The Virginity Project

'Just for the first time dear...'

Well now, just when I thought I might have run out of things to say about virginity loss and move onto pastures new (hair loss? sanity loss?), someone comes along and presents us with a new conundrum. What would you say to a healthy young woman who appears to have a similarly healthy interest in sex – but can’t, for some inexplicable reason, do it?

We have met all sorts of virgins on these pages. Shy virgins, religious virgins, people with all sorts of issues who, generally speaking, are not entirely comfortable with their virginal status. But they are all able to at least articulate a reason as to why this might be. They can usually point their finger at some area of their life and tell you what they think might be the problem. But not today’s storyteller. And at first, neither could I.  I was baffled. Everything seemed to be in full working order: sociable, healthy, sexually interested, what could be getting in her way?

Upon further investigation, it would seem to be….herself and another vital organ that we discussed last week: our minds. If we, as we did then, work on the assumption that for most people, the brain can actually be considered to be the most vital sexual organ of them all, then you can see why things might go horribly wrong when its not working properly.

Which leads me to my diagnosis. Vaginismus. An ominous sounding word for a straightforward problem. Vaginismus is a reflex that causes the muscles in the vagina to tense suddenly therefore making penetration difficult or impossible. A cursory look at the Wikipedia entry for this condition confirms the following: ‘A vaginismic woman does not consciously control the spasm. The vaginismic reflex can be compared to the response of the eye shutting when an object comes towards it.’

How annoying. And when you think about it, it doesn’t seem like such a crazy response. Having something inside your body for the first time is a tricky thing, Vaginimisis or not. That’s one of the reasons that I loved ‘Peg’ so much, the story I published a couple of weeks ago about a man being penetrated by his wife with a dildo. It was interesting to see how a man responds to a situation that a woman deals with all the time. And much as I came down on the side of men last week when we raised the thorny subject of whether it is harder for men or women to lose their virginity, you should never underestimate the impact of allowing another human being into your body, literally for the first time. That requires trust, patience and respect. And not just for the first time, but for lots of times after that too.

So perhaps it is not such a surprise to learn then that some people’s psyche’s may just respond with the following: ‘Do you know what? I’m just not that into this.’

And there’s your problem. But problems are there to be solved and there is no doubt in my mind that this one is ripe for the solving. A decent therapist, a bunch of patience and a bit of self-exploration  - on every level – and I reckon this story could have a happy ending. Cindy, I look forward to hearing it.

Cindy. Aged 21

'Well, so here I go... sending an email to a total stranger whose blog I just stumbled across is not something I ever thought I would do, but it seems quite fitting. Serendipitous even. I love your blog, because it almost gives me hope. Thank you.

If I am being completely honest, I came across the Virginity Project after typing in ‘can't find hole, positions for losing virginity.’ Because of this, one can assume that this is not a story of losing my virginity, but rather, trying in vain.

I'm a twenty-one year old college senior about to embark on the rest of my life and I feel hopelessly resigned to a life of celibacy. Most days, I feel like the protagonist in Nathaniel Hawthorne's ‘The Scarlet Letter’, except it’s a big red V card pinned to my jacket.

I know the story. I know all of it, because I'm also someone who cannot keep my mouth shut. I think my entire university community must know my status - because its most likely I told them. Whether it be over a cold beer at the bar or Calzone in the dining hall, I have admitted my guilt on numerous occasions as if someone (anyone!) could give me some answers, some guidance.

I know about ‘waiting for the right guy.’ I know about the plethora of procedures (how clinical that sounds...) one can go through to make things easier; to loosen things up. I know that I've tried with more than four guys in the last five years... armed with my ever expanding condom and lube collection, we try different ways at different times in different settings with different ambience and a different soundtrack, and I still feel SOL.

I lost my stage theatre virginity this past month by acting for the first time in Eve Ensler's ‘The Vagina Monologues’. That has to count for something?

Or maybe, its one more way of showing how obsessed how I am with my own anatomy. So obsessed because I can't for the life of me figure out how it works! And here I sit, resorting to a Google search engine to assuage my fears.

