The Virginity Project

How will I know?

 

I get so much anguished email from young people. Anguished because they feel like they have made the ‘wrong’ decision about their first time. In response, I find myself name checking Laura M. Carpenter’s book, ‘Virginity Lost’ once again, because in it, she pins down the different approaches that we have to our virginity loss. Having listened to many of your stories, I can concur with Laura’s conclusions about ‘the gifters’ as she calls them. Gifters see their virginity as something special, something that they will only ever have once and as such, they want to give it to the ‘right’ person. This approach, as you can imagine, is fraught with problems. How are we to know who that special person is? Will they be holding a sign with your name on it – like when you arrive at the airport? Or will you just ‘know’? And what, exactly does ‘just knowing’ entail? Is that the first time you feel ‘love’? Or ‘lust’? And how are you supposed to distinguish between these two very intense emotions? Do you see where I am going with this?

We should cut ourselves some slack because this is fresh territory for a newbie – gifter or not. Could we not forgive ourselves for being unsure and diving in feet first in order to find out? Today’s storyteller is a great example of such an approach.

Bryony is a classic gifter but she is also a practical woman. I often say to the people that write to me, the ones who are bashing themselves metaphorically around the head for making the ‘wrong’ decision that mistake making is part and parcel of growing up. We have to experiment in order to find out who we are and how we feel about any given situation. We have to work out what our personal deal breakers are and the only way to do this is via experimentation. ‘Mistakes’, as people insist upon calling them, might be made along the way but I prefer to call it ‘experience’ and the journey toward becoming a more rounded human being. Bryony is totally down with that. She has experimented and found out exactly what sort of person she is. ‘I don't do one night stands or casual sex because I abhor it’. She only knows that because she has tried it. She can speak from experience. Try it some time, it can be incredibly educational.

‘I'm 23 years old, British, female, and an anthropologist. People's stories and the way they tell them to you fascinate me, in particular the way they're so free with letting you know their thoughts. Whether its sheer curiosity or academic theory, I'm hooked! But unlike so many other Internet websites I feel the need to contribute my own story, even thought it isn't particularly original, but to me, I suppose it was.

I met Simon at my friend's joint 18th Birthday Party. It was at their country party just when the marquee, free bar and tent trend was just beginning. I had just finished boarding school, of which 2 years had been spent being teased and laughed at by ‘the cool posse’. It didn't particularly affect me but it just meant I didn't get a huge amount of male attention. The interesting thing is that before I went to boarding school I'd had two long term boyfriends, but until this party I was a virgin, and from what I gather from gossips; I was quite famously a virgin.

Being 18, free to have fun, and going to one of the last parties before I started Cambridge made me the most carefree I think I'll ever be, and when I sat down at the table for the main course, one champagne down, Simon’s cheeky glint, sarcasm and ‘cool boy’ looks and attitude instantly attracted me to him. It wasn't long before I was turning on what I thought was ‘the charm’ although in retrospect was probably just a mass of signals conveying the message ‘I want to sleep with you’ and soon we were chatting and joking. Clearly a popular man, Simon never needed to look for attention that night, he seemed to have everyone's and I liked, just for once, being a part of that. Whilst on the dance floor it became pretty clear that something was going to happen and soon enough we were outside kissing drunkenly, furiously. 

Now at this point, with any other stranger, I would always laugh, joke and go back into the party. Even though I had, like many teenagers done everything but - even with past boyfriends, I never felt ready to have sex, in many ways I don't think it was anything I ever wanted. We went back to my tent and jack pulled out a condom and I think he said ‘Shall I?’ And even though I was a little tipsy, I remember thinking why not? Oh wait I shouldn't, but why not? Go on, why not?

And then I said ‘Ermm, yes, ahhh, yes, YES, go on’

And at that point I gave my consent and on we went. There was no foreplay, no romance, just a rather timid me who was trying to get her head round the enormity of what she'd agreed to. Brought up within an Anglican community the emphasis was always on being in love, and I had always thought that I'd stick to my guns on that one The irony is that after so many years of nearly doing it, it was painful, I think I was rubbish, and after about ten minutes I got quite bored and pained. So even though it wasn't ‘over’ I think I just pushed him off and said ‘you know what? I think that’s enough.... sorry’ and something along those lines, and when he protested I think I just said ‘that's enough!’

