Losing Your Virginity: What It Was Like for These 4 People
First things first: there is no black and white answer as to whether someone is a virgin or not. The traditional sense of the word, where a penis must be inserted into a vagina (breaking the hymen), is not all-encompassing. Sure, this applies for many couples still, but not to everyone.
For one, the hymen can break their hymen in many ways that do not involve sex — sports, horseback riding, or inserting a sex toy. Then, the meaning of ‘virginity’ differs yet again when looking at couples that do not have a penis and vagina, respectively, as well as if you remain a virgin after having anal sex (whether you are in a straight or queer relationship). What matters most are the feelings after you lose your virginity.
From the physical signs of lost virginity to the emotional aftermath, these four anonymous people open up about the day when they felt they could no longer refer to themselves as a ‘virgin.’
Was it really worth it? The stigma around having sex in today’s age can overcome you like a cloud of darkness, encompassing you until you feel wanted.
The feeling of being needed in a sexual way overcomes you, like when a hopeless romantic meeting their supposed ‘Princess’; nothing else matters, except a connection that occurs only when two souls create a special bond together.
When it was about to happen, there was raw emotion like you’d never had felt before. That emotion soon turned to bliss, remaining for only a short period of time. For some, this feeling of ecstasy is re-created every night with a different partner. Today’s media teaches us that sex is great, and we should have it as often as possible; but what if it’s not so great after all?
Where are you left after your night is finished? Will you see that person again? Will you text them the next morning, saying how great it was? Should you say “I love you” now? Intimacy is an important part of every relationship, but it relies on the roots planted by both partners.
So, tell me: at the end of the day, was it worth it?
It was the summer of 2012 when I found my first sexual partner. I say “found,” because at that point in my life I was looking. However, in the darkness of the local university bar, known for its cheap drinks and mingling bodies, he found me. His figure, long and lean, glided towards me with primal purpose as though I was exactly what he needed. He looked like a young Al Pacino, eyes sultry and determined.
Two weeks later, after an impromptu baseball game date, I was in the basement of his parent’s home. He had made himself an intricate bedroom/bachelor pad where movie posters lined the walls and musical instruments were neatly tucked away into corners. It wasn’t long before we got into the swing of things and I explained that I was a virgin, lying half naked atop his bedsheets. He paused, unsure if we should continue because he knew “virgins get attached easily.” He didn’t know me, and that was exactly how I wanted to keep it.
It didn’t take much to convince him and soon he was pushing himself inside me, paving the way for the next chapter of my life. It felt rejuvenating, like I was shedding a skin that was held on for too long. I also shed a lot of blood for the next few days, but it was all part of the process, I reminded myself. The process of change. The process of becoming the woman I wanted to be.
Less than two months before my twentieth birthday, losing my virginity was something I wanted to have ‘out of the way’ in my teens; something about it made me feel more confident in getting older and entering that next decade of life. Throughout high school, I had avoided relationships, not wanting to throw myself at anyone I didn’t connect with. Most of the guys at my school had felt sleazy to me.
When I met my first boyfriend at nineteen, it was different. He was handsome, funny, and respectful of the fact that I (initially) wanted to take things slowly. Ten days into officially dating though, I changed my mind. It was early summer, and we were hanging out at his childhood home while his parents were away, when I decided I was done being a virgin. He had checked twice with me to make sure I wasn’t jumping into things (and maybe I was), but I was set on it. I wanted it, I wanted him.
It was painful the first two or three times, but it also felt incredible. Like something at the core of me was being mended each time he was inside of me. I think it also convinced us that we were in love; it was after the second time we had sex that he was staring intently at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I think it’s too early to say it,” he replied. Of course, my heart was exploding.
“Me, too,” I had answered.
I was on my sixth date with my girlfriend at the time, and I planned to have a bonfire with just her and I. I went down to the lake and we ate a dinner that I packed earlier, so we could picnic. We sat by the fire until around eleven and drank. I brought my laptop too, so we had watched a movie together.
We ended up making out and one thing led to another, and we got really frisky. I didn’t bring condoms with me, since I just thought we were going to make out, but we ended up having sex on the beach by the lake. Afterwards, I wasn’t really emotionally affected by it. I just was like, Oh, that’s neat, I ain’t a virgin anymore.
There are many emotions after losing your virginity, ranging from pure bliss to fear. Sometimes, one may even feel regret. With the experience being so unique to each and every person, it’s important to openly acknowledge everyone’s story in a respectful way.
What were your feelings after losing your virginity? If you’re still a virgin, how do you imagine your first time being? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below.