When I mention guilt, it’s not that Catholic schoolgirl sort of thing. If anything, it’s the opposite. It’s the guilt of knowing that I can't get over the mental hurdle which has increased exponentially in height.

I'm not shy and I'm definitely not a prude. I love to be naked on Saturday mornings and cook pancakes in my underwear. I like to dance to horrendous hip-hop by myself and I like to drop it like its hot and I like to watch porn. I am not a Christian and I am not from a conservative family.

I've never met a virgin like me. People are usually shocked and I always have to warn guys before things get too far along that I don't put out. I freak out so much anyway that they usually don't want to stick around - and they definitely don't want to stick anything in. I must have penetration phobia or something.

Lately, I have one of those terribly annoying ‘friends with benefits’ who is also terribly satisfying. I like to call him over sometimes when a paper just gets too much to handle or when I haven't talked to him in a week and I feel things slipping away. It’s ok that he's a rock climber - you know the type, crunchy-granola guys with unruly beards and a great body who is forever inaccessible but likes to rage at parties all weekend and make you laugh at three am? He forgets to call a lot, even though he is best friends with my roommates. I always go for the guys with the glimmer of hope.

I'm too emotionally intelligent for him anyway. Remember, I know the story. I know the myth that the first guy you have sex with is NOT the first guy you fall in love with. I've already fallen in love with that first guy. I want the first guy I have sex with, obviously.

We try a lot, but I am scared. He makes up in patience what he lacks in proximity. My legs clench up. I'm like a brick wall and he's trying to pile drive into me but there must be steel reinforcements between the brick and the drywall. Or something. Sorry for the terrible details masked in even cheesier metaphors.

It almost always ends in my tears of frustration and his cold shower. It’s been five months of this and it’s starting to get old. I'm starting to get old.

I'm starting a heated power yoga class this week to try to shake things up a bit. Trying to get the walls to crumble. I went and visited a gynaecologist for advice. She told me to purchase a vibrator and the trusty old classic ‘How To Be Your Own Sex Therapist.’ Best doctor's orders ever? Perhaps, although the 70s era pictures in the volume she suggested leave something to be desired. I just need to get down with myself, she said. My therapist prescribed me an anti-anxiety pill ‘just for the first time, dear.’

I'd rather call over my trusty old not-boyfriend and get down to business without some sort of pharmaceutical contract, thanks.

I'm too much of a screamer to be silenced for so long.

Cindy

United States'

 

Touched for the very first time...

It’s all about virginity loss. Or is it?

When I began this project I was like a dog with a bone. We all lose our virginity and I couldn’t wait to get out there, wrestle a few subjects to the ground and ‘listen’ to the stories. Well, I have. I continue to. And I love it. I love listening to the episodes in people’s lives that are imprinted into our psyches like hot wax into a seal. The moment itself could be as dull as dishwater but it doesn’t matter because the beauty is in the detail and the connective tissue of emotions that frame this unique story.

‘You never fall in love like you do when you’re eighteen. Shot though the heart. I’ll have that again, any day of the week.’ Russell, lost virginity aged 17

Virginity loss is the backdrop to a thousand visceral teenage moments…

‘For me, the first hands-down-the-pants experience was far more significant. That was earth shattering. I mean, there is a hole there. How bizarre is that?’ Tim, lost virginity aged 16

Virginity loss is the swing door between child and adulthood. A door that we all want to push…even if we’re unsure of what we may find on the other side….

‘It was a pivotal moment, not only because I lost my virginity but also because it was a first taste of freedom, of what life could be like out in the big wide world and it was totally thrilling’. Heidi, lost virginity aged 15

In a Carrie Bradshaw moment of contemplation recently, I got to thinking. What happens if you never got around to having a ‘first time’? Or even a second or third time? What happens if you don’t actually have a sex life at all? Because believe me, it does happen. My inbox will attest to this. There are a whole lot of people in this sex sodden world that can’t, won’t or don’t have sex. They are sidelined, different, square pegs in round holes, whatever you want to call them, my inbox is full of people with no place else to go.