I know that I did lose my virginity. My stained knickers and pain were the proof of that. Afterwards when I went back to join my group, I met up with my friends and I did tell a lot of them (I often need to bounce things around with other people to ascertain how I feel about things.) They were shocked, surprised and I think a little disapproving, also disapproving that I'd even told them! I felt relieved, defiant and a little like I'd blown my one chance, one virginity that I would never have it back. I wanted Simon to be more appreciative of what he'd just had - as others in the past had certainly tried to get - but not knowing me from Adam, he didn't really understand. And I quickly realized my telling him these details said a lot more about me, and what I wanted from that person.

As a hypochondriac I went to town the next day to get the morning after pill even though there was no real reason. It took me the next couple of months to work out how I felt about everything. Because the experience wasn't really pleasurable at all I was glad more than anything I did it with someone I didn't know or really care for, because I don't have to associate it with someone I really do love and care for.  The Simon thing bit me in the ass months later when a new university friend showed their friend Simon (THE guy) a picture of me on the computer, and the whole thing came out. Luckily I was just about able, to laugh about it, and was able to take the teasing. I've never seen Simon since, it doesn't bother me - I don't tend to date people who smoke...

I've had a string of boyfriends throughout university and after, most of whom I've slept with. Overall I'm comfortable with the decisions I make. I don't regret losing my virginity that way, and it felt like the right time to try it. In many ways my ‘spontaneity’ on the night was, I think, a small precursor to the kind of person I've become (I'm an aid worker) although I struggle with my Christian morals and teachings, alongside having sex and outside of declared love. That being said, I don't do one night stands or casual sex because I abhor it. My body and mind won't let me do it! Probably because I feel sex is better with someone who wants to be with you, not someone who just wants a shag, even if it is from you.

I'm aware that this isn't original but there are very, very few people who know this story and you are now one of them. I wanted to contribute, to feel less like a passive spectator in this giant forum in which all of mankind plays a part in their own way.‘

Gaining virginity...

 The Virginity Project has some interesting bits of news today, the first of which is a proud moment for me. Next Spring, Icon Books will publish ‘The First Time: True Tales of Virginity Lost and Found (Including My Own)’…yep, its my very own book and I couldn’t be more chuffed. As well as all the wonderful people that I interviewed for this book, your continued contact, stories and thoughts are a constant source of inspiration so thank you, this is not a solo effort, this is a very modern collaboration and I love hearing from you so please don’t stop.

Secondly, I have been blogging on The Huffington Post where you will find the occasional story that is not included on this blog. My first couple of posts are here. Check them out.

To celebrate my news, I chose a cheery little story from Scotland. Rachel, 16, wrote this tale specifically to inform us that ‘losing your virginity can still be wonderful’. And it is. I don’t hear too many stories like this one. Rachel lucked out. Here is a girl who lost her virginity to someone that she really likes. It sounds like the most obvious thing in the world, but that makes a difference. Being the nosey parker I am, I wanted to know what made this story different. Could Rachel give me some insight into her world, some clue as to how and why things had panned out this way when surely most of us are messing up and making terrible mistakes at that age? She generously fills us in with some background details about her family life which is hardly conventional but she does at least have two parents that like each other as well, a rare commodity these days.

What mostly stands out about this story is how much of a personal choice virginity has become. As Rachel says, ‘I lost my virginity purely for me…’. Her parents were not involved in this decision and neither was the influence of a local church. Even her boyfriend had limited input, waiting, patiently we assume for Rachel to make her choices in her own good time.

My mother’s generation did not own the right to make these choices mainly because whatever choice they made reflected, not just on themselves, but on their family as well. It simply wasn’t the done thing to please oneself. A virgin daughter could make a good marriage and asides from anything else, there were practical considerations as well. Fathers wanted to protect the bloodline. Ensuring your daughter is a virgin is the best way to do that.

