Virgin Myths: Virgins Can't Get Laid

Cherry graphic via

I've tried to figure out why some people are so surprised when they find out I'm a virgin. Is it my low-cut dress? My mad kissing skills? My friendly, flirtatious manner?

The fact that I defy other virgin myths is definitely part of it. When you see me, and you compare me to this image of virgins you have in your head, we don't match up. Even if your thought isn't Under different circumstances, I would sleep with her, you're probably at least thinking I know some guys who would sleep with her.

It's confusing that I'm a virgin because, at least to some people, I'm desirable.

Myth: Virgins haven't had sex yet because they just can't get laid/ no one finds them desirable/ no one wants to sleep with them.

I really really don't like this myth primarily because it removes any control a virgin has over his or her own sex life. It creates a norm--everyone wants to have sex. If you haven't had sex, clearly it's because no one is interested in you.

In one of my earliest posts, I shared a few stories in which I had to handle the subject of my virginity. One of those stories was the first time a man ever asked me if I wanted to make love. He was French, so the whole conversation was in French, but the meaning is the same.

I could share all the times when a man tried to sleep with me, but for once, I think brevity will be more effective.

I very very very very much want to make love with* the boyfriend.

The feeling is mutual.

We're two virgins who definitely want to have sex with each other.

We've just decided to wait until we're married.

My virginity, my choice. His virginity, his choice.

We're not passive people sitting around, hoping someone will turn us into sexual objects. We are both active agents in control of our own sex lives, two virgins choosing to save PIV sex for marriage.

MYTH POPPED!

*I originally had "make love to," but the boyfriend commented that I should change it to reflect something we'll enjoy together.

Consent: For the Rape Apologists

It's time for this country to create a conversation about a bizarrely controversial topic.

I'm talking about consent.

For whatever reason, we're still stuck in this backwards culture of victim-blaming. Then, when I have the “gall” to point out how fucked up victim-blaming is, rape apologists proceed to act offended.

But in this series on consent, I will do my very best to give my readers the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes very legitimate questions about consent are asked. Because we don't talk about it, consent can be confusing.

As is almost always the case in my blog, I will use examples from my own life of when I have given or received consent in sexual activities.

Before I proceed, let me anticipate a few possible reactions by rape apologists. I don't mean to ruffle any feathers, but these are reactions I've heard in similar conversations with my friends, some of whom read this blog. Reactions that are inappropriate and piss me off.

What about teh menz?!

Why I'm A Feminist (Part Two): My Sexual Assaults Were Not My Fault

I was 12 the first time.

I was in the kitchen with two boys from school, both in my grade, although neither in my class.

Don't ask me who they were, or why they were there, because it doesn't matter.

I was getting a drink when I heard them walk in. I turned around and said hello. One of them leaned over and poked my breast, my beautiful, budding, barely B-cup breast.

He poked it, said “Boobies!” and burst out laughing. The other boy started laughing too.

I was mortified.

Humiliated.

Ashamed.

I have no recollection of what happened next. I don't know if I yelled, or darted out the room, or cried.

But I remember exactly how it felt for my breast to be poked against my will, for my young body to be violated. I remember exactly how the two boys looked as they laughed at me.

I remember exactly how I felt.

I felt ashamed of my poor pubescent body. I felt ashamed of how easily two boys had humiliated me, turning my own body against me. I felt ashamed for not preventing it from happening.

This is the first time I've ever told anyone what happened.

This is why I'm a feminist.

  "Shake It Out," Glee

Regrets? I Have None.

Confession: Occasionally I doubt the decisions I've made. Occasionally I ask myself “what if?” Occasionally I look at my friends and wonder if they know something I don't.

Should I have attended such an expensive, private university? I'm leaning towards teaching high school rather than earning my Ph.D., so it's not as though I need the prestigious credentials.

What if I had gone to grad school straight after undergrad, instead of moving to France? I could be halfway towards my Ph.D. already, with my Master's in hand.

If everyone else is having sex, then why I do I continue to wait for marriage? No one would fault me or think I'm hypocritical. Waiting to be in love is still an accomplishment.

Occasionally these thoughts run through my head. But most of the time?

I'm totally confident in what I've done, who I am, and where I'm going.

I've watched my dreams come true, from joining a sorority to studying abroad in France, from working in France to interning at my sorority's headquarters.

I'm a fearless young woman in love for the first time, working for an amazing French family in a friendly suburb of a glamorous city, and gearing up to move to Canada with them.

I continue to follow my heart, as I've always done. My heart has led me outside of the South, which may always be home, but is no longer big enough to contain me.

Life doesn't always happen the way we plan it, and that can be a good thing. Yes, be ambitious, set goals, but when your heart's desire changes, don't be afraid to change your life along with it. 

Virgin Myths: Virgins are Boring

Cherry graphic via

I don't drink,
Or swear.
I don't rat my hair.
I get ill from one cigarette.

Myth: Virgins abstain from having sex, so they must abstain from all other “risky” behaviors as well.

Y'all have seen Grease, right? I love this movie, despite its flaws. (Virgin/whore dichotomy much?) I think one of my favorite songs from the movie is “Sandra Dee,” when Rizzo makes fun of Sandy for being a goody-two-shoes. For one, we get a glimpse at Rizzo's amazing legs. But two, even though the song mocks Sandy's virginity, I've always liked the explicit description of saving sex for marriage. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a single other song that does that. Even Billy Joel's “Only the Good Die Young,” (another personal favorite) just alludes to waiting to have sex.

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.