The Virginity Project

Virgin territory...

Ever wondered what it would be like to sleep with a virgin? No, me neither. But last week's post got me thinking. If this occurrence were to, well, occur…what would I do? Em and Lo's fabulous website came to the rescue. I've been looking for an excuse to post this link for an age. Entitled 'How to deflower a nice young man in 14 steps', I think that gets to the point, don’t you?

Em and Lo go to great lengths to explain the in's (sorry) and the outs of what could be a potentially delicate procedure. What thoughtful people women are!

The owner of last week's story agrees. After I posted his brilliant story last week, I mailed back to ask him what the young woman in question thought when he broke the news that she had, um, just broken something else.

He replied…

'You wondered about the response of the woman in question when I told her about my 'situation'.... well, it's funny cos she is moving overseas permanently at the end of February. We both knew this when we hooked up so the whole thing has been on a sensible no-long-term plans basis. We chatted about it, it makes sense and we are both totally ok with this. Meanwhile, we have been meeting up, hanging out - and the other stuff - without the pressure of ‘is this going anywhere?’ type questions.

Anyway, I asked her how she feels about me being a virgin to start with and she said she almost felt a bit bad for 'corrupting’ me, but not really because I am so obviously happy with the 'corruption'. So after a little shock and embarrassment for her, I think she was pleased that I could be so open about things.

And the best bit? She decided that in this case, it is her responsibility to leave the country having equipped me with as much experience as possible by introducing me to all the different elements of sex and trying everything to see what feels good.

Its really cool to have someone be totally open and honest, showing me things and asking how it is, helping me find what I like or don’t, telling me what works best, encouraging me to explore everything...she always asks if there is anything I want to know, just ask and she will be honest, everything is completely relaxed and curious. To be honest, it's like a guys dream come true!'

No kidding.

What a woman. The universe works in mysterious ways. It’s almost like it decided to reward Dan for his patience. Here you are Son, you have been so good at waiting that we have decided to reward you with our highest honour: your very own virginity buster. What's more, you can keep her for a bit. She'll show you everything you need to know - without a shade of embarrassment and she won't stop until she is completely confident that you are ready to be unleashed upon the remainder of the female race. Holy shit, imagine if everyone had that sort of training, we would be living in sexual nirvana. I thank the lord for women like, well, I don't know her name, but you know who I mean, and of course, Em and Lo. Ladeez, keep the good work up!

The harder they come...

Okey doke. Today I have a little journey for you. A journey through the life of a regular guy. He is attractive, articulate and popular. But he has never had sex. Until recently that is. These are the days that The Virginity Project celebrates. These are the days when we kick our heels, dance a jig and eat a whole box of Lindt Lindor’s on someone else’s behalf.

I applaud the guts of this young man. It’s not easy to break out of a sexless life when all around you are getting their rocks off with whomever or whatever they like. This huge great big mushroom cloud of culture that we call society does not make it easy for people like Dan. If you’re not having sex, then hell, what are you doing?

So, today I am celebrating having the guts to go for it. As some wise person recently said to me, ‘Everything you want is just out of your comfort zone’. True words. Step outside the circle and take your reward. It’ll be worth it if you try…

I shall start from the beginning. Here is Dan’s first email:

‘Dear Kate,

I found your blog the other day and I thought maybe you would be interested in my situation. I just turned twenty-nine and somehow I am still a virgin. It makes me squirm just typing it. I know it means nothing but I can't help feeling embarrassed and ashamed. I just don't get how every seemingly normal person in the world has managed to get theirs out of the way and I am lagging so far behind.

I am a decent-enough looking guy; I have friends, a job and all those normal things. I'm not crazy or weird in a way that makes people run away. I was pretty popular in school and even had a girlfriend who actually wanted us to have sex but I felt unready and we never got that far. More and more, I look back on that early relationship as the chance I should never have passed up.

Anyway, the relevant bit is that as thirty looms large on the horizon and I feel like more of a sexless freak, I have been considering the possibility of paying for sex and getting the first hurdle out of the way. I dunno if I'd have the guts to do it but I just keep thinking about it. It’s just such a pointless burden, the virginity thing. I have no illusions that the first time will be great anyway, so why not just get it done in whatever crap way necessary?