Look at where we have got to now. Its an incredible change and one that mesmerized me as I pieced together the stories in my book, some from the very grand old ladies who agreed to be interviewed by me and lots from you modern young whippersnappers as well. Rachel bridges the gap nicely because this isn’t just some casual shag. This is a 16-year-old woman doing what comes naturally with a man that she cares deeply for. They might not spend the rest of their lives together – they won’t be forced into making the sort of decisions that our parents had to – but whilst they are together, they are going to have a lovely time. And that’s kind of cute.

‘I am 16, and 'lost it' last weekend. I have been with my boyfriend for nearly 7 months. He is my first boyfriend. For the past few years I will admit that I saw 'firsts' as terrible irritating things that needed to be done away with. I had my first kiss with a drunken guy at a music festival aged 15 simply so I could say I had done it, and I don't regret that, I just think in hindsight a first kiss really wasn't as big a deal as I thought It was. At the same point in time I felt as though I would lose my virginity with just about anyone at any opportunity just to get it over with. Since being with my boyfriend I feel totally different.

My boyfriend’s family had gone away for the night, a rare occurrence. In fact the only time we had been given the house to ourselves. As usual I went round to his to watch films, no mention or hint of sex in any shape or form. As it got later, we began kissing, touching on his couch, a typical activity we could get away with without his little brother walking in! 

I knew in my head that this would be 'the night'. Or at least I really wanted it to be! I was secretly 'gagging for it'. He put his hand up the back of my top and began to remove it, and it was at this point that I managed to pluck up to courage to say 'shall we take things to the bedroom?'.

He seemed pleasantly surprised…..he had never pressured me into anything I didn't want to do. And he told me later that he didn't expect this to be 'the night'. He lifted me up so I was straddling him face to face and he began to carry me to his bedroom. Halfway there he realized I was heavier than I looked so dropped me down and I dragged him by the hand instead. That made us laugh! 

The whole experience was light hearted, sexy and pleasurable. I hit my head off his wall far too many times (its one of those slanted wall loft conversion rooms), and we both proceeded rather clumsily, after all it was a first for both of us.

What surprised me was my surge of confidence. I was kind of taken in by the moment. My legs had a days worth of stubble on them, my underwear was not particularly alluring and we were so into it that I forgot to take my socks off. I didn't care. I was enjoying myself too much.

It kind of broke the rules for a first time. It didn't hurt, I didn't bleed, and he didn't last 30 seconds. (More like half an hour….I was impressed!) We tried different positions, missionary, me on top, my legs on his shoulders. When he walked me home we couldn't walk in a straight line, we were still buzzing. I think I'm still buzzing...

It has only been a boost to our relationship, brought us closer, physically and mentally. And yes, I'm glad its over with, but only so I can do it again!

My parents aren't the typical type, they're well….a little on the mad side, musicians. They are extremely jokey which makes it harder where guys are concerned. I'm much more likely to get the piss taken rather than a lecture. They seem to be pretty open (although not directly to me). They show each other affection, and my mum happily discusses Ann Summers parties with me in earshot. Awkward…

My parents aren't stupid. I'm sure they know what we get up to, although it has never been mentioned in conversation. They know I'm responsible enough to make my own choices, which I am very lucky to have the freedom to do. I don't go out and get drunk every night and shag the closest man, and they know that.

I don't really know their attitudes to virginity etc. I think my mum lost hers when she was 15 (I heard her say that drunk once lol) and my parents are not religious. Actually they aren't even married. Maybe my attitude came from the fact that there are no secrets or rules in my household, so no fear of breaking them or mistrust. I have always been encouraged to do what I want…they have encouraged me with art and music. They haven't tried to hold onto my childhood either. Letting me grow up at my own pace. I lost my virginity purely for me.’

Waiting for a girl like you...

Today’s story is a deviation from the norm. Today we have a story from a woman of 26 years of age….who waited for marriage to lose her virginity. Some of you will know that this is a story that I have been searching for for a while.

