Being a topical blog, I probably should be flagging up the fact that Glee has just dealt with ‘the first time’ scenario but number one, I haven’t seen it yet and number two, my US counterpart Therese at ‘How to Lose Your Virginity’ will do a much better job of ‘appraising’ it than I…which she does, right here. I’d like to like Glee but frankly, I still haven’t got over the demise of Buffy.
I should probably also flag up the fact that on last night’s ‘Made in Chelsea’, Ollie Locke and his agent came up with the ground breaking idea to interview as many people as possible about the loss of virginity and turn it into a book. I am truly ahead of the zeitgeist. I guess I’ll let them find out in their own time that that ship has sailed!
Meantime, today’s story took me straight back to my own. A radio interviewer once commented that my story – which he read in my book - seemed a bit cold and business like. That it was a job to be done, a box to be ticked. Because it’s true, at 15 years old I was hideously aware (that’s a bit sad isn’t it), of the fact that most of my close friends had lost their virginity….and I hadn’t. Not that anyone else cared about this detail, but I did. So the interviewer wasn’t completely wrong. I was on a mission that needed to be accomplished and the cute French boy I met on a Spanish holiday was the man for the job.
On the last night of his trip, we snuck up into the hills and did the deed. It was just about as far away from how I had imagined the experience to be than you could possibly comprehend. It was bound to be great because he was so good looking. Right? Wrong. It was what it was. Two young teenagers fiddling around with very little knowledge of how it’s supposed to ‘work’. Ouch. We’d known each other for less than two weeks too which doesn’t really help. But the prescient part of the story, the bit that I really remember is the ‘girl’ part of the story. Despite the fact that I hadn’t felt connected to my experience, I did feel connected to him. And walking away a few hours later, not knowing whether or not I would see him again felt weird.
There is something in the make up of a woman that makes this so. It’s an ancient thing. It’s a cosmic trick if you like and if it were any different, the human race would not survive. It really is as simple as that. We need to feel an attachment to our mates so that we stick together. More so when we are young and fertile than at almost any other time of our lives because sex has the potential to produce life and if life is produced you can be damn sure that you won’t want to be alone.
So wondering, as today’s female story-teller does (despite the fact that she first thought her lover an ‘arrogant knob head’), ‘if it doesn’t mean something more to both of us’ is the most natural feeling in the world. I felt it when it happened to me, today’s story teller feels it and if my radio interviewer had been a woman, she would have felt it too. Its part and parcel of being female and we are built this way because we need to be, whether we like it or not. On some levels, it’s slightly irritating. I mean, wouldn’t it be so much simpler if we could all be like men? But at least it gives me the opportunity to completely contradict myself…..
I think men and women are more alike than ever before. I have come to this conclusion whilst sitting and listening to hundreds of men and women share the complexities of their intimate lives with me. But you don’t need to do this to reach the same conclusion, just look at the world and the way it has changed. Women have stamped all over male territory. We earn money; we buy our own houses and generally look after ourselves whilst damn well doing what we like these days. Meanwhile, the men’s ‘personal grooming’ market has grown out of all recognition. Men moisturize, wax and powder whilst taking paternity leave and occasionally chucking the day job in on a permanent basis and becoming stay at home dads. The times they are a changin’. So……where we will park the evolutionary will to attach ourselves to our mates, the piles of hormones and the traditional balance between the sexes in amongst this gender related confusion? Perhaps our physical make up might change to start mirroring what’s happening in society? Is this possible? Or more to the point, even desirable?
What will our relationships with each other look like in another 500 year’s time? I have absolutely no idea but whilst I am not sure I would like to stay there, I sure wish I could time travel and take a peek, I really do.
‘Hi, I'm Belinda*, I'm 15 from Manchester, England and I lost my virginity about 3 hours ago. I know this may seem like a weird thing to do, but the guy in question has left, so it's not like I've just left him in my bed to write an email about what's just happened.
This feels so strange telling the bare-honest truth to a total stranger, but we agreed, share no details, at all, to our friends.
Charlie and I aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Up until a few months ago, I didn't even count him as a friend, because I thought he was far too arrogant and a general knob-head and while I still think that, now it just adds to his charm. He was the first and only boy I ever kissed, a month ago, and somehow it's progressed into something that I'm telling you now, all through the wonders of Facebook and it's instant messaging services.
It wasn't perfect, but I never expected it to be after my friend told me how disappointing her first time was, but it was perfect enough for me. I didn't come or anything, but it felt good, and he seemed to have a good time…..so good in fact, that tomorrow I need to go get the morning after pill, which should be fun, making up an excuse to my mum about where I'm going.
To put it in the crudest terms, because there's no other way to put it, I didn't expect giving a blow-job to be so easy. A lot easier than a hand job. It was sore at first but then we eased into it and I did enjoy it immensely….he's fun to be around, because we're both incredibly sarcastic, we understood each other, and it eased the pressure, and made it fun. We were better by far with me on top, and I didn't mind, because I could get the pressure and the angle I wanted from that position. I bled a bit, which he didn't expect, and I forgot to expect.
But, that's the technicalities.
I didn't understand 4 hours ago how much this connects two people. Even though this was only meant to be a 'friends-with-benefits' style arrangement, I'm sitting here still smelling like him, and thinking of the beautiful things he said to me, and wondering if it doesn't mean something more to both of us, but neither one wants to admit it.
That's my story. I still can't quite believe I actually have a story! Thanks a million and one for letting me unload my shit on you!
Belinda Jakes (initials BJ, it's a burden)’
*names, as ever, are changed to protect identity.