The Virginity Project

Looking for my first ‘difficult’ story was, well, difficult. 

It seemed like a weird thing to do for starters….to actively seek people who had had traumatic virginity loss experiences….but I was always sure about one thing – I had to present a 360 degree view of this moment. We are many different people with many different stories to tell. I couldn’t exclude anything.

When I did find that first story, it happened by accident. I had just finished interviewing a lady for my book when her partner started asking me questions.

‘What sort of stories are you putting in your book’ he asked.

‘All sorts’ I answered, ‘I want to make sure I paint an accurate picture of this experience.’

‘Do you have any difficult stories yet?’ He asked

Strange as it seems, I didn’t see his next question coming.

‘I’ll tell you my story if you like…but it isn’t very nice.’

It seems even stranger to say that I leapt at the chance. Partly because I wanted the story for my book but partly because I instinctively knew that he needed to tell it.

We all need to talk. I cannot think that there is an exception to this rule. Even if we only tell that story once, the action of speaking out loud somehow seems to lessen the effect that the story has over our head. Talking takes away its power.

I don’t know how this happens, but it does. In a formalized situation this is probably called therapy. In my situation, it was one person sitting and listening to another human being talk. He sweated, he paused, he stopped and he carried on. It wasn’t easy but it had to be done.

It’s the same with the blog. People need to be heard, sometimes because they have never been heard before and often because they want other people to learn from their experiences. So in the spirit of talking, and listening and learning, here is Jane’s story. Its not easy, but it needs to be told.

Jane. Born 1979. Lost virginity aged 20. Lives: USA

'I lost my virginity aged twenty to my boyfriend at the time. I was raised by parents who, though not particularly religious, were rabidly opposed to premarital sex. I wasn't really sure what I myself believed. When I mentioned to my boyfriend that I wanted to wait until marriage, he wanted to know if I really thought we could be together for eight to ten years without making love, and how strange that would be. He wouldn't stop pressing and I was curious, so after a couple of months I agreed to do it with him. However, I was so ashamed of my decision that I was afraid to tell any of my mentors-in-life about it or ask them any questions in advance.

I was a little nervous about the pain, but he assured me he'd be gentle. We went and got our STD testing done and bought some condoms and lube. I got on the pill (BIG mistake - it gave me SEVERE depression and badly interfered with my ability to think clearly and make good decisions. I didn't discover this until nearly a year later!). At around noon on the appointed day, we went over to my house.

We kissed for maybe two minutes. I had moved the condoms and lube out of the way because I thought we were supposed to make out for a long time first. He moved them back, put on the condom and put the lube on me. I didn't say anything because I figured he was the one with experience. Then he got on top of me….

PAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN

I started screaming. He did it again - tried to go all the way in as hard as he could. I was sort of looking over his shoulder at the sunshine in the window and then I blacked out from the pain and I couldn't see or hear anything for a few moments.

When I came to, he gave a happy laugh. ‘Wow, you really ARE a virgin!’ he said before doing it AGAIN. The pain was absolutely blinding and he started to express frustration at not being able to get it all the way in.

We tried a couple of other positions before he was able to get the thrusting going, though it would be another couple of days before my hymen actually broke. I looked up at a picture on the wall and focused on not blacking out again. After a while, he laughed again, pulled out, showed me the filled condom, said, ‘Look what you did!’ and went in the bathroom to wash up.

‘I feel like a failure,’ I said when he came back to bed.

‘Aw’, he said, ‘you're the best!’

Subsequent ‘lovemaking’ sessions were not quite as painful as the first, but almost, and by the time my hymen finally broke, I was pretty much terrified of the sexual act. My body would tense up with fear, which of course would make it more painful, which would make me more afraid, which would make it more painful, etc. Not ALWAYS, but most of the time.

If I said ‘no’ he would either do it to me anyway or he would stop for the moment but sulk, complain, or call me names until I gave in, even if it took weeks. All this time, I was still afraid to tell anyone what was going on, and I thought I had to stay with him. I thought no one would love me - either romantically or as a friend - since I wasn't a virgin any more.

I stayed with him a total of six months, until he sucked me dry of emotional energy, and then I finally got out of there. I was numb for two months before having BIG TIME flashbacks that I now know were symptoms of PTSD. At that point my only alternative was putting my head through a wall, so I told one of my mentors. He was extremely caring and supportive, so I told the other two. I got off the pill, went to counseling, fought the PTSD for about a year and a half before meeting my husband, who is the love of my life. We have now been together for more than 7 years. About a year ago, the PTSD came back, so I have had to go back into counseling and go back to relying on my support system. Fortunately, I still have all the same mentors and friends, and they're still very supportive. I hope to make a full recovery.

Morals of the story:

1. Don't go on hormonal birth control unless you have a close friend closely monitoring you for signs of depression (you can't do this yourself; you can't tell if your head is being fucked with when your head is being fucked with).

2. Abstinence-only sex education is TERRIBLY harmful and damaging. I would have been FAR less likely to do it, and I certainly would have ended the abusive relationship sooner, if I hadn't been afraid that anyone I told would think I was a horrible person for having sex outside of marriage.

3. ‘Sexual abuse’ and ‘rape’ don't have to involve weapons or even fists in order to destroy people. My boyfriend used words only nine times out of ten and never hit me or threatened to hit me. I still struggle with self-loathing that I ‘could’ have stopped him and didn't. But I have to accept that I didn't have a superhuman psyche. PLEASE, if something like this is happening to you, TELL SOMEONE (you probably know, deep down, whom to tell) and GET OUT. 

