Every once in a while, the Virginity Project has one of those ‘moments’. To be fair, life has been chock full of moments lately: publishing my first book - something I never expected to do, after all, I was hardly the world’s best student - writing my first column for Glamour magazine (the upcoming August issue, in which the tables are turned and I have to write about my first time) and the tiniest most tantalizing possibility that my book may get turned into a play…. predictably I feel like I am riding on the crest of a wave. But I also love moments like these…..moments when people take the time to compose and send their stories to me, often just hours after the event itself. ‘I haven’t even written what I’m about to write here in my diary’ today’s storyteller told me. ‘That’s how fresh it is’.
I like these emails because they remind me that even though virginity loss can be one of the most mind crushingly boring/disappointing/embarrassing or even messy events of your life, it is still one that we never forget. It’s still a moment that we can get poetic about, and in some cases, just stick a good old pair of rose tinted specs on it.
Today’s storyteller wonders what all the fuss is about, particularly as ‘I didn’t get much of a chance to be completely satisfied by it’. Satisfaction is a tall order in my book. Practice makes perfect and all that. Don’t expect too much from your first time. But my sternest piece of advice to Australian ‘Abigail’ – a woman who has just lost her virginity to an Englishman - is this. Do not under any circumstances EVER confess to your male counterparts that ‘for us Australians, Europeans are sexier, classier and just better.’ This will not go down well with the male population of Australia.
‘My name is Abigail and I was born in 1988. I'm Australian. I lost my virginity yesterday morning (a quiet winter Sunday morning of a long weekend) at a sleepy beach town. Now that's it's over it definitely doesn't seem like that big a deal…although the guy I lost it to is the only one I would feel comfortable having sex with.
The guy is from the UK, a few years older than me and we met a few months ago bushwalking. Basically I was struggling from hiking huge mountains all weekend and he offered to carry my heavy backpack. I thought he would only be interested in me as a friend since I looked horrible and was sure I was very annoying. We got to know each other and got closer with a bit of tension building up as both of us were unsure if the other liked us.
We finally got together last weekend and I stayed at his place. We got to second base pretty fast and there were many times I just thought 'It'd be so easy to just do it right now!' but I've always wanted to wait and go away somewhere in the country for a weekend….its such a romantic idea for me. Plus, being quite a practical person and a bit more of a mature age to be losing it, I wanted to make sure I was on the pill first. I also mentioned to him that I had no experience which he seemed fine about…
I also wanted to establish where we were relationship-wise...together? On boyfriend/girlfriend terms? Or friends with benefits? (Which I expressed I didn't want). We talked about that and it was fine and I felt ready for it after settling in, going out for dinner and walking along the beach for a bit. However, when it came time for him to 'get it up' he wasn't quite there. I wasn't sure if it was his nerves about knowing it was my first time, the fact that I'd done the whole 'Where is this going?' thing or the fact that I mentioned I'd been to the doctor and he'd told me the pill may not have kicked in for me yet and we'd have to be extra careful with condom usage. Either way, I didn't feel great about it. When he finally did get going, it was too difficult for him to get in me, maybe because he was too big or the angle just wasn't right. Either way we both seemed pretty dissatisfied that night.
The next morning we started fooling around again and he finally kept it up long enough to come. It didn't do that much for me but I felt good knowing that I'd finally done it and he had been satisfied. We then tried twice more that day - in the afternoon and at night still without success. The next morning we woke up early with still no luck but a bit later there was success again. It was frustrating and he was frustrated with himself. My drive was on and off too - there was only one time when I felt like I was starting to come but he went soft before anything could happen. He mentioned that he liked that light at that particular time of morning...any darker was too dark and the lamp was too bright. We joked that we would always have to do it at that time…
I don't have any regrets about waiting for him. I just never imagined we would have this sort of problem. I thought it would be smooth sailing, especially with him being a bit older, more experienced and European! For us Australians, Europeans are sexier, classier and just better. It seems to mean more to me than if I'd done it with an Aussie. I also thought I'd have to know I was in love first but I figured that we get along, I feel comfortable with him, trust him, like him, know he cares about me so, no regrets…only about the way it happened…about how I didn't get much of a chance to be completely satisfied from it but I figure I have years to come and perhaps I was pushing him too much as I wanted to make up for lost time!’