To the woman who wrote “Dear Girl Who Waited And Wishes She Didn’t”
(NSM note: TRIGGER WARNING for mention of rape)
Admittedly, I mostly scanned through your article because my eyes start rolling back in my head when you refer to your virginity as the most precious part of yourself. What the actual fuck?
By this logic, you must give this most precious and special part of yourself away to your husband to honor him? Which leaves you now without it? Lady, you are the same person with or without your hymen.
I was raised Catholic, and it was presumed in my house I would remain a virgin until marriage. I didn’t. I regret nothing. I lost my virginity at 15, with my first boyfriend after 9 months of dating. I loved him and he loved me. But more importantly, when we were in the backseat of his parents van, I wanted sex. I was aroused, I was comfortable, I was ready. We were each others first and when we broke up I was devastated. How much sex had to do with my heartbreak, I’ll never know. But our young love was sweet and today, happily married to a man who has had sex with other women before he met me, I’m glad I had sex with my first love.
When I was 18, I was raped walking home from a bar. I was underage (I’m Canadian so not by much), I was drunk and I was wearing a skirt. My Christian background told me this was basically consent, despite my being unconscious. My rapist was my second sexual experience. He took so much from me, my reckless fun loving self. I was a girl who loved to laugh, who loved to dance, who loved to dress up and turn heads and I fell deep into depression and anxiety.
I met a boy in college, a virgin. A nice Christian boy who offered to love my despite my tarnish. That relationship lasted 3 years and left me as a shell of myself. Terrorized and isolated. Ashamed. My anxiety became so bad that I stopped leaving the house. I saw a therapist and she warned me that I was in danger. The shouting became pushing, the pushing became pinching the soft skin on the insides of my arms.
One night, in the middle of a public fight at a local bar he grabbed me by the arm and someone punched him in the face. There he was, my first love. We started talking again, I broke it off with my boyfriend. He threatened to kill himself but this time (not my first try in ending the relationship) I didn’t look back.
I started having sex again with my high school sweetheart. We were not meant to be, but he made me feel happy again, feel in charge of my own body. We love each other but he was not my mate. Those few months with him helped me to rebuilt my sense of self, my confidence, my spark. To feel it was ok to have sex because I desired it, in a relationship where I felt safe and appreciated. Even in our love was not the romantic sort. We remain close to this day and are in loving relationships with other people.
At 22, I’d never had a one night stand and I decided that I wanted one. I was in a good place emotionally, finishing college and beginning a new chapter of my life. In a local bar after a wedding reception, I saw a guy who I was attracted to more than I’d ever been to anyone. I gave him my number, he drove me home and I invited him in. His touch was like fire to me, I’d never wanted anyone so much. But something inside me told me to wait, and I did. I waited two weeks and five dates before we had sex. We’d talked about it first, but he asked me if I was sure once more despite being naked and tangled with each other.
We celebrated the first year of our marriage this past August. Our daughter will be two in November. I will never tell her that her virginity makes her special. She is special and as her sexuality develops, I hope she embraces it without shame. When we talk about sex, I will encourage her to make sure she is safe and feels empowered and respected. I hope her relationship with herself is healthy because I believe that is the key to a healthy relationship with another person. I love my husband with my whole heart, but I will always be glad I had sex with my High School sweetheart.