Another point I wish to make:

I had had a very pleasurable non-intercourse sexual experience only a few months prior to getting together with my boyfriend. And, my first sexual experience with my husband (and no, we didn't wait until marriage!) was so pleasurable I can't even begin to describe it. I didn't even know my body was capable of responding that way! I had a handful of neutral sexual experiences, too, both before and after the abusive relationship. This site has helped me to realize that the good and neutral experiences are just as important, and deserving of recognition, as the bad ones.' 

 

 

 

3 guys, 3 stories, 1 week.....Part three...

Being the crack-berry addict that I have become, it’s all I can do not to email people back from wherever I am, at whatever time of the day or night. Mahesh was a case in point. But being as I was hosting my own Christmas party at the time and several sheets to the wind, on this occasion, I held back. Probably a good thing because a story like this requires the gentle touch and three vodka and sodas was not going to help me apply it effectively. (Please note: I am also the world’s worst lightweight). Here is what made me want to weep into my drink just a little bit that night….

‘Hi Kate,

I recently came across your blog and I find posts witty and informative. I am part of the few who make up the lowest rung of the social ladder. An outcast of Humanity, no friendships or relationships. An existence of Misery. You already know how I lost my virginity by now. Yeah, I paid a prostitute to have sex with and had my first kiss with her too. We were both twenty-two years old.

I was born in Nepal and when I was eleven we moved to UK to live with my father, who was then serving in the British Army. I struggled to fit in from the first day and in coming days & years spiraled into who I am now.

This may disgust you, but that's my reality & how it happened.

Regards

Mahesh.’

On the contrary and from the sober safety of a Sunday morning, I assured Mahesh that his story, and he himself, most certainly did not disgust me. Far from it. My only instinct was to try and bolster the confidence of someone who had clearly taken a brave step forwards. I have said this too many times - but life is too short to feel crap about stuff that can be changed. Might he feel the benefit of some talking therapy? It seems that I had hit the nail right on the head:

‘Hi Kate,

Thanks for your considerate reply.

Fortunately I did accept help a month ago and it has helped me in every way. I have grown more in a month than in all my life before. I only wish that I'd been there years before. Now I can see where and how I want to live my life, but when I see how far away I am, I get panic attacks and bouts of deep depression.

The woman I was with was respectful and considerate. She made me at ease and I enjoyed my time with her. She also completely changed my perceptions about sexual workers. She was a student in a local university, doing this of her own free will. I was surprised how pretty she was when I met her. I never imagined girls like her doing this. Intelligent, beautiful and from a ‘well-off’ background. Maybe I was extremely lucky finding her and her choosing me as I confessed I was a virgin and had never kissed a girl in an email. Rather than be repulsed, she wanted me!

The sex was just incredible. There is no other way to describe it. It was more than everything I had imagined. But I also want to make a point about how virginity isn't just a physical thing, I realised this after I lost it. Rather, the emotional aspect is as important and one that was completely missing during my first time. I feel that this emotional part can only come through a loving relationship. I have only begun to develop socially and emotionally but I am already reaping the rewards and later on in life, I know I will have good friendships and loving/rewarding relationships with women.

She was a step in me receiving help. So there you go, losing virginity gave me a new birth in life!! I am now a Virgin in Life.

Regards

Mahesh.’

Alls well, it seems, that ends well.

 

3 guys, 3 stories, 1 week.....Part two...

A couple of days ago, I promised to tell you a slightly longer story about a young man losing his virginity to a prostitute. If there were such a thing as a master class in how to lose your virginity to a sex worker, I have a sneaky suspicion that it might sound something like this:

Cody. Born in 1987. Lost virginity a couple of weeks ago.

‘Alright, here goes-

I'm twenty-one years old, from the USA and I recently lost my virginity to a Canadian prostitute. I'm sending you this because I hope it helps other people who were in situations like mine, and because writing it will help me collect my thoughts.

I originally got the idea from a close friend of mine. He saw my frustration as I went through all kinds of changes in life - not the least of which was choosing a different religious life than the one my family had. I grew up in 'a certain church' that is very strict and extremely sexually repressive. While it teaches some great things, sex outside of marriage is called ‘the sin next to murder’ and anything even remotely sexual is 'evil'.

I was also coming out of an 'awkward teenager' phase - I had been too religious to even swear. I was horribly overweight. My confidence was low, my social skills damaged by the religiosity, as well as by the many times my family had moved and by the isolation and 'sheltered' childhood I had had.

By the time I was a freshman in university, I was only ambivalent about having a sex life. I wasn't even sure that I wanted to lose my virginity until about the end of freshman year. Once I was sure that I wanted to lose it, it became a race against time. I was the only person in the whole world who had never had sex. I was missing out. This made me anxious, which of course made it impossible to lose it. I was trying to run before I could even walk, I was so far behind - I was worried about losing the v-card before I had ever even kissed a girl (first time: age twenty).

I tried to console myself by remembering that a lot of it wasn't 'my fault', but that didn't help much. Sometimes I was so down on myself - here were the greatest years of my life, slipping away before my eyes. I would die having wasted so much irreplaceable time. I was frantic. I sometimes even felt so frustrated and bitter that I questioned whether life was even worth continuing without something as basic as sex.

But I was also losing weight quickly, finally getting my act together socially, and making all sorts of small changes all the time. I was making progress, but it still couldn't come fast enough. I had a handful of 'close calls' but at the last minute someone would interfere and ruin it for me; also I was so afraid of screwing up such a rare opportunity that I of course screwed it up. Trying to lose my virginity was getting in the way of trying to lose my virginity.

‘Dude, just get a hooker’ a friend of mine called Tyler suggested.

‘What the hell are you talking about!? Some disease-ridden whore who I'd have to pay money for? What kind of loser do you take me for?’