It is no surprise to many of us that our parent’s generation waited for marriage to lose their virginity, or, as my mother once put it, ‘we got married so that we could have sex’. Out of wedlock sex was frowned upon and the lack of contraception made the pre-marital variety a risky business. But in modern (Western society at least), we have very little reason to wait.

Women can manage their lives on their own terms. We are educated. We can support ourselves. Our fathers are, generally speaking, not losing sleep over the fact that the family heirlooms might not get passed onto the correct heir just because their daughters are not ‘squeaky clean’. (Mainly, it must be said, because we have very few heirlooms to lose) But that asides, we have very little reason to wait. Or do we?

What if some people just want to save virginity for the ‘right’ person? One of my male interviewees once used the term ‘to honor oneself’ in reference to his own virginity and I think I know what he meant. He meant that virginity should be lost when you really want to lose it. And not because all your classmates are losing it. If you applied that theory here, I think you could say that Kathryn well and truly honored herself, alongside her new husband. It’s a personal choice. She decided she wanted to lose her virginity with one man and one man only. He wanted the same. Whatever you think of religion, people who wait, Mormonism, whatever, there is something quite sweet about that. There is something very touching about sharing what is traditionally thought of as a teenage moment but as an adult…and with someone that you have committed to spend the rest of your life with. It’s not going to happen to me. (Horses, gates, bolted etc). But I enjoyed reading about someone else’s experience of something that in my world at least, is very, very rare.

As a footnote, I am looking for someone similar, based in the UK, to be interviewed for my book. Absolute anonymity is guaranteed. Religious or not, I would like to interview a man or a woman between the ages of 20 and 30 (ish), who has chosen to keep their virginity until they get married. If you know someone who might be suitable, please get in touch, I would be delighted to hear from you. Katemonroe@yahoo.com

Kathryn, 26 in the USA, waited until her wedding night 6 years ago

As I sit here watching my children play, it strikes me that the media and norms of society will have a great influence on their decisions and impressions about virtue and virginity.  It strikes me that this project represents exactly the voice that my children may hear telling them what is normal and expected.  If I hope my children see waiting until marriage as a real option, real people who did wait need to be more vocal.  This perspective can’t be seen if it isn’t offered.  So why not me?  I am modest, but not shy.

As I sit here considering what to write, I worry that people will read this account and know it is mine.  But that is silly.  My story is not remarkable or unique.  Most of my friends have similar stories.  That’s right, most of my social circle waited until their wedding night to lose their virginity.  This is normal and somewhat expected in the LDS (Mormon) community. 

I did not grow up in an LDS community.  I did not grow up where most people knew what a ‘Mormon’ was.  I was not sheltered or raised in a bubble.  Most people in my high school were having sex.  But not me.  I was waiting until marriage.  My religion has dating standards - youth are advised not to group date until 16, and not to pair off until 18.  This made it much easier to resist temptation.  My decision to wait and to follow these standards was not one my parents forced.  They stayed mostly out of my business, only commenting every once in a while that I should date more.  Not LDS, they had not waited for marriage, and did not understand my desire to do so. 

After high school I moved west to Utah, the Mormon capital. Dating picked up with many more options.  All who I dated were likewise LDS, most sharing the same values of waiting to marriage. 

Wait, what?  Men waiting until marriage? 

Yes, quite a few actually. 

At this point I had reached 18 and had decided that not only would I save my virginity for marriage, but that I would save my first kiss for the man I would marry.  Church teaching?  Nope.  There is quite a bit of kissing going on in Mormon dating.  But having made it that far, and being a romantic, I made this my new goal.  I loved dating, loved the company of interesting, handsome, and intelligent men.  I had no difficulty getting multiple dates a week, joking with my roommates that I never had to prepare a meal.  But love had not yet made an appearance, so neither had kissing. 

Then I met my husband. 