I should add that I was not brought up with strict moral or religious attitudes. I had a decent caring upbringing and I wasn’t bullied so it baffles me why it should be me that is missing out on what should have been years of sexual experience by now! I am glad that people like you are looking into areas of sexuality which society doesn't like to discuss because it can be a traumatic issue to deal with which can affect our entire adult life.

Best wishes,

Dan’

I replied:

‘Dear Dan

Thanks so much for taking the time to write. The first thing that I am itching to tell you is that since I started this project, by far the largest amount of mail I receive is from people exactly like yourself.

Secondly, don't underplay your experience - you are absolutely right, there is SO much pressure on people these days to have sex, great sex, lots of sex, and as such, those that haven’t done it yet, for whatever reason, don't feel like they fit into society’s idea of what we should all be conforming to.

The point I am trying to make is that whilst our parents struggled their way through sex lives that were shrouded in mist, at least they didn't have to deal with the huge amount of expectation placed on young people these days to have active sex lives.

I can see how this must reeeeeally bug you and how it becomes a far bigger deal than it actually is because you haven’t had sex yet - and its not like this is the sort of thing you get to share with someone, possibly not even your closest friends. That only serves to increase our feelings of isolation.

I think your idea to overcome this dilemma with the help of a sex worker is a great idea and if I can help point you in the direction of someone who might be able to help, let me know. I have met a couple of interesting women who work in that field in my story seeking adventures.

I think it is a question of overcoming, so to speak, that first hurdle, and gaining your confidence that way. Funnily enough, I interviewed a man recently who had his first sexual experience with a prostitue as well. The bizarre thing is, that within a month of that experience, he met his first proper girlfriend, he believes, because it gave him an innate confidence that he didn't have before.

As I approach the age of 40, it hits me like a steam train that this is IT. It’s a cliché, but its true. We only get one life - and its way too short to feel miserable about problems that have solutions. Pro-activity is the way ahead. Seize the day I say. It won't be the first time we all dreamt about, but take it from me, I have interviewed so many people - no one has the perfect first time. I don't think your first time will be any less perfect than anyone else's.

Good luck, best wishes and keep me posted on your progress...Kate M’

Some months later:

‘Dear Kate,

My name is Dan and a few months ago I wrote you an email about my situation, which you then replied to. I really want to update this for reasons that will become obvious.

In October I turned twenty-nine and still a virgin. Many years of drastically falling confidence had taken their toll to the point where I could see thirty years old hitting me hard and I was even considering the possibility of getting my virginity out of the way by paying for sex. Your reply was very sympathetic and warming and I thank you for that!

The reason I am writing now, is that after much talk with close friends about letting go of worry and embracing whatever comes in life, whether you feel scared or ill-prepared or ecstatic, has helped me to turn a huge corner in my life. I feel that the conscious effort to change to a more positive and all-embracing outlook on life has led me to this most recent situation...

...A few nights ago at a rock nightclub with friends, a female friend who I had always thought was stunning but out of my league, drunkenly confessed that she really liked me. I was in total, and I mean TOTAL shock. Before I knew it, we were kissing and spent the rest of the night doing the same. She made it clear that she was willing to have sex that night and she came back to my place for coffee but I felt so in shock and wary of her being quite drunk that we left it at that - with the promise of a date. My confidence from that night was boosted immeasurably, along with my new attitude of wanting to embrace the scary changes which can make life wonderful.

We met a few days later and hit it off right where we left off. It was so exciting! I had had a few days to adjust to the idea that someone actually likes me, who I also find very attractive, and I was open to any possibility.

She had made it clear on the previous occasion that she was up for sex, so I had been thinking through in my mind about how it could be, and mentally preparing myself to go for it. Everything just felt so natural and unforced, so honest, that it just seemed right to think it.

So, we got a little tipsy, then quite drunk, although I must stress that alcohol only greased the wheels of an already rolling wagon, and then we had a great night of conversation and flirting and increasingly passionate kissing, before walking back to her place.

