Published on June 29th, 2012 | by Meg Sullivan3
Being a Virgin In The Modern Age
I’m a virgin. I’m one of the small minority of legal under-21 females who still is and I tend to prize my virginity, as though it’s some form of medal-winning Olympic sport, as though I’m some virgin Mary surrounded by Mary Magdalene’s (as long as we’re going with the widely accepted theory that Magdalene was a prostitute). I think I’m the only person I know who has such an obsession with the sanctity of their virginity, yet, I’m not religious, nor do I have a phobia of picking up some lethal STD, I’m not a massive prude who turns to anything sexual with a crucifix engraved with the image of God, and, I’m also not a frigid bitch.
I come from a small town called Hinckley. Hinckley is known as having the highest teen pregnancy rate in the UK; and this doesn’t surprise me. I remember sitting through high school being repulsed by tales of promiscuity and general dirty-doings; perhaps one that is most prominent in my mind (and probably will be for many years), is this – “So me and ____ were round the back of McDonalds and we were just shagging on the grass, and then he asked if we could do anal and I was a bit pissed so I said yeah, and I got a bit of shit on his dick” – The author of this tale chatted on casually and as though this is the norm that happens every day to 14-15 year old girls around the country; she chatted on casually whilst I sat there on the desk next to her with my hand covering my mouth and my gag reflex working overtime. Frequent accounts of ‘quickies’ and blow jobs in the toilets left me with a despondent and hopeless feeling towards romance, it made me realise that I need to be careful – you need your wits about you and you can’t just fuck whoever’s bought the weed in that night. The anecdotes they spread round school left me with the demanding notion that my first time needs to be SPECIAL, it needs to be worthy of a romantic novel, and I’m talking Anais Nin-worthy, not Fifty Shades of Grey-worthy.
After those frightful times at high school, and three years of them, I went to college (we do the education system differently in Leicester but I can’t be bothered to explain all that right now) and I developed a much more pressuring sense of what romance is, what the perfect woman should be, how you should go about pleasuring a member of the opposite sex, and more importantly – what sensuality and sex appeal meant to me. I watched films like The Virgin Suicides, Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita, and anything else old and foreign which was a complete mind-fuck whilst having only the most subtle and underlying sexual tones. I fell in love with girls in tennis skirts, whose hands played loosely against their thighs, I dreamt of being a Birkin-esque femme fatale, and of course this was all aided by the soothing sounds of Serge Gainsbourg. I came to the conclusion that less is best, to only give a little away each time and to remain cool and calm at every sexual advance. Be charming to everyone you meet and in return choose wisely as to whom in return gets your kisses and flirts.
Sex is something that all men dream of, it fills most of their thoughts and it dominates their lives; and I’m certain when on a date they’re not thinking “oh at the end of this I hope she invites me in for a cup of coffee I would die for a decaf”, they’re thinking, “I hope she invites me in for, a cup of coffee, ahehehehe.” And I guess this is where the fun part really kicks in, men with sex are like children with a toy someone else is playing with – the more they can’t have it, the more they want it. So if you’re someone who sleeps around and everyone knows it, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re probably not all that desirable. Having your virginity is a virtue, as whichever man you’ve happened to have earlier charmed will want it, and by gosh by golly they’ll want it bad. It’ll be a prize to them, something they and only they managed to take from you, a trophy to place up high with only their most coveted of metaphorical deer heads.
I’m expecting backlash from this, don’t get me wrong, but then I’ll also go as far to presume those who comment on the article with something like “frigid-ass ratchet hoe” are the types of girls who’re the local village bike. But, if indeed you liked it then I thank you and hope you now want to have sex with me.