Let me start by saying I LOVE all the comments that these posts have been getting, and thank you to everyone that has been sharing their stories so far.
Particularly, on my last post, Kim brought up an issue with the idea of virginity itself, and just why we make it so damn precious.
And honestly? I have to say I agree. I definitely fell into the “really? that’s it? category the first time I had sex, and I know a lot of women who felt the same. Although — I’ll wonder if it’s a gendered difference. I’d gander most women having heterosexual sex for the first time don’t orgasm, as opposed to men, whose orgasm will stand in as the official end of the act (if your experience was different, please share!).
Anyways, this next story illustrates for me both how much buildup we place on whether or not we had sex, and just what “counts” as losing your virginity.
Okay. Well, my virginity story is kind of interesting. When I was 16, my boyfriend and I “tried” to have sex—meaning, things just weren’t fitting where they were supposed to fit. I was completely embarrassed. And that was also the day I gave my first blowjob. And then what happened? The boyfriend dumped me a few days later. I was crushed, obviously, and I was totally confused as to whether I was still a virgin, and finally decided I wasn’t. I gave my next couple of boyfriends blowjobs but steered clear of vaginal penetration because I wasn’t dying for a repeat of that first experience. And I continued to think of myself as a virgin. Then, my freshman year of college, I finally had vaginal intercourse with my boyfriend and decided I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Looking back on it, I kind of feel sorry for me. I wish I’d been a little (and by “a little,” I mean a lot) more educated in that department. Let’s just say it was another couple of years before I had an orgasm.
I was about nine when I first learned about sex. My mother was vacuuming in the spare room, and I approached her and said, “What’s sex?” She turned off the vacuum cleaner and said, “It’s when the man puts his penis into the woman’s vagina.” And I mean, I was floored. “That’s gross,” I said. “Someday you won’t think it’s so gross,” she said, and turned the vacuum cleaner back on. It’s funny that I remember it so word for word, but I really do. And that kicked off a million conversations that I had with my mom over the next couple of weeks (or maybe months, I can’t really remember). It’s funny when I think about it now, because my mom was always answering my questions really specifically but not expanding on anything. So I learned that she and my stepfather did it, and that he had a vasectomy, stuff like that. I was totally curious about everything and I didn’t really understand that I couldn’t always be asking about sex in the car and out on errands and at the dinner table, and at one point my mother told me to stop bringing sex up in front of my stepfather because it was embarrassing him. So then I got totally embarrassed myself and the subject was pretty much dropped. And I know my mom did her best, but I’m going to go a different route with my daughter.
PS – As I mentioned in my first post — Planned Parenthood of New York City has some great guides on how to talk to your kids about sex, and is currently running a campaign to make sure all kids in NYC are taught accurate, age-appropriate sex education.