Tyler was about to completely change my perception on prostitution.

‘Now hey - everyone has to pay for it. Think about it. You can spend hundreds of dollars on gifts and dinners on a girl, with no guarantee that you're gonna get laid, or you can spend a set amount of money with a guarantee. And hookers have to stay clean, otherwise they'd be out of a job.’

‘But it's... I dunno, there's no honor in that.’

‘You think it's 'honorable' to hook up with a drunk girl at a party? She's more likely to have an STD than a professional is, and if you mess up, what if she goes and tells all her friends how awkward it was? What if you knock her up? Paying for sex isn't degrading - if anything it's degrading to the person being paid. It's liberating to get rid of all the bullshit and stupid games people play and just have sex. It's just 'animal sex', not lovemaking, but at least with a hooker it's honest and straightforward unlike a lot of the 'dating' we see around here.’

The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. Losing it to a hooker wasn't ideal - I would have liked to have found a girlfriend - but I also realized I couldn't do it at the time. Prostitution was, when I was completely honest with myself, better than the usual drunken hookup that I observed at my university. So it was either pay for alcohol and hope to get laid, or pay a sex worker and be done with it.

I found out that some of history's greatest womanizers and powerful men - Kennedy, Gabrielle D'Annunzio, Napoleon Bonaparte (and in the original novels, even James Bond) - as well as several others had lost their virginity to prostitutes. I also found out that in some societies it has been (and in a few still is) customary for young men to lose it this way.

One thing led to another and before I knew it, I had bought a plane ticket and two nights in a nice hotel in Canada.

I had set up an appointment before leaving with an independent escort, but as I waited for her to arrive (nervously), she was late. After an hour had passed, I went and checked my email - she had had a family emergency and was unable to come that day, and wouldn't be working again until after I left. Damn.

I was nervous, terrified even. I went and took a long walk. I even thought about calling it off. But no, I would never be able to look Tyler in the face again if I backed out now. I had told my friends (the few who knew I was still a virgin) that I was going to lose it, I had told myself that it would be before the year's end (and I lost it with less than a month to go - but it's a New Year's resolution I'm glad I kept!), and I had put too much time and money into it.

I thought about what to do. After a few hours, I went to the phone book and looked up the name of an agency I had heard of before leaving. I called them up and explained my 'first-timer status' in the ambiguous terms Canadian law requires. ‘That's fine Sweety, I've got a few girls I think would be perfect’. After some discussion, a time was set and I took a shower. My virginity was about to be done away with forever. I was nervous, but the understanding tone of the woman on the phone made me feel better. ‘That's why a lot of these girls do what they do’ she said.

I got a call a while later telling me to go down to the lobby. She was blonde, wearing a black dress and carrying a bag. I went down and found her. She looked like a businesswoman almost, very classy. A little older than me, as I had requested. She was not trashy or wearing too much makeup, not drawing attention to herself, just a normal, pretty girl who happened to make a living by having sex.

We went up to my room and we started by having a drink together (her suggestion). ‘You'd be surprised at some of the people I see - I view myself almost like a therapist’ she explained. She and I talked and she put me at ease; she listened to me and catered to me perfectly.

I was in just my pajama pants at this point, stomach-down on my bed, and she straddled me and got some lotion on my back. After a few minutes, she got up and stood in front of me and said ‘Every woman is a little insecure about her appearance, even me. I still feel a little weird sometimes with men watching me strip’. And so she did.

All the reader needs to know is that she managed to make it (relatively) smooth and natural. She may not even have been enjoying herself, but if not, she did a damn good job pretending. She was all about making the client happy.

I got a sampler of all kinds of different things. She told me what to do, guided the whole thing. I was able to joke around with this girl and she made it feel like the natural, enjoyable thing it should be. I went into it extremely nervous but felt much better after a few minutes with her - and by the end I felt great.

When she left I had a big smile on my face, but I was surprised by how unglamorous and non-dramatic it was. Sex became something good, but not a life-and-death issue as it had been before. It became just another part of life, thrilling but not the most thrilling thing in the world. The mystery behind it was gone - sliding my fingers into a woman, feeling her different fleshy areas, having her ride me, touching and seeing every part of her body didn't feel so strange or mysterious. Still highly enjoyable, but I noticed that it was purely physical - as it should have been and as I had expected. The feelings I had had in the past, spending time with girls I felt affection for as people or a strong desire for, had been more intense in some ways, more intoxicating.

I realized how, even though people glorify and idolize sex, it is an overrated good thing. Most good things are overrated I guess - sex is no exception. The people who brag about it or take the bragging tone when they talk about it are usually compensating for something (not that I am entirely innocent in this department; I've had my immature moments).

I actually had some bad experiences - two independent escorts that I had lined up didn't work out (the one had had a family emergency, the other just didn't pick up her phone when I called to confirm), and the second one I hired wasn't very good. She wore too much makeup, and you could tell her heart wasn't in it. She was very 'pay me, fuck me and I'm on my way' without any regard to doing it right. There is an art to sex; a girl who leaves her chewing gum in the condom wrapper on your desk is not a very good artist.

But even this taught me something - after getting over the awkwardness, I was glad I didn't have to see her ever again, I could distinguish a little better between good and bad sex, and I knew that it was okay to be a little more choosy about who I sleep with in the future. If that girl had been someone I knew personally, it would have been far worse. I was glad I had gotten my first 'bad sex' out of the way with a woman I didn't need to worry about. It's perfectly okay to turn down or pass up a hot girl who's a pain in the ass as far as personality goes - looks aren't everything. This second one had some better physical features but a horrible personality; it turned out that feeling and technique is a more important part of sex than I thought.

