In a few short months, I will be 25 years old. I will celebrate the beginning of my quarter-life crisis the same way I celebrate every April 23, by having dinner with my family and getting drunk with my friends. What else would you expect a gal in her twenties to do in a town known for its freezing weather and notorious binge drinking?
For most people, 25 signifies the beginning of adulthood. Getting your act together, inquiring about the 401k you have been putting off for years, making excuses to your extended relatives as to why you haven’t started a family, and getting all your cavities filled while you are still on your parents insurance.
For me, though, it isn’t the number of years that I have been alive that signifies my welcome into adulthood, but rather the number of years that I have been sexually active, which is currently zero. I suppose that might officially make me the oldest virgin in town. Although, if you were to ask me, I would tell you that I technically lost my virginity at age 6 when I slipped while balancing on a fire hydrant outside of my cousin’s house during a family reunion.
Stigmas Attached to Virginity
The reaction I get from new friends and/or co-workers upon revealing my virgin status is a mix of emotions. Some of them are completely baffled; I think this is because of my obsession with sex. I frequently talk about it, inquire about it, and even give pep talks on why it’s okay to have it. The other type of reaction I receive is one of pity, as if I was just turned down for a major organ transplant, or I got a bad ACT score. “Oh, hun, it’s alright. It will happen for you one day.”
Apparently you used to be considered “cool” if you took someone’s virginity. We were a rare, sought after breed; a collector’s item. Similarly to chain wallets, Livestrong bracelets, and wearing tie’s as belts, however, sleeping with a virgin has become an embarrassing trend. How is it possible that we attached a stigma to such an event as losing one’s virginity? Perhaps it is because of the stereotypes that we as a society have come to associate with the non-sexually active, such as: clingy, tease, and prude.
However, these names are only associated with women that are virgins. Take, for example, the romantic scene between Jason Biggs and the warm apple pie. Male virgins are adorkable and easy to love. They are Michael Cera in “Superbad," and Jesse Eisenberg in “Adventureland”. Female virgins are depicted in a completely different kind of light (picture Emma Stone in “Easy A” or Reese Witherspoon in “Cruel Intentions”).
Prude-shaming has somehow leaked its way into our society, and as a fortunate result, slut-shaming is definitely on the decline. Rightly so, consenting adults should absolutely be able to do whatever they please with their bodies, whenever they please, with whoever they please. I’m a firm believer in the “go get yours” ideology. I just haven’t gone to “get mine”, yet.
In middle school, instead of being taught the importance of safe sex, we were taught to fear the wrath from God if we were to ever participate in such a sinful act as fornication. (Catholic Schools… am I right?) And so throughout my high school years, I always remembered to “pet my cat, not my date."
Truthfully, though, I am not a virgin due to religious reasons, nor do I plan on saving myself for marriage. I just have yet to participate in most of the activities leading up to sex. I didn’t have my first official make out session until I was 19, and by that point, I was already self-conscious due to my lack of experience.
Dating As A Virgin
As you can imagine, dating as a virgin is almost impossible. In the defense of virgin’s everywhere, however, I should admit that my attempts at dating have been very poor. First of all, I turn to apps like Tinder and Bumble in hopes of interactions with the opposite-sex, which frequent in conversations like the following:
Boy: “How do you make a room full of 90-year-old women yell “Fuck!”
Me: “Do tell.”
Boy: “Yell BINGO ;) Up for some Easter sex?”
Me: “Nah, I’m one of those ‘Not here strictly for sex’ kind of gals, you know, classy.”
Boy: “Easter doesn’t count, though ;) So want to come over?”
An estimated 40% of men immediately un-match or stop talking to me once they find out about my lack of experience, 30% are either robots or they refrain from replying to my typical “oh, hi :)” greeting, 20% are conversations that go nowhere, and the other 10% try to convince me to sleep with them anyway.
My other attempt at meeting and socializing with men is to dress up and go to the bars every weekend. A typical night of me and my girls on the town is as follows:
- Putting on my face. It takes me 2 hours to get ready. A lot of this prep time is digging through massive piles of clothing to find that shirt I barely spilled on last time I wore it, staring at my pores and trying to shrink them telekinetically, waiting for the glue on my fake eye-lashes to dry to the perfect consistency, and attempting to wipe away the mascara I smudged between my eyes.
- Hitching a ride downtown. Even though I live a few blocks from the bars, it’s impossible to run through the freezing wind in high heels and not look like a frost-bitten fool upon arriving at the bars.
- Arriving at the party. I always imagine walking in and doing a hair flip in slow motion as a Jay-Z song plays in the background. Typically, though, we end up pushing through a cloud of cigarette smoke before getting ushered through the entry way without getting carded because we have become regulars after all these years. It isn’t elegant.
- Drinks. In movies, the pretty girls don’t need to spend their money because boys are always making sure that their hands are never free of a drink. In real life, we get too drunk and take turns buying rounds for people we don’t even know but definitely, follow on Facebook. Then we find a booth to sink into. I like to sit on the edge of the booth in case I need to get out and stand for awhile because of my spanx’ inability to allow me to breathe. Pretty hurts.
- Flirting with boys. Just kidding, this step never happens. I’m too afraid to talk to boys at the bars because I assume that they are merely looking for a hook-up, and I don’t want to disappoint them when I admit that I don’t want to lose my virginity during a one night stand.
- Finding your ride home. When the bar lights come on, all the boys and girls desperately look around for someone to go home with. Some nights my girlfriends find suitable partners, and other times they hop in a taxi together and head home. Regretting the shoes I wore, and wishing I didn’t write my number on that cat coupon before giving it to that tall boy while drunkenly proclaiming, “This is in case you get lonely, or… your cat gets hungry!”, I decide to walk to the Red Pepper for a late night taco. The line is long, but I wait my turn and order enough food for two to bring it home and eat it alone in my bed while finding the perfect Pornhub video to watch.
Take Your Time
This year on my birthday, I am not going to worry about my 401K, or my relationship status, or my irrational fear of cavities being filled. I’m not going to worry about anything being filled, for that matter (disgusting sex joke, sorry Dad.) My label isn’t “25 year old virgin”. My sex life doesn’t define me as a person, and yours shouldn’t either.
This year on my birthday, I’m just going to blow out all my candles, and eat all my cake.
Adriana Lima: Victoria's Secret Model, stayed a virgin until age 27.
Jessica Simpson: Actress, singer, stayed a virgin until age 22.
Carrie Underwood: Singer, stayed a virgin until age 26.
Tina Fey: Writer, actress, stayed a virgin until age 24.
Tim Tebow: Football Player, saving himself for marriage.
