in Paris.

“Well, this one time in Paris... I was out with my two best friends, and we got really drunk. After pregaming, and then splitting a couple of bottles of wine at a bar, we went to this club. Katy Perry came on the radio, I mentioned I'd never made out with a girl before, and Jane* was like, 'That's changing tonight!' So then Jane, Ali*, and I all took tequila shots... erm, they might have been body shots... Jane and I made out, then Ali and I made out, then they both made out. At some point we did another round of body shots, and we all made out again. Then Ali and I both made out with the same guy too. There's more, but God, it was just, really crazy. I usually don't talk about the rest of the night.”

The rest of the night was us just making a stupid decision and getting in a car with guys we didn't know. Everything worked out fine, but it was really stupid and dangerous. However, with the trailing off, people can assume what they want, but you're not technically lying. Also, if you have any girl-on-girl stories, everyone loves those. In my experience, it's almost always on par with the sex stories.

Strategy: Clam up. When pressed to say more, just say “I prefer to keep my private life private.”

I've never actually done this because I'm pretty open about everyone I've kissed. But this might work for you.

Strategy: Fall back on religion. Regardless of whether or not your virginity is inspired by religious reasons, if you need to give an explanation that most people understand, religion works.

I was making out with this guy at a party in France. He tried to lead me upstairs, and I darted off from him. (Note: I was extremely drunk). When we were making out again later in the evening, I said to him, “Je suis vierge. Je suis un ange. J'attends le mariage. C'est un cadeau pour mon mari. Je suis très religieuse.” (I'm a virgin. I'm an angel. I'm waiting for marriage. It's a gift for my husband. I'm very religious). I couldn't figure out how to explain all my reasons (for another post, another day) in French, so I fell back on religion. That, at least, he understood.

Strategy: Be honest. Be yourself. If your friends are really your friends, they won't care.

At the end of the day, this is what I do. In fact, it was a conversation with my new group of friends this summer that inspired this blog. We were all sharing our sex stats, and finally, it was my turn. My roommate already knew, but the rest of our friends didn't. When it got to my turn, I opened by saying, “I usually don't talk about this right away. I prefer to let people know more about who I am before I say anything because otherwise they get the wrong idea. The truth is... I'm one of the last virgins standing, by choice, not by circumstance. Etc. Etc.” Obviously, my friends were awesome about it, and even said that it was cool, that they respected my choice. I wouldn't be friends with them if they were so close-minded and thought otherwise. 

*Not their real names.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Virgin Myths: Virgins Dress Conservatively

Cherries graphic via

I've decided to tackle some of the stereotypes or myths about virgins. Each myth I've faced in my own life will be featured in its own post. I've thought about creating a scale from Never to Always, but the truth of it is, every man and woman is different. For every myth that isn't true for me or even for my friends, it could be true for someone else.

So, without any further ado, let's tackle our first stereotype!!!

Myth Number One: Virgins dress conservatively.

Let me tell you a little story about my days in undergrad. I was a sorority girl, and a fairly typical one at that. Very perky, involved with philanthropy, supportive of Panhellenic and Interfraternity Council, pearl-wearing, and very representative of Delta Nu*.

One of the fun things Delta Nu did was senior wills. Seniors passed down family heirlooms (like from great-grand-big to great-grand-little), varied Delta Nu things that younger girls might want (like old function tee-shirts or decorated picture frames), and super-cool, highly-coveted, very random objects with significance attached to them.

One of these objects was a stolen Hooters mug.

My freshman year, it was passed down from Kylie* to Casey* because “Casey had big boobs and loved them.” My sophomore year it was passed down to Becca* because “Becca didn't have much, but she absolutely loved what she had.”

My junior year, Becca stood at the front of chapter with her assorted senior wills. She held up the Hooter's mug and gave a brief history behind it. As she toyed with us, not revealing the recipient, about half the chapter turned to look at me. And... I just happened to be wearing one of my most low-cut dresses.

Finally Becca announced that yes, in fact, she was willing the Hooters mug to me. Not only was I the best-endowed member of my sorority, but I loved my boobs more than anyone else.

I ended up willing the mug down to my Little after she told me that my comfort with my body inspired her to wear tighter-fitting and more-revealing clothing. I was so proud.

In other words, no, not all virgins dress conservatively.


*Not their real names.

My First Time--no, not THAT First Time

I've been thinking about this blog for several weeks now, ever since my friends and I shared our sex stats, and I had to confess my virginity. After considering several topics for my latest post, I've decided to “start at the very beginning, a very good place to start...”

The first time I kissed a boy I was 19.

I know what you're thinking. “No wonder she's a virgin...”

I wanted my first kiss to be special. So many of my friends had random, inconsequential first kisses, often with guys who didn't care about them. I have a twin brother, and he was quite the ladies' man in high school. I heard plenty of stories about his conquests (and those of his friends). We were young and immature and if a naïve girl fell for him after her first kiss, well, c'est la vie. He might have broken quite a few hearts on the path to graduation, but at least he saved mine by sharing his wild tales. I refused to be another statistic, another notch on the bedpost, whatever. My first kiss was going to mean something, damn it, even if I had to wait a long time.

I'm so glad I waited.

I was home for Easter break my sophomore year of undergrad. Joe*, my best guy friend of five years, was spending the weekend with us, and I hadn't seen him since Christmas, I think. One night, after a nice family dinner out, he and I were hanging out, just the two of us. The rest of my family had all gone to bed. Joe and I watched some stupid reruns on late night TV. Then we looked up stupid things on wikipedia. We've always been very comfortable physically around each other, so we were just being silly and elbowing each other and borderline cuddling on and off for hours.

We started calming down around 2am or 3am. We were sitting on the couch together, and he laid down. I laid down next to him, and he just held me for a few minutes. Both of us were half-asleep at this point, and I teased him for falling asleep on me. I could see where this was heading, so I took my glasses off under some transparent guise. We were still talking quietly, and he started softly stroking my back. We were flirting, and sometimes I would touch his face. I started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he kissed me.

… … …

We finally stopped around 5am, rather hot and sweaty at that point. My shirt was unbuttoned, my bra was shoved down, and my skirt was bunched around my waist.

My first kiss was a two-hour make out session. Yeah, it was still just hooking up, but it was with my best friend. I don't regret it at all. I was with someone I loved, someone I trusted. And it was hot. ;)

So why would I rush into sex? I waited for my first kiss, and it was everything I'd anticipated and more.

*Not his real name


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Copyright © 2013 Finding My Virginity | Design By 2317studio | Powered By Blogger