I still get annoyed when I see an immature and maybe slightly effeminate guy, fresh out of high school, with a stunning girl. But the bitterness is mostly gone; in the back of my mind I know she may well be no better than jacking off. She may be worse. She may be great, but who knows and who cares? Sex is not such a big deal after all - but of course you can't know that until after you've had it.

Before I did this, people told me sex wasn't a big deal. But until I experienced it for myself, it was annoying - sometimes infuriating - to have people try to preach to me.

‘Dude, sex is no big deal, just relax. It'll come one day.’ It was irritating to have people talk and not listen, to ignore my needs, to pretend to understand when they had no idea what I was going through.

They tried to persuade me with reason and arguments, but - as a few exceptional friends like Tyler knew and understood - only when I experienced it for myself could I know this.

It's important to have a couple of friends you can trust with this; it's important to honestly not feel ashamed about it; and be ready for some awkward moments - but remember, they're only really awkward if you can't laugh about them. Have a good sense of humor about it, and enjoy the feeling of having your first 'sex stories' for those times when the guys get together.

I'm glad I lost it on my own terms at a time and place of my choosing instead of leaving it to chance. No awkward conversations or 'I have to see this person every day in class', no major risk of being backstabbed, no risk of being cheated on, minimal emotional vulnerability. In retrospect, I'm confident it was the right decision.’

3 guys, 3 stories, 1 week.....

Way back in the day when all this began, I was itching to get this story for my book. Seeing as it seemed pretty unlikely that I would ever find a woman who had lost her virginity to a prostitute, (I live in hope), I turned to the male of the species instead. There must be a man out there somewhere who had done this deed – and was prepared to talk to me about it.

I searched high and low. I made bizarre phone calls to male friends in the dead of the night. Even if one of them hadn’t actually done it themselves, one of their friends might have. Not that I have an issue with this mind. I must make this clear. Having spent three years interviewing people face to face about the loss of virginity and another two communicating with all sorts of people via this blog - frequently male virgins who are desperate to lose their virginity - I could never begrudge someone the opportunity to avail themselves of virginity in this manner.

You’ll soon see why when you read some of the stories I am going to publish this week. The cloak of virginity is a bloody hard thing to wear in this day and age. Sex is everywhere and you could be fooled into thinking that absolutely everyone is doing it at every available opportunity – except you.

Of course, I know the truth. So many times during the course of my book interviews, I have got the feeling that people have agreed to talk to me, not just because they want to tell me about virginity loss, but also because they want to plump me for information about other people’s sex lives. They want to know that what other people think and feel is in line with their own activities. They need to know that they are normal. This sort of anxiety does not end with the loss of virginity. We all want to know that what we do is just as good as what everyone else does.

To this end, young men everywhere are desperate to find out what the big deal is all about. In the words of one of my correspondents this week, they feel like ‘outcasts’, or even ‘non-members of society’. And as one of this weeks stories will explain, it doesn’t matter how many times you tell someone to chill out, not to worry, that sex isn’t that much of a big deal…..it’s very easy to say that when you have had sex and they haven’t.

Which is all a way of telling you that last week I received not one story from a young man who had lost his virginity to a sex worker, but three. Three in a week. That’s unprecedented. Three stories from three very different people, so I will start with the (very) short one today, the longest one later in the week and the saddest last – because I want the sad guy to read the other two people’s stories and see if it will cheer him up.

Today’s correspondent titled his story ‘My Blonde Ambition’.

Dear Kate,

I am Ben, born on 3 April 1990. I'm originally from Malaysia and now living in Great Britain for over eight years. I am a student with Asperger's syndrome.

Not until the 8 December, I had never had a girlfriend, never kissed a woman, never dated a woman and never been close to having sex.

That's because of my Asperger's Syndrome and having difficulties with my social skills.

Just few weeks before the 8th December, I considered booking an escort to lose my virginity and gain confidence with women before I go to college in September.

I used to pleasure myself by reading adult magazines, watching adult movies and looking at pictures of blonde women.

On that day, I met a 34-year-old blonde woman called Diana. I won't go to the details but my first sexual encounter was great and I feel fulfilled sexually. It was better than my imagination because I touched her intimate parts and she touched me in return and it was great.

Therefore, I advise desperate people like me to follow suit for a memorable sexual experience and I am happy that I am no longer a virgin anymore.

I will see two or four more blonde escorts in the future so I can gain experience and confidence before I get my new girlfriend.

I will never forget Diana for the rest of my life

Yours sincerely,

Ben, 18 years old from Great Britain

Be VERY prepared....

Firstly, I would like to draw your attention back to Adrian’s blog. Not just because I love it, but also because I am itching to do something similar with The Virginity Project. Can you imagine a better way to get to the heart of a country than by travelling its length and breadth and asking its inhabitants to tell you about an experience that transcends age, era and cultural background? It doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from, the one thing that I can guarantee is that every single person you ever encounter has an interesting story to tell you about virginity loss. Even the ones who say ‘Oh my story’s not that interesting’. In fact, especially the ones who tell you their story isn't that interesting. They are usually the ones with the tales that'll make you blush.

Needless to say, The Virginity Project lies in bed every night, clutching a map of America to its breast and dreaming of fulfilling its deepest desire to interview the great and the good, (and possibly even the bad) of America. I have one taker already. The fabulous Susie Bright has invited me to step off the train at San Jose and interview her about her own experience, so who knows, my dream may yet come true.

Speaking of culture - and Adrian - who is cycling across America and playing Scrabble with the people that he meets, I keep meaning to write and tell him about the gaff he keeps making. He refers to his Scrabble playing meetings as ‘hooking up’. Adrian, hooking up doesn’t mean quite the same thing in America and unless you want to add a much more interesting (and, in my opinion, challenging) element to the games of Scrabble that you are playing, you might want to rethink your terminology.