In the old days it wouldn’t have mattered because nobody talked about sex. It wasn’t on page 3. It wasn’t even on the top shelf. It was alluded to. In the words of one of my interviewees, ‘My grandmother used to buy ‘Woman’s Own’ and we got a lot of information from reading the problem pages despite the fact that the problems were never spelt out. We had to do an awful lot of reading between the lines to guess what they were talking about.’

It’s not like that now. Talking about our sex lives is virtually an Olympic sport. Sex is everywhere and as such, we have a ‘keeping up with the Jones’s’ type situation on our hands. A sex life is a bit like a new house or a car. We all want to know if ours is as good as the next person’s. Is it as fast, shiny and fabulous as my neighbours? Do the posh curtains reflect the reality of what lies behind them? (Quite possibly not), and if it isn’t up to par, can I trade it in for a new one?

It’s all about the sex. The quality, the quantity, the ups and the downs, the literal in’s and the outs. Ok, I’m done with the metaphors and I fear I am driving this car in another direction but my point is this: Is it necessary to have sex in today’s society and is there something wrong with you if you don’t?

Of course, one must differentiate between those that have tried and didn’t want to buy and the ones that never even got to first base. I was looming around the toaster the other morning. For anyone who knows me, this is my edible version of the water cooler. The toaster always has the answers – and food. As I smeared butter and marmite over two lucky pieces of bread, a work colleague suddenly confided in me. ‘I’m not really bothered about sex at all. I’m quite happy with a cuddle. If I never had sex again, I wouldn’t be that fussed’.

I almost choked on my breakfast. She is twenty-five, healthy and engaged to be married. Is there something wrong with her? I can’t say. I am not a scientist but it wasn’t something that she wanted to shout about. Why would you? Everything in today’s society pushes women towards the idea of being sexy – and sexy equals having sex. Admitting you don’t have sex is virtually akin to being a non-functioning member of the human race.

We can ask questions. Is her relationship as it 'should' be? How does her future husband feel about this? Does he even know? And why do we care so much? People posses varying degrees of sex drive. Some people want to have a lot of sex and some people don’t. It probably is that simple but we still want to dig a little deeper and ask what is really wrong with a person who could have a lot of sex - but chooses not to. Women after all, are the only species on the planet with a body part dedicated solely to the pursuit of pleasure.

I fear I am asking more questions than I can answer. Modern life is complicated and I sometimes wonder if the proliferation of sex in today’s society has created more questions than it can answer. Older generations had less expectation for their lives but modern life commands us to ‘have it all’ – careers, families and oodles of sex. Excuse the pun but life can be a juggling act and sometimes a ball has to be dropped.

For those who don’t get past first base, religion is often a barrier and guilt is another. Sometimes both at the same time. But we can’t blame everything on religion. The number one enemy of virginity loss is the C word - confidence - and lack of. Like anything else in life, the longer you take to get around to something, the bigger deal it becomes. The unknown can begin to assume scary proportions and before you know it, you’ve got a low-grade phobia standing in your way. I see it all the time. As the days, months and years tick by; people feel they have been excluded from a race that everybody else seems to be winning. Can they ever catch up?

With guts and determination, anything is possible. Check the story I posted on the 21st of October. Its an extreme example but its owner was a sixty year old man who lost his virginity FOUR years ago, so no. It’s never too late and if it makes you feel any better, you are not alone. There are so many people out there who have never had sex. It’s just that you’re not wearing badges advertising the fact. I recently got this email from Lisa* in the States:

‘I see the majority of your project has to do with collecting stories on people losing their virginity. My problem is little different. I am a virgin who is looking for a male virgin to have a long-term relationship with which will hopefully lead to a sexual relationship that is based on love and not just the physical act. Some people try to advise me to go church to meet someone, but that's the thing: I'm not Christian. I'd consider myself agnostic.’

Frustrated with her own visibility and that of other virgins, she has decided to take action:

Several days ago I set up a simple forum for virgins seeking virgins.In my willingness to try to be more inclusive, I'm not completely against people joining who are coming from a religious stance with their virginity. However, as I have explained to more than one person, it seems like there are many dating websites our there for Christian singles and other religious persons. I wanted to take this in a more non-religious slant.

