I’ve strayed quite a ways from the path I thought I would be walking at the beginning of my twenties. I suppose none of us remain who we think we are for long. Life is a journey that changes us in increments.
I’m not dismayed by the change, indeed; I like me better now than I did then (for any given value of then.) I am, however, at a point where I’m holding onto something that no longer makes sense.
Sex. Or the lack thereof.
(If you are a new reader, or if you’ve forgotten, I’m a virgin.)
(Sorta.)
(Mostly.)
I self-identify as a virgin, for what it’s worth, because I haven’t had “the sex.” The sexy sex that resides inside the box of what “sex” really is in my head. That box, however, has taken a beating over the years (that makes two of us) and several varieties of intimate touch, activities often saddled with the appellation “sex” have been pulled out of the sex box in my head so that I can still identify as such.
The only two “Virginity ending acts” that remain are the big ones: PIV, and Anal. (Manual sex and Oral sex have obviously had to have been relocated to the “not really sex” box.) I’m a fairly smart and rational person, obviously I don’t really believe that there is any sort of moral loophole metaphysically defining some intimate acts as ok, so long as they’re not coitus.
Pictured: Not “Sex”
Still, cognitive dissonance has to be dealt with somehow when physical touch is your primary means of giving and receiving affection.
So that’s how I’ve gotten to where I am, twenty-five, and still a virgin. Having the kinkiest sex I can have without really having sex.
And I don’t think it’s worth it to me to anymore. I know that the “sex box” doesn’t make sense. My nominal virginity, in my mind has always been something that I was holding onto for my someday wife. I’ve just gotten to a place where I don’t think I’m going to marry a woman who will put that kind of value on it.
Pictured: Still Not “Sex”
I don’t anticipate being married anytime soon, and whomever I do marry, I’ll definitely date for a while before tying the knot. Without a strong conviction, and not believing that my virginity is the most important part of a lifetime commitment means I’ve got no reason to to hold onto it anymore. I don’t believe my virginity will make it intact to my wedding night, and I think that’s okay.
Coming to this point frees up a lot of energy. I don’t have to do the mental gymnastics that allow me to believe that fingers or a handheld toy being pounded into my ass is different than a cock strapped on to my lover. That I can kiss and suck on a cunt, I can even rub my cock against it, as long as it doesn’t penetrate, I’m all good.
Losing my virginity is still going to be a big deal, but losing the sex box was the bigger step.
Pictured: Now That’s “Sex”
I find this fascinating (and I totally agree with you about the arbitrary ‘sex box’ thing and the ‘not sex’ made me laugh: “I never had sexual relations with that woman!”).
I’m curious that there is no mention of your faith in this post. Were your notions of virginity not tied up with your Christianity, or was that an assumption on my part? Do you feel a conflict there at all?
Ferns
The “sex box” thing is arbitrary, but its really just a way of thinking about what I have and haven’t been comfortable with. The reasoning doesn’t really look sensible to me even, but it doesn’t change the emotional weight of certain acts.
Faith, was a major contributing factor in shaping my values surrounding intimacy, but has not been a driving factor in maintaining my virginity in a while. It;s something I will no doubt post about at a later point.
It’s a big step. I went through a similar evolution in my thinking when I was about your age.
I think it’s almost a forgone conclusion to reach this point in life and reevaluate these things.
It has been interesting to watch these changes of definition happen. I’m always hesitant to comment on your perspective on virginity for a number of reasons (“sex” is a pretty fluid term for me as a bi woman, the idea of wanting to keep an act unique to one person is alien to my interpretation of poly, and losing virginity in the traditional sense wasn’t a choice in my case).
One thing about your discussion that’s always resonated is how carefully you’ve thought about it though. You’re right, it isn’t about the act so much as what it means to you, and if you hold onto a rule that no longer makes sense in your moral or ideological framework, it really can’t do you any good. Given how important physical affection seems to be to you, it seems like balancing with your toes just to one side of an arbitrary line and leaning over it as far as you can without falling is higher risk than taking a step forward.
Like Ferns, I’m curious about the lack of discussion of faith. Keeping faith when not observing traditional sexual norms feels strange and difficult maybe beyond what it should. Does it really make sense to put more weight on a healthy sexual relationship outside of marriage than on yelling at my dad or eating a cheeseburger? Rationally, no, but that’s the way we’re taught to think about sex.
The definitions of “sex” and “virginity” I’ve been working with are so heavily influenced by the culture I was raised in. While I acknowledge that it’s a rather phallocentric and limited definition, it has been difficult for me to change how I think of it, both because of how I feel about it, and the emotional weight of the idea of coitus.
So, yeah, I’ve been towing the line for a while. I have had to think abut it so thoroughly, because there are so many factors involved in it for me. It’s taken me a long time to get to where I am.
I’ve got a lot of thinking to do about my faith, and I’ve been putting it of. I didn’t address it in this post, because I’m not yet sure what I have to say about it.