Secondly, I heart this story. At times, being British can feel like a fag (there's another word that’s always worth misunderstanding). Until you read stuff like this that is. It’s a story about boy scouts being taught sex education as part of the scouting curricular. I love the fact that certain factions of the ‘establishment’ are open minded enough to say what they really think and get with the program. Because the fact is that boys of this age are thinking about having sex. They might not actually be doing it but you can bet your bottom dollar that they are at least planning to try at the earliest opportunity. The least we can do is to help them ‘be prepared’. Sorry, crappy joke that had to be made. 

Predictably, The Telegraph chose to quote the director of the Christian Voice campaign group in response to this story.

"They should be encouraging young people in their care to have respect for girls and live a life of chastity and fidelity," said Stephen Green, national director of the Christian Voice campaign group.

Once again, I am staggered at how much people feel the need to disable young people by not telling them the facts about sex. And just to give you an idea of what a boy scout is capable of if he really puts his mind to it, I posted the following conversation on this very blog last year:

'It went something like this….

Creative guy: Are you here next week?

Me: No.

Creative guy: What are you doing?

Me: My own work.

Creative guy: What’s that then?

I explain what I do with the rest of my life.

Him: Uh, really? God, you should hear the story about how my kid brother got rid of his virginity…

Me: Oh yes, how’s that then?

Creative guy:  He went on a scout trip to Holland and lost his virginity to a prostitute.

Me: Excuse me?

Creative guy: Yes, he was thirteen and he lost his virginity to a prostitute on a scout camp trip……..’

I rest my case. The fact of the matter is that young people will have sex whether we tell them to or not so we may as well arm them with as much information – and contraception  – as possible. Like we ever listened to a word our parents ever said when they told us not to do stuff? And like it’s really any different now? I don’t think so.

In-to-me-see

This story touches a tender spot in my heart and I’ll tell you why. Aaron makes the same mistake that many of us do - I include myself in this group - of confusing two quite critical components in our lives: intimacy and sex. We think that they are one and the same. Newsflash for the younger generation and any older ones lagging behind: they are most definitely not.
I used to think that intimacy meant having sex, albeit quite a long time ago. Which was probably why I often considered my first time a load of rubbish. But with time and the ability to articulate myself, I can see what the problem was. It lacked intimacy. Handsome he may have been, French and sexy, he certainly was, but I hardly knew him and I was too proud to tell him that I was still a virgin. Unsurprisingly, this did not make for an ‘intimate’ (or even fun) experience.
True intimacy requires us to step out of our comfort zones and be honest about what, and who we are, which in Aaron’s case, is totally petrified. No, seriously, I am not suggesting that you tell your partner that you crap yourself every time they get within ten yards of you, choose your words a little more carefully than that, but honesty is very endearing. If you can find it in yourself to step out of the comfort zone and come clean so to speak, you might find yourself surprised by the results.
From a random straw poll conducted amongst girlfriends, ‘relieved’ was the most common answer I got when I asked them how they would have felt, had one of the teenage horn-bags they had encountered back in the day ever admitted that they were actually quite scared about what was going to happen next. Being honest breaks the ice and ultimately it brings us closer together. If Aaron can find it in himself to be honest, I think he might find the real deal: bona fide intimacy.
Aaron. Age 18.
‘I’m sure you must get a billion stories like this, but I need to write this for myself just as much as I want to send it to you. Hopefully, we will both learn a little :]
My name is Aaron, an 18-year old virgin fresh into college in Texas. It took me until right now to figure out that I really look forward to sex, but at the same time, I am terrified by it. Of course I’m a college male and I automatically have urges, but I’m so scared of being vulnerable before someone.
I was raised in a Christian community (reading your site, there seems to be a lot who find problems from this) and have always promised abstinence till marriage. More than anything though, I look forward to the emotional side of sex: I want to feel fundamentally connected to someone in a beautiful way. I want to love, and learn to love, and I don’t know if sex is a part of that process, a reward for achieving it, or some only slightly related event. 
About a month ago, an ex-girlfriend and I agreed to a ‘friends-with-benefits’ relationship which was horrible! Some part of me really disagreed with the whole idea of it but I was kinda pissed off at life so I took what good feeling I could get. We ended up slyly messing around in my bed while my roommate was on his computer, oblivious. A few minutes into it, I was lying next to her and she stuck her hand down my pants and grabbed me. It was the first time anyone has ever really touched me there, and for a minute I was almost breaking down inside.
I felt empty. I was simply lying face down beside her, her hand casually slipped down the front of my jeans, and I couldn’t move. It was as if she had ripped off the protective layers of my soul and I was bare before her. I felt humiliated to myself, and the feeling of pure vulnerability began to drown me. I hated it, oh god, I hated it, and for a while I hated her. I hated being exposed and open to the world and to myself, and at that moment I felt purely pathetic and I couldn’t move a muscle, I just lay there and shook a little to myself with her hand firmly attached. The next day I informed her that I just couldn’t handle being around her for a little while, and we didn’t talk or hang out for two weeks or so.
So now I know I have a problem of sorts, I truly want to love and be loved, whether sex is a part of that or not, but I am now even more terrified of being vulnerable before someone, especially after somewhat experiencing it.
Now, weeks after my little incident with said ex-girlfriend, I am starting to date a beautiful young lady here at school and we have already begun to get a little physical with each other. But really, if it ever came to deciding whether or not to have sex, or even just to let her touch me intimately, I might be too frightened to consider. I know though, that after our making out sessions are drawing to an end and we just lay in each other’s arms, I really want to get closer to her and sex may be something we eventually consider. I know that only I will know when I’m ready for sex, but is there a way to combat the feelings I experienced in my little episode mentioned earlier? I want to learn to love, but I don’t know if sex is necessarily a part of that. It seems I’m just a college boy full of questions. Who would’ve thought?  Lol.’
* All names changed to protect identity.