If you'd still like to mention the forum that I set up, here it is:

http://virginseekingvirgin.yourbb2.com/.

I saw Donny Deutsch on TV yesterday talking about how men should use business strategies in their personal lives in order to find someone special. ‘Have a plan and don't wait for things to just happen.’ I'm smart enough to know that when it comes to something so imprecise as picking the right time, place, and person to fall in love with, making a plan isn't always going to work. But the idea that I took from that is this: you have to make yourself visible. I figure, if people can ask for things like a BDSM relationship on an Internet ad, why should I feel weird about asking for a virgin relationship?’

Here, here. I concur, and I am back where I began. I began to collect stories about virginity loss but along the way, I learnt just as much about life, longing and love from the people who don’t have sex as the ones who do. It isn't all about virginity loss. No matter who you are or what you are, all your stories have their place and their purpose. Sexuality isn’t all about having sex and life is so much more than just a series of milestones.

*All names changed to protect identity.

My my, Hey hey....

Today is a full moon. And it’s not just any old full moon, my friends. Oh no. Today is an Aries full moon, and, as you might have gathered, I am an Aries. To celebrate my four-legged, two-horned day of self, I am adding a widget to my Blog that I have been resisting for some time. What has the moon got to do with virginity? My point exactly. Or at least that’s what I thought.

A quick Google takes us from the most tenuous of links – did you know that Air’s first album was called MOON Safari and their second, The VIRGIN Suicides? Right through to the downright significant. Artemis is the goddess of the moon……..and virginity. The moon represents cycles, fertility, endings – and beginnings. We even have a ‘chaste moon’. That happens in March so no need to watch your step just yet. No, September is the harvest moon, so in the words of the great Neil Young...

…there’s a full moon risin'
Lets go dancin’ in the light
We know where the music’s playin’
Lets go out and feel the night…

Good lord, I love the Internet.

Island life.....

Ok, so I lied about the bit about my mother being a virgin. By the time I was born, I was already the proud owner of two older brothers and a sister, and it all began, at least in my case, at The Star Hotel in Greece. It was the summer of ‘67 and my parents had fled a war, and a life, in Beirut. En route to England, they enjoyed the charms of a small Greek island and nine months later, out I popped. Fast-forward forty years and here I am, back at the place I begun. Creepy? A little. Paradise? Most definitely.

Spetses is a beautiful island. Five miles across, it is coloured with a thick coating of lime green trees. But the jewel in the crown is the sea and it is a constant canvas of change. All life here revolves around it and in it. Boats come and go ferrying people, cars, animals and food. Fisherman fish. Walk past them and you’ll see a man cutting his catch. 'Out of the sea and into the soup pot', he tells me as an eel squirms between his thick fingers and tries to wiggle its way back to the water.

People swim, in the harbour, on the beaches and off rocks. Mostly for pleasure, but often for business. One day I watched two bald men tread water for almost fifty minutes. I couldn’t see their suits but I got the distinct impression that they were cutting a deal. The sea is as good a place as any boardroom.

And me? I was flat on my back in the sand. Did I mention the heat? Oh my, it was hot. Between books, suntan lotion and food, I lay in the sun, soaking it up like a re-chargeable battery, my concentration broken only once, on the day that the charge of the jellyfish occurred. A frisky wind blew these plate sized wine gums into shore. It was like a scene from Jaws. Children were snatched from water and men brandished sticks and paddles.

It was all the funnier the next day when two laughing Greek children plucked one out of the water and balanced it between four pudgy arms under the watchful eye of their mother. Ok, so they’re not poisonous then. The beach heaved a collective sigh of relief. With a shade of embarrassment thrown in.

Day melted into equally hot nights and I occasionally allowed myself to be entertained by the antics of a middle-aged fisherman called Lakis Spiliotis.

‘Are you a Frenchman?’ I asked one evening. He was wearing a blue and white striped top with a black beret at the time. ‘No’, he said. ‘I am a fisherman. I just like to dress up is all.’

‘What are you coming as tomorrow night?’ I asked.

‘A cowboy’, he said. And he did. Here you will have to insert your own mental picture of a grizzly fifty-six year old man wearing a Stetson and blue jeans tucked into a pair of cowboy boots. It was every bit as comical as you might think.