I was more drunk than I realised, but completely in control of my thoughts and reason, and kept thinking, ‘Is this it? Could this be it?’ When we got back, before I knew it we were on her bed, then becoming naked - a new first for me - then we were doing all those things I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to taste. And it all felt so natural. Everything was different than I had imagined it would be, but also everything was less strange than I had imagined.

For a first time, I would guess it was pretty good with very little weirdness. The only flaw was that I was a bit too inebriated to, (there's no other way to put it, sorry), actually cum. But I had had my first taste of actual, real sex, giving and receiving oral, and intercourse. I had actually had proper sex!

As we talked afterwards, I told her that that had been my first time, and she was shocked. She said she never would have guessed, and that it had been perfectly good sex for her, especially considering our states of being at the time. We slept on and off and I felt more than anything, a pleasant calm, a reassurance, like I can’t believe I thought it was anything other than a natural thing to do.

I am so lucky to have had this experience at this particular time in my life when I am opening myself to all sorts of possibilities and to soothe away my worries about sex and relationships in a subtle but powerful wave of natural truth. Sex doesn’t seem like such an all-dominating pressurised worry anymore.

Remembering the night now, a day later, it all seems like a hazy surreal dream. I almost forget that I am no longer a virgin. It even feels strange to write it. Everyday things seem surprisingly the same, mundane, same as always... but I feel different inside. I am so far from being experienced as yet but I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I find a new courage to look forward in life with hope and confidence.

Please forgive my getting a little carried away and poetic! But as I look forward to learning so much more, with my confidence threatening to soar for the first time in years, I feel the need to share this story with you.

I may even write again with any other happenings if I feel they may be interesting in some way, but in a much smaller email I promise!! I hope this follow up is of interest to you in some way... and thanks for your blog which I have found a comfort at times.

Best wishes,

Dan’

Cue spontaneous round of applause.

Hot monkey love....

It is hard to summarise love in 200 words but that is just what I did last week when a nice lady from Harper Collins emailed and asked if I could contribute to a Valentines Day blog to celebrate the launch of a new book. Said book is a fabulous collection of love stories edited by Jeffrey Eugenides. Having written a lot about love lately, I was only too happy to continue the theme. You can read it here.

But today’s themed vote for romance goes to Leah and George. Leah and George are two Gorillas’ from the Congo. Leah, the female, has already made history by becoming the first gorilla ever to be photographed using a tool. That’s not an innuendo. In 2005 she was photographed testing the depth of a lake with a stick before wading in. Humans would do well to take heed. This month, the pair made Simian history by becoming the first animals ever to be photographed mating in a face to face position.

Writing in the Gorilla Gazette, a team from the Wildlife Conservation society said:

‘Leah was lying on the ground and George was looking into Leah's eyes.’

Diane Doran-Sheehy, anthropology chair at Stony Brook University has observed more than 500 gorilla matings in the wild—and none were face-to-face.

‘It is an interesting observation and raises questions about why they sometimes engage in it,’ she said.

There may be practical considerations given the apes’ marshy habitat, for example.

‘Perhaps a female doesn’t want to be face down in the swamp,’ Doran-Sheehy said.

Or maybe they just looooooooooooove each other?

A rose by name....

Clearly it is the week to celebrate women of great substance, albeit with a little tear in our eye. I am sad to report the passing of the magnificent Rose Hacker. At the same time, I am metaphorically whooping with joy at the achievements of a woman who fought as hard as she bloody well could to make sure she left this world just a little bit better than the one she found.

Teresa, my trusty transcriber alerted me to the whirlwind that is Rose Hacker.

'She's the world's oldest journalist. She wrote books about sex for young people in the sixties. Why don't you see if she'll talk to you about virginity loss and sex?'

She did, and one hot afternoon last summer I found myself sitting in the presence of a genuine VIP. All one-hundred-and-one years of her. You can't underestimate the importance of people like Rose Hacker. She was born in 1906 and she helped to set up what we now know as 'Relate' but was then known as ‘The Marriage Guidance Council’. This earns her the slightly saucier title of 'World's oldest sex therapist'. But jest not. It is relatively easy for the likes of me to get people to talk about their sex lives but it wasn't for Rose back then. This is a woman who constantly stuck her head out on the parapet at a time when people simply did not talk about their sexual lives. This wasn’t the only world in which she moved.