Touched for the very first time?

In November 2006, I got in my car and drove 350 miles to do an interview for my book. I knew it was going to be worth it because my interviewee came highly recommended.  It wasn’t just that sixty-one year old Diane is a teacher of Tantric sex and unsurprisingly, a woman with an interesting perspective on all things sexual, but also that she said something about virginity loss that stopped me in my tracks. I pressed her several times for her own definition of this unique event. Right at the end of the interview she unexpectedly dropped this gem into my lap:

‘I think that losing your virginity should be a gateway into pleasure, a gateway into something very innocent and beautiful.  It should be about moving from ignorance to awareness, to becoming totally sexually self contained, to being a person who makes love or becomes intimate because they choose to, and not because they have to. Of course that could come years after you technically lost virginity. And for some people, maybe never.’

Holy smoke. Rarely have I found an opinion so contrary to the tired old patriarchal definitions that we still trot out, even today. As women, the maintenance of our virginity has frequently been of more interest to others than it has been to us. There are reasons for this that go right back to the beginning of time, many of which are now immaterial - literally.

Previous generation’s worries about virginity were mainly concerned with property. No sooner than man had grasped the concept of owning ‘stuff’ - homes, vehicles, animals, whatever, then he began to worry about his heirs. Where would it all go when he died? How could he guarantee that his hard earned cash would stay in the family? For this reason, a virgin daughter was a far safer bet than a son. If she was a virgin when she married then a man could guarantee that his own blood would inherit his spoils. Simple eh?

Fast forward how ever many years and everything is different. Virginity loss still lurks in some very dark corners, and for very different reasons. But for those of us who lead a secular life, the preservation of a woman’s virginity is not the big deal it once was. Now, perhaps we can come up with some new definitions, re-write the rulebook if you like.

Hilary does that with bells on. And so does my following contributor, nineteen-year-old Jay:

‘Hi there,

I don't normally do this kind of thing, but I wanted to contribute my story. I'm a sexually active nineteen-year-old woman, and I think of myself as a virgin.

Back before I began having sex, I used to hate the term and its connections to old-fashioned notions of property. I still despise the notion of virginity as some sacred thing to be kept until a perfect heterosexual marriage, and something that is only lost through vaginal intercourse. I think that's shallow, and denies the various and complicated means of human sexual expression.

My first time was with my current boyfriend, and it was funny and scary and sweet and a little bit painful. But it didn't change me fundamentally as a person; I didn't feel different when I woke up next to him that morning.

What's changed me is the fact of the physical relationship itself. Over the four months that I have been having sex, I have changed subtly, grown into myself more. It's been hard - I was raised with somewhat Puritanical parents, and I was born with a heart condition which has resulted in a lot of surgical scarring on my body. Initially, the very idea of being seen naked or having to communicate my desires was terrifying. I count myself as a feminist and an independent, strong-willed woman, so this apparent weakness in myself surprised and appalled me.

With my boyfriend's support and my own bravery, I have become more open and accepting of myself. I've become better at communicating my needs, better at feeling good naked, better at anticipating and listening to my lover's needs and desires. It's been a process, not a watershed moment, and I am still growing and changing and learning to embrace myself and my sexuality.

A few months ago, I came across a single sentence that both rocked my worldview and spoke to something latent inside me. It was this: according to some Greek translations, the word virgin means ‘one unto herself.’ Here was virginity not as an arbitrarily defined sexual status, but a way of being - an ownership and wholeness of self that was incontrovertible.

This was a definition of virginity I could understand and relate to, and a definition that has become more meaningful to me as I explore and grow into my sexuality. My virginity isn't something I've lost, but something I've gained—and no matter what happens, no matter who I have sex with in the future, I'm never giving it up.

J

 

Power to the people...

On Tuesday, we heard about Darcy's dilemma. Today, the people talk back!

First up is Ted, the sixty-year-old owner of a story that I posted on October 21st last year. I don't mind admitting that there are times when I think Ted lives between the fictional pages of a Mills and Boon novel, such is his attachment to an old fashioned approach to 'married love'. But despite this affliction, Mr T can always be relied upon for a well thought out and brilliantly written response. What I particularly like about his reply today is his rather brilliant shopping analogy. Turns out, sex and shopping are related after all….

'Darcy, I am something of an authority on virginity and the associated Christian guilt-complex in that I was a virgin for a VERY long time. But the more I think about the topic of virginity, the less qualified I feel to speak!  There is so much I realize that I do not know. Nonetheless, here are a few reflections, and a plea, following your piece.

Plea first:  do not think yourself into a 'no win' situation in your understandable concerns about the end of your virgin state.  Rather, try to think yourself into a 'no lose' frame of mind.  I don't mean, ' no lose virginity'. I see this as your 'property' to control as YOU wish and change, when you, and only you, want to.  Think of it like this:

Imagine that someone gave you the gift of a sum of money, and you went out looking around stores and saw lots of quite tempting things on display for sale...yet, tempting as these items may have been, there was nothing that seemed 'just right', nothing that you would have been completely happy at parting with your money in order that you might own it.  On returning home, you might have a pang of sadness that you did not have a tangible object in your arms, and feel 'left out' when you saw your friends proudly clutching things, but you would still, I should think, feel a secret glow of knowledge that you had retained your full 'purchasing power' for possible use at a future date when a range of even more attractive produce might be on offer. 