I accepted dates based on judgment, but kissing was a matter of prayer because it meant commitment and marriage.  Kissing meant ‘I love you.’  And when I prayed, I knew.  Our first kiss was sweet and perfect.  My chest was pounding - hammering.  My lips shaking.  It was closed mouthed and sweet.  I was 19.  Afterward I wanted to run away, but all I could do was float because gravity had fallen away and I was so light headed that I knew if I took a step I’d faint.  I momentarily freaked out the next day.  I was so young!  How could I know whom I should marry?  But I prayed again, and panic melted into peace. 

Our engagement was short, only a few months.  We were rarely alone with one another, not wanting to give opportunity to temptation.  We planned to marry in the temple, an honor reserved for those who lived worthily, including following the law of chastity, i.e. no sex outside of marriage.  We kissed, but our clothes stayed on and our hands stayed in neutral territory. 

Showers were thrown in my honor where friends gave advice and lingerie with knowing smiles.  My husband and I talked about our expectations and hopes for our intimate relationship; trying the best we could to measure sexual compatibility with words alone.  I visited the gynecologist for a premarital exam.  Many virgin brides seek medical counsel before marriage to minimize pain and worry.  I was able to try a few different formulas of the birth control pill and find the one that didn’t make me a raging lunatic.  I learned how to schedule my cycle using the pills so that our honeymoon would be worry free.  And I was given a dilator and instructions on ‘stretching’ my hymen to lessen pain and tearing.  I was modest, but not uneducated or unfamiliar with my anatomy.  I had been using tampons for years and was not squeamish about preparing my body for intercourse.

Finally, our wedding night approached.  We had been married for eternity.  We had dined with family and friends.  There had been music, and candles, and flowers.  Pretty dresses and handsome tuxedos.  Limousines, and sparkling cider toasts.  And sweaty palms, fluttering hearts, and anxious glances between bride and groom.  Could we leave this reception already?

Our hotel suite was amazing.  Music and candlelight, flower petals on the bed.  We hardly noticed.  I went in the bathroom to change from wedding gown to carefully selected negligee.  Odd that I was finally able to change in front of him but was still hiding in the bathroom.  To heighten anticipation, I decided.  I remember taking a deep breath and then walking to the bedroom. 

Our wedding night was amazing.  How to properly describe the anticipation of 20 years, and then the realization of perfection?  Every fantasy I had was fulfilled.  It was not painful, nor do I remember blood.  He was gentle, patient and attentive to my needs.  We used sight and touch to explore each other’s bodies for the first time, taking in their beauty.  Never having seen a penis before, I must say I was a bit surprised.  All the line drawings in anatomy books in the world wouldn’t give an accurate expectation. 

We took our time and turned the night slowly into morning.  I was able to watch sheer elation cross his face for the first time, and to know that what we were experiencing was ours only.  He had never had this moment with another woman.  There was something in that knowledge that took my breath away.  It was the right time, in the right place, and with the right person.  I remember my heart was so full of happiness and peace and ‘rightness’ that I thought it would burst.  Or that I could cry. 

Our marriage is strong, and through the years we have been able to learn much together.  Now, if we were to go back to the sex of our newlywed days, I’m sure I’d laugh and we’d be grateful for all that we have learned.  I know that the sex we had on our wedding night was not the best or most masterful sex ever had.  But I can’t disparage the reality of that night - the sex was perfect.  It was, I would bet, the most perfect loss of virginity in the history of humanity.  Perfect because it was the complete fulfillment of everything I had built it up to be, everything I could have hoped it would be.  Perfect for me.

Red letter day...

The Virginity Project celebrates a first of a different kind today. The first story we have ever received from Iceland and it’s a cracker, unless of course you have red hair in which case, its just plain old reddist. That asides, this is a story with a bit of charm and to that end, I have edited and corrected as little as possible in order to allow the story to retain its true flavour.

Today’s author conducted much of her virginity loss pre-amble with notes passed across a school classroom. Wouldn’t it be great if she still had those notes? It made me think about my own collection of ‘stuff’. Somewhere in my brother’s attic I have a box filled with notebooks, diaries, photos, tickets for gigs and god knows what else. All those amazing summers I spent in Greece with my best friends, living in a bamboo hut by the sea, we would write down our dreams every morning in a notebook (one in particular involved stuffing a giraffe down a toilet, that one always stuck in my mind..), we would jot and draw and later we would fill the pages with drunken rants….all those books still exist. The last time I found them, I spent a night crying with laughter at our teenage brilliance, originality and, at times, complete stupidity. We didn’t know how funny we were but we were.