A peace activist, a politician, an artist and the author of the book ‘Telling the Teenagers’, a guide published in 1966 to help parents talk to their children about sex, Rose Hacker never let a day go by without doing something extraordinary.

In 2007, a local newspaper reporter saw her give a speech at the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima in Tavistock Square. He was impressed. He offered her the chance to write a fortnightly column for the Camden New Journal. Another new career was born.

Last year, she said this to Guardian journalist Mildred Amadiegwu: ‘It would be so easy for me to sit in this chair, listen to music and do nothing,’ she says. ‘I can understand people my age who just give up.’ So why doesn't she? ‘Because of the state of the world. I think it's very important that people should listen to people like me - and we're being totally ignored.’ Does that make her angry? ‘Yes. But I'm furious about everything.’

Her last column for the Camden New Journal was published on January 31st 2008. She died four days later on February 4.

Making a difference right to the end.

I only had the pleasure of Rose Hacker’s company once but I shall replay it many times in my imagination.

Let them eat cake...

This little story always sticks in my mind. It concerns a friend of mine and I shall call her Jane. Jane was completely and utterly obsessed with her mother’s copy of ‘The Secret Garden’. In the unlikely event that you haven’t heard of this book, here it is. Just the world’s best selling book of female sexual fantasies.

My friend would sneak upstairs when her mother wasn’t looking, take the book down from the shelf and revel in a world of sexual licentiousness that she didn’t fully understand, but that she knew she had to know about.

One day she was reading the book upstairs whilst her mother and a friend sunned themselves in the garden.

‘Where is Jane?’ She heard the friend asking her mother.

‘Oh’, she answered, ‘she’s probably upstairs reading that book again.’

My point, asides from acute embarrassment on behalf of my friend? Teenagers will do anything to get their mitts on the information they need. If you don’t provide it, they will just go and find it anyway. Nancy Friday wasn’t the only woman providing it. Men, you may as well switch off at this point because you won’t know what I am talking about. Women: Judy Blume.

In a thirty-year career that involved writing fiction for young people, Judy Blume has sold over 75 million books. Can I just let that figure linger a little longer? (A bit like the scene from Steve Martin’s ‘The Jerk’ when he writes the cheque and realises that there are several more noughts on the figure than he first thought?)

Seventy-five m-i-l-l-i-o-n books.

People all over the world read ‘Forever’. A story about two young people embarking on their first sexual relationship. It was naughty and it was nice - but not nice enough. To tell a tale of love that involved sex between two young people and no drastic consequences was a little too much for Middle America. To this day, she is one of American’s most banned authors.

Love her or loathe her, she has performed a public service. She still receives hundreds of letters and emails every day. This woman and others like her have helped to make the world an easier place to be for young people. Which is a long way of telling you that I found this little gem in last week’s ‘Stella’. Let the lady herself tell you her own story. It’s worth a read.

Let Love Rule?

Donkey’s years ago, in my early twenties, I got my first proper job. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had hundreds of jobs by this point but this was the first where I got paid monthly i.e. I was going to stay put for longer than ten minutes.

I didn’t mind because it was my hearts desire. My first job in the music business. A whirlwind of gigs, guest lists and glamour, at least in my imagination. In reality, I got to answer the phone to Ian McCulloch. This was no great hardship at the time because I was a huge Echo and the Bunnymen fan. I also got to observe my boss at close quarters, a flame haired Viking of a man with a penchant for the re-arrangement of everyday audio equipment.

‘What do you mean the spare phone doesn’t work?’

‘Well, I phoned BT and they said it wasn’t broken enough to fix’.

He picks up the phone and dashes it to the floor.

‘It’s broken now’.

Okey dokey, I’ll just give them another call then.

In amongst this tomfoolery was the very real opportunity to see as many free gigs as I liked. Me and my friends made full use of this facility. Glastonbury with The Cure, backstage camping and access all areas? I was there. The Cramps at The Crypt in Brixton? Count me in. The Happy Mondays at Wembley Arena? Truly one of the magical musical hi-lights of my life. But it wasn’t just the big boys I was interested in. I went to see the little fish too.