It might also be worth remembering the comment of the pianist Liberace, who, when asked if the taunts of critics upset him, replied:  'I cry all the way to the bank!'

Well said, Ted.

Next up is my blogging friend DJ Kirkby. DJ does more than just blog. She is a midwife and as such, the owner of some practical advice for the aspiring non-virgin. I know I said this wasn't about me but I have pulled her last point up front and made it the first point. I think it’s the most important one:

 

 'My thoughts after reading Darcy's letter:

 8) Life is written in pencil, nothing so wrong that it cannot be remedied in at least a small measure and nothing so gloriously perfect that it cannot be improved upon.

1) She is an amazing person, very brave and strong even if she may not believe this about herself.

 2) She is not ready to have sex/make love yet. We all mature sexually at different times and all have to meet the right guy to turn our 'sexy' switch on, even if it is just someone we do not know on an intimate level.  It could be someone we see regularly like a teacher or a friend. It does not have to be the guy that she actually has sex with the first time, but she should wait until she feels that all-important urge of a sexual nature.  

3) For some people this never happens at all and they choose to embrace a life of celibacy, there are many websites with forums for like-minded people on this topic.

 4) She may bleed a bit, but if both her and they guy are expecting it, it shouldn't be an issue. Have some baby wipes close by.

 5) Do not be ashamed to use lubricant for your first or even subsequent times, the wetter the better and more comfortable making love will be.

 6) The position that Darcy should use the first time or anytime she makes love with someone is whatever position they end up in, these things are better if not planned out to the nth degree.

 7) If she has sex with a man she later finds out has betrayed her or was not the one she considered to be the 'one', she will recover from this, even though she does not believe she can'.

Short and to the point. Thank you DJ. Last up is Sophie.  I interviewed her for my book last year. At twenty-three years old, she may be the baby of our panel, but that doesn’t make her any less qualified to have an opinion. Here we go:  

‘Hi Darcy

Well, I think the first thing that comes to mind is that everything you've said is extremely normal. I've had the same background as you - no abuse, no bullying - but that doesn't mean that you or I aren't allowed to be scared!

My current boyfriend comes from a Catholic background, so I completely relate to the pressure that puts on you. We're open in all parts of our relationship but it’s taken a long time of talking and patience to deal with some of his 'religion-related' issues.

It's a difficult toss up (excuse the pun) as we're born into a modern society and our lives reflect this - yet we are still entrenched in a very traditional way of thinking. There's nothing wrong with that, but it’s something to keep in mind. Don't put too much pressure on yourself to live by these sets of rules; getting the right balance isn’t easy.

As for the deed itself, four months is a good amount of time to be with someone - but its still not that long. If you think that doing something will create feelings of regret - chances are your instincts are right and it just not worth pushing yourself.

Unfortunately, I can't say whether your boyfriend is or isn't serious about you, but a four month relationship says to me that it’s not purely sexually driven. Ask yourself if he's pressuring you to do it and that will give you a better answer than I can.

I can tell you though that my first time was a very good experience, I had been with my boyfriend for about the same time as you. We hadn't discussed it or planned it - it just happened. I didn't bleed (probably because I'd been very sporty in my early teens), and it didn't hurt. I think that negative experiences are usually more memorable, and are often over-exaggerated.

I think that taking advice from friends is a fantastic thing, but remember that they too are in the same position as you. I'd really hate to be thought of as condescending, but I certainly didn't know enough about sex at seventeen to be giving sound advice. Also, being on top doesn't make a whole lot of difference from a pain perspective, but as you grow to enjoy sex, it makes it more pleasurable.

 It's a bit of a cliché - but when things are right for you, you'll know it and you wont feel so uncertain. I'd suggest waiting a little longer until things become clearer.’

Darcy, I hope my contributors have helped you to make a tricky decision  a little easier and on that note, 'The Virginity Project' is planning a little ‘self help’ of another kind. I am off for some serious R&R on the sunny isle of Mallorca. See you in a week or two, adios amigos!

Its not all about me...

Today I shall turn the reigns of power over to you, the readers of and contributors to ‘The Virginity Project. In short, I got bored of the sound of my own voice so I decided to let someone else do the talking. Power to the people and all that. I'm not the only one with an opinion. To this end, I sent the following story to some of the people I am lucky enough to correspond with. It'll be interesting to see how they reply to Darcy's dilemma.

Story today. My panelists and their replies tomorrow:

'Dear Kate

My name is Darcy and I was born in 1991. Virginity Loss: TBC.

I recently found The Virginity Project and it's actually boosted my confidence considerably. I'm still a virgin and feel a bit of a freak if I’m honest. I've never been bullied or sexually abused or anything like that so I don't see why I have the feelings I do about sex.

I think, deep down, it may have something to do with my religion. I was raised as a relatively strict catholic, so I feel very guilty when I even think about sex. I have never even...er...’self-helped’...and if my boyfriend does anything like that for me then I don't particularly feel any kind of sensation - mental or physical, apart from ‘oh...this is happening’.

The actual idea of sex doesn't scare me. I think I probably would have sex with my boyfriend (of four months) if he asked me, because it may make him happy and I wouldn't feel like I've missed out on a teenage milestone. I just don't know how I'd deal with the guilty feelings, and if everything went wrong, the feelings of regret.

I think the way I end up loosing my virginity will matter immensely for all my future relationships and my future thoughts on men because I've only ever had two boyfriends before. I've also been researching around the topic to try and get some answers to my problems and what I decipher thus far is this: women are told they will get nothing from their first time apart from pain or possibly pregnancy. They are told they will bleed and that the boy will probably freak out if he's bled on and then they will be labeled a 'slut’, so nothing really fills me with confidence.