I wonder if today’s youth will have the same physical reminders of their own funny youth’s (?) because we do so much digital communication now. We have ‘e tickets’ instead of the real thing, texts can’t be kept, photos don’t get printed out, we write on laptops instead of in diaries, nobody ever thinks to send a post card these days…our formative years could easily get consigned to memory if we’re not careful. To this end, if you’ve got diaries and photos, for goodness sakes hold onto them. And if you have virginity loss love notes and diary entries…and you’re feeling really brave…we love transcripts here at The Virginity Project…in return, I have no idea if I ever wrote about my own virginity loss in my teenage diary but next time I get up into that attic, I’m going to find out and tell you.

‘My Name is Iris and I was born in 1987 in Reykjavík, Iceland. I lost my virginity when I was 15 years old.

There was this red-haired boy in my class that had been in ‘love’ with me for a really long time. Because he was a red haired guy, I did not pay NO attention to him whatsoever (of course, because red haired people were geeks, that's just written in teenager's unwritten rules).
Okay, so we were in class, just minding our business and studying, he sent me a note (you know what I am talking about. These funny notes kids send to each other all the time at class; funny drawings of the teacher, ‘love’ notes, jokes and etc) and in that note it said ‘Hey what's up?’

I sent him a note back ‘Good, what about you?

He sent me another one back ‘I'm good; want to hang out sometime soon?

I hesitated, but I sent him another note back ‘yeah sure...’

And so he sent me a note back with a big smile on it and then with a question that shook me....’:) Are you a virgin?....’

I sent him a note back, telling him no (because I didn't want to look like a girl who DIDN'T had sex....trying to act cool and all that.
So.....the hot air started to fill the classroom when he sent me another note ‘Want to help me? I'm a virgin..’
I said on the note back to him ‘yeah sure... when?
I got a note back within seconds after I had sent him mine:
‘A.S.A.P please :)’
I told him to meet me right after school at his house, just get it over with...
He then replied ‘I can't after school, gotta go shopping with my sister....’
So, I told him: ‘This Friday after school’. He agreed to that...
SO, because I WAS a virgin, I had to prepare.... I put myself in ALL KINDS of positions at home, did gymnastic stuff. I stuck some things into my lovely vagina to make it look like I had been having sex before…

The saga continues, Friday came.

After school I called him, asked him if it was still on and he screamed YES... so I walked to his house, rang the bell and entered his home....
‘Uhhhm...you want a drink or something? My parents aren't home and they got a closet full of alcohol’ He said kind of nervous.
I acted all cool and ‘used’ to this situation, and replied ‘No lets just get into your room right now...’
We got to his room and I sat on his bed, already undressing myself when he said ‘Uhm. aren't we suppose to get a foreplay or something, to make you wet and horny?’
‘NO that's just myths, it's easy’ I said... all ego! (But I was DYING I was so nervous and really didn't know what I was doing)
Okay, he agreed to that, and naked we got and on his bed naked we got together.....
He went on top, put on his condom.... I just laid there, didn't know what the FUCK I was suppose to do... was I suppose to help him? Finding the whole? Or was it just in guy's instinct to find the right whole?
He found the whole... had some problems putting it in (of course,,, I was a virgin) and in he got......
Some back and forwards.... and then some more until he came...
‘Okay! That was fun’ I said.
‘Yeah this was great’ he said back....
‘Okay.... I'm gonna go home now, see you in school after the weekend’ I said and left....
And on my way home I thought to myself ‘How fucking cool am I now??? I aint no virgin no more......’ that was the top of my day....
But when it came to Monday, and gym class begun at school I saw that EVERYONE was whispering and pointing fingers at everyone...
THEN I thought..... ‘DAMN, i just lost my VIRGINITY to a fucking LOSER’ .....
hahahahahaha........’