In the winter of ‘89, I went to some dump off Oxford Street to see the first British show of a new artist that the agency had just signed. His name was Lenny Kravitz and he tore the place to shreds. A man, a guitar and a stage. That’s it. Even to my untrained eye, it was quite obvious that something was up. The rest of the crowd thought so too. Both Roachford and Terence Trent D’arby left the room shortly afterwards – literally and metaphorically.

Fast forward to the present day and it is no surprise that Mr Kravitz is a multi million selling babe magnet of a talented man who has……..decided to give up sex until he gets married. Yes, you heard me. Lenny Kravitz will remain celibate until he meets and marries the woman he loves.

Now, I had planned to ponder upon the idea of ‘secondary virginity’. The idea that one can ‘start over’ again, even if one has had quite a lot of sex, thereby attaining secondary, or ‘born-again’ as some types prefer to call it, virginity. But I don’t quite think this is Mr Kravitz’s style. Spiritual he may be, but ‘born again’, I think not.

But once I had googled the words ‘Lenny Kravitz + sex’ and flicked my way through ten pages of the above mentioned story, and counting, I had to ask myself – again, why is it that we cannot get our heads around the fact that some people actively choose not to have sex, for a whole bunch of different reasons? Is it just too much of an anomaly in today’s society to abstain, not for religious reasons, but simply because you want to save it for someone that you really like, or even, dare I say it, love?

I have an issue with ‘The Silver Ring Thing/True Love Waits/Creepy teenage-controlling-right-wing Christian groups. I don’t think it is right to ask what are essentially children to make very adult decisions about their lives and their bodies. It is natural to grow, to change and develop. People must be free to make individual choices as these changes occur. This is what living in a democratic society is all about.

Having said that, I do think it is a sensible question to ask yourself if you are having sex with someone: why am I doing this? I don’t think there is a right or wrong answer to this question but there is something to be gained by asking it.

Much as I don't like to link to her tedium, (although I do wish her a speedy recovery from her recent illness), Dawn Eden posted this on her blog the other day:

"There is no such thing as giving the body without giving the soul. Those who think they can be faithful in soul to one another, but unfaithful in body, forget that the two are inseparable. Sex in isolation from personality does not exist! An arm living and gesticulating apart from the living organism is an impossibility. The separation of soul and body is death. Those who separate sex and spirit are rehearsing for death'.
—Fulton J. Sheen, Three to Get Married

OK, it’s a tad dramatic but it’s an interesting point. Are we hurting ourselves by having sex with people that we are not commited to? Perhaps this is what Lenny is driving at. Sharing bodily fluids with another human being is pretty serious stuff. Is it not better to do it with someone we love?

Lets face it; we’re not likely to find out unless one of us marries him. Which brings me to my next point. As I pondered these questions in the shower the other morning whilst simultaneously meeting Lenny Kravitz, falling helplessly in love and moving lock, stock and cat to Miami, I arrived at the part where we were just about to get hitched….and panicked! Could I really marry a man that I had never ever had sex with? What if it was awful? A let down, a damp squib. Perhaps he doesn’t even have a penis? My mind flailed around trying to find answers to imaginary questions. This is serious stuff.

I came to my conclusion. No, I don’t think I can marry Lenny. Much as he impressed me with his axe skills all those years ago on a dingy London stage. Marriage is too big a commitment without first road testing the rest of the equipment. Quite apart from the fact that I might go bonkers in the process. I admire Lennie’s commitment to his cause. I would high five him if he were sitting on my bed right now but it would take a lot more than a wedding dress and a ring to win my heart. Sex is way too big a part of a relationship to take a chance on.

Unless we’ve got an ‘everything but’ situation on our hands? Ok, now this I might be able to work with, maybe for Lenny. But then what’s the point in waiting until you get married when you’ve done all the important stuff anyway. Penetration is merely a formality when it comes to sex. There are a hundred ways to enjoy each other without ever having penetrative sex. Or, 'what goes around comes around', as Lenny might say...