By this point I had already been made an honoury Spetsian due to the story of my humble beginnings on the island. ‘You should go and see the owner of The Star Hotel’, said Lakis, one night. ‘It’s still the same guy who owned it in ‘67. But take your family with you. Lefteris is seventy-five but he’ll still try to make flirt with you’. He laughed a laugh as dirty as dishwater but on my last night I did just that, and it was a showstopper.

‘Are you Lefteris?’ I asked. It couldn’t be anyone else. I knew exactly who he was before I even asked the question. He may have been the owner of a hotel but he looked like the captain of the ship. I held out my hand and introduced myself. ‘I’m Kate’, I said. I couldn’t think how else to explain what I wanted to say, so I just came out with it.

‘My parents conceived me in your hotel in the summer of ‘67.’

The jaw of the American businessman to his left dropped open. ‘Bo, bo, bo, bo, bo, bo, bo,’ Lefteris kept saying to himself, or to anyone else who would listen as he shook his hands back and forth in rhyme to his voice. He grinned from ear to ear, grabbed my arm and led me to a chair. He wanted to know all the details. Not that I could furnish him with anything but raw facts. I hadn’t been there, but I was now, the three dimensional evidence of my parents union at the Star Hotel in Spetses.

We sat and drank as the sun went down and Lefteris told me about the sausage shaped aircraft that used to transport water to the island in the sixties. They may have been surrounded by the stuff, but it wasn’t for drinking. Stavros Niarchos, the shipping magnate, paid for pipes so that the whole island could enjoy the free flow of fresh water in their homes. We talked about hotel life, package customers versus private and the summer tourist trade. We talked about people, passions and about how life on a tiny Greek island has grown up and changed over the past forty years. He didn’t try to make flirt with me, but the twinkle in his eye was plain to see.

In a curious confluence of time and symbols, the next day, I noticed the passenger boat that docks every single morning in the harbour by the hotel. It’s name?

No introductions nessesary...

We are in a virginity hotspot.

I received this email from Chloe*……

Billy meet Chloe

Chloe meet Billy

Dear Kate

I actually am still a virgin even though I am going to be thirty years old this June. I went to Catholic school until my junior high, age fifteen, and a Catholic girls school for one year where a nun is the headmaster who was very popular among students for being very strict.

My family, especially my mother herself, is also rather conservative. So I turned out to be rather a conservative person as well, especially regarding matters related to sex. I have been taught since I was little that a good and nice girl would save her virginity until her first night after her wedding for her husband.

I suppose it is probably due to my experience overseas, where I got to meet different people from different countries and backgrounds that I had my mind opened up to new ideas, I became more open-minded. And now after having different experiences and listening to different ideas, I am torn and it feels as if I am in front of a crossroad and if I decided to take one of the two paths, I would not be able to go back.

On one hand, I have this idea that I would be perceived and perhaps even feel myself less worthy in front of a future significant other who is still a virgin, (perhaps having similar background like mine), since the teachings from Catholic classes and from my mother are so ingrained in me.

On the other hand, I also think that if I would like to have a good marriage, it would be probably wise to find out before whether the two of us are compatible and a potential problem like the sex life can be resolved or at least understood before getting married.

My biggest fear is that since I have very little experience even in the foreplay area since I have never had a long-term boyfriend to explore with, the problem is probably going to be from my side.

Recently, as I project that I probably will not marry nor find a long-term significant other, and if it is not such a big deal about losing virginity especially the thought that it is not as glorious as a lot of people perceive, I am considering that I probably should change the way I perceive virginity - in particular mine.

I am not sure why I am writing to you actually, and by now after writing this long, I am a little bit tempted just to erase the e-mail. However, I suppose my curious side won the battle and I was wondering if there are people who are torn about this matter like me as well?

I suppose it is rather a nice feeling to know that I am not the only person who is having doubts about this and it would be even nicer to be able to discuss it as well.

Best wishes

Chloe

Would anyone like to feedback to Chloe?

Please comment or email me: katemonroe@yahoo.com

*All names changed to protect identity.