Virgin Mary

 Dear Diary,

    I'm going to get really personal today, so TMI warning. I'm twenty-one, almost twenty-two, and I'm still a virgin. Which, in my opinion, feels pretty rare in today's society.

    The reason why isn't anything huge or life-changing like you might expect. It's simply because I haven't found someone I trust enough with my body like that yet.

    Well... actually, LG is a pretty close contender, but I'm getting way too ahead of myself with that one.

    I've always been very adamant on the fact that I'd want to lose it to a boyfriend rather than a "talking-stage" or a "situationship." But lately I've been wondering, is that realistic or am I being naïve? 

    There's only one other virgin in my friend group, Hannah. I'm almost 80% sure that Hannah and I have similar reasons for waiting, but obviously, I can't speak for her. Most of my other friends had their first experiences with people they weren't officially dating.

    And I want to make it very clear that I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing.

    I don't think there's one "correct" way to lose your virginity, and I definitely don't think being in a relationship automatically makes sex more meaningful or guarantees that you won't regret it. What someone else chooses to do with their body quite literally has nothing to do with me.

    I think hearing my friends' experiences has just made me think about my own a lot more.

    When I first started experimenting with what I liked sexually, I asked basically every one of my friends what losing their virginity was like. My friend Luna—hi Luna, if you're reading this—lost hers to someone she was in a situationship with. At the time, she was completely enamored with him and over the moon about it. That relationship eventually ended pretty messily, though, and she's since told me that she regrets how things happened.

    My other friend, Sasha, also had her first time with someone she wasn't officially dating. Hers happened in high school, and she mostly remembers it as painful and confusing because she didn't really know what to expect. As far as I know, they're not exactly on good terms anymore either.

    Then there's Kylie, who had her first time with someone she met on a dating app. They slept together, and afterward, they basically never spoke again.

    Again, none of those stories make me think my friends did anything wrong. Honestly, they make me question myself more than anything.

    I hear about their experiences and wonder whether I'm being smart by waiting for something that feels safe and meaningful to me, or whether I've built up this idea of my "first time" so much that I'm waiting for something that doesn't actually exist.

    Because I do want to have sex.

    Preferably sometime soon.

    Part of me just wants to finally have the experience. I'm curious. I want to know what it feels like. I want to understand what everyone is talking about instead of always being the friend sitting there like, "Oh wow... that's crazy," because I have absolutely nothing to contribute.

    There's also this small part of me that feels almost behind because of it. I know that's ridiculous. There's obviously no deadline for having sex, and I'm not going to spontaneously combust if I turn twenty-two as a virgin. But when almost everyone around you has already done something, it's hard not to wonder when your turn is supposed to happen.

    At the same time, I'm scared.

    Like... genuinely scared.

    To me, sex is probably one of the most vulnerable things you can do with another person. You're completely naked, skin-to-skin, letting someone see and touch parts of you that you normally keep completely private. You're literally letting another human being inside of you.

    I genuinely don't know how it gets more vulnerable than that.

    Maybe other people don't look at sex that way, and that's completely fine. But I do.

    And I think that's the part people sometimes misunderstand when I say that I want to wait for someone I trust. It isn't about purity. I'm not "saving myself." I don't think my virginity makes me more innocent, respectable, or valuable than anybody who has had sex. And I'm definitely not waiting until marriage.

    God, no.

    I just know myself well enough to know that I probably couldn't treat sex like something completely casual, especially my first time.

    I want to feel cared about before it happens.

    I want to feel safe while it's happening.

    And maybe most importantly, I want to feel cared about afterward.

    I don't want to wake up the next morning feeling like I shared the most vulnerable version of myself with someone who could easily disappear from my life the second it was over. I don't need some dramatic declaration of eternal love afterward, but I think I'd need to know that I actually mattered to that person beyond the fact that they wanted to sleep with me.

    

And maybe that's why I've always pictured my first time happening with a boyfriend.

    Not because the title itself magically makes sex safer. Obviously, people get hurt and betrayed in relationships all the time. A boyfriend can still break your heart. A relationship can still end horribly. Having a label doesn't guarantee anything.

    I think the label has just always represented something else to me.

    Trust. Consistency. Knowing where I stand with someone. Knowing that they actually want me in their life.

    But now I'm starting to wonder if I've been placing too much importance on that title.

    What if I meet someone I trust completely, who cares about me, makes me feel safe, and treats me well, but he isn't technically my boyfriend?

    Would that suddenly make the experience wrong for me?

    I don't think it would.

    Which is probably where LG complicates this entire little philosophy of mine.

    Because for the first time, I'm realizing that maybe what I've actually been waiting for isn't necessarily a boyfriend.

    Maybe I've just been waiting for trust.

    And those two things aren't always synonymous.

    Still, I can't help wondering if my lack of experience makes me naïve about all of this. Maybe I'm romanticizing sex because I've never actually had it. Maybe after I finally do it, I'll laugh at myself for treating it like this huge emotional milestone.

    Or maybe I'll be glad that I waited until I felt completely comfortable.

    I genuinely don't know.

    That's kind of the problem.

    I want the experience, but I don't want it badly enough to ignore the fact that it means something to me.

    And I think, for now, that's probably enough of a reason to keep waiting.

xoxo, Keke♡