I had a conversation recently too with a friend of mine, and she said that for a first time it is advisable ‘for the girl to be on top because then she can control what happens. Missionary is just plain painful’ but I don't think I'd have the confidence to go ‘on top’, so I'd just have to deal with whatever pain comes my way (And I don't really fancy bleeding on anyone!)

If you haven't got bored of me ranting about my status, then thank you for reading this far. It's nice to be able to write all my 'V-thoughts' and rants down and tell someone how I'm feeling about it because I really don't know what to do. And if I talk to anyone properly about it then they could just say I'm making a big deal out of nothing. It's nice to know you're not alone with these things.

 Thanks again,

Darcy x'

Sunday service…..

This story speaks for itself. Its owner wrote me last summer to tell me about her search for love and companionship, a search that her family thought she shouldn’t make due to her sexuality. Luckily, Sadie* is a pioneer. I don’t suppose there are too many daughters of Christian Evangelist preachers who are prepared to go against the grain and stake the claim over the life they instinctively feel they should have.

Which brings me to my next point. Lately this blog seems to have morphed into a one-woman mission to insist on the most basic of human rights. I can’t help it. Instinct should triumph over dogma. Marriage or not, gay or not, whatever or not, we cannot deny ourselves the most basic of needs. A sex life has to begin somewhere and that usually begins with the loss of virginity. Read on…

 Sadie. Born 1973. Lost virginity aged 35.

‘Hi Kate

I'm back again....finally with the rest of the story.

First of all a poem was what started some of this for me. It was the thought: ‘If I died today, what would I have most regretted I didn't do?’ And for me it started with kissing. I didn't want to die having never kissed someone. And then it progressed to ‘I don’t want to die having never been loved physically like that’.

As you know from my earlier story, I had no interest in sex with men because I'm gay. For years I wasn't able to seek out relationships with women because of my religious beliefs and because I kept trying to heal myself i.e. not like girls.

About two years ago I asked my counselor if he thought I was healthy in general and he said ‘yes’. I had been in counseling for years and I suddenly decided I was wasting my life trying to fix something that wasn't fixable. I finally started to accept myself and my love of women as something that just was.

The result of this is that I started dating for the first time in my life. I went out on dates or ‘friendship outings’ as I like to call them because a lot of these were just ‘get to know you’ events. I got to know myself a bit as well. I developed more confidence that someone would actually want to date me.

To skip ahead, a couple of months ago I met someone who I wanted much more than just a friendship date with. I was looking for someone who had a lot of the same religious things in common as me. We are both Christians, I can go to church and hold her hand, God and gratefulness is important to us both. Both of us would only like to be intimate in a committed relationship so soon we were dating.

I am still stunned that I lost my virginity. You asked ‘how does a lesbian lose her virginity?’ I think it's the first time you are fully naked and physical with someone. I asked my girlfriend and she said it's both oral sex and any type of penetration.

My strongest thoughts afterwards were: The church/Christians have totally lied to me. The church has made sex sound like crack. Something so powerful that you will be addicted. Something that is evil and then magically becomes good the moment a priest says something over you like ‘your married’. That is all a lie and I think it does a disservice to tell people or even hint at these things.

Sex and intimacy was sweet and playful. It was lovely. We were gentle and fun with each other. We talked a ton about it before. We talked about the areas of our bodies we felt insecure about. We talked about what we wanted and hoped for. What we had heard. And then we also talked during and after just checking in on how emotions and all were doing. It was really helpful and healing for me to talk like this. And she was so sweet. We are well matched sexually because we both have similar wants.

People told me I'd be scared, I wasn't. People told me they shook. I didn't. I had thought through this decision so much that I think when the time came I was just fully ready. I learned that I am an Aries lover. This is something I totally didn't know about myself until this. I thought all that stuff was junk. She said she was surprised I was a virgin because I didn't act like it. But I think the reason why is found in a poem by E.E. Cummings that says ‘the body has an intelligence of it's own.’ I did not need to train it. It knew what to do.

Our relationship is still going great. I do not feel any different. I do not feel guilt. I do get in some way why it was a great thing for me to have sex in a committed relationship. I think when I was younger I would have had some self-judgment due to the religious voices I'd heard through growing up. But here's the thing. Those same religious voices won't let me get married because I'm gay. So the best I can do right now in seeking to live the life I want is by keeping sex in a committed monogamous relationship.

I know I'm a rare breed. I was a virgin until just before my thirty-fifth birthday in order to figure this out. The decision to have a more spacious and wholistic understanding of sex than the church’s literal and confining view took me a long time.

The church has made being anti-sex it's own God. The church, especially the evangelical church in America judges the body as evil. It may not say this outright but it does come through. I think I've heard more about the evils of sexual temptation than any other topic. But in the end, sex for me was nothing to do with temptation. It was a choice to live instead of kill everything in me that was embodied.

Besides this, I have told three very open and accepting friends and it will stop there. But in needing to tell someone about all my years of working towards this and all the crap I had to figure out for myself, I wanted to tell my story somewhere. If I ever told my story in a Christian community I would be soundly renounced. I get that. But you know that just keeps the fear and lies about sex in play. 

One more thought. I am so glad I didn't force myself to date, marry and have sex with a man. I know another girl who did that. She has to drink alcohol to have sex with her husband. She stayed a virgin until she was married. And now she is basically stuck. I definitely am glad I didn't do the same as her just to ‘look good’ for the church.

 *Name changed to protect identity. Part one of ‘Sadie’s’ story was published on September 10 last year.