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September 16, 2013 | by  | in Features |
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A Cherry Disposition

Discussing my virginity and experiences with it is not as straightforward as it might seem: virginity isn’t really an experience—it’s the lack of sexual experience. I didn’t necessarily intend on ever getting to this position; that is, being a 22-year-old virgin in my fifth year of study. It is one I’ve reached by default, which will make more sense when I explain some other things. On virginity itself: well, I don’t have sex, my friends know about it, and it isn’t an issue for me—it’s something I’m comfortable about. There is, of course, more to it than just that, so I’m going to look at things from a slightly wider angle and tell you how I got here.

First of all, I’m not from a religious background, although that does get asked when my virginity gets raised. I rejected religion at a relatively young age. When I was first sent to a private school as a nine-year-old, I came home upset after going to chapel, telling my father that I didn’t want to go because I didn’t believe in God. So this is certainly not a tale of someone waiting for marriage.

My romantic history is limited. I’ve never had a proper girlfriend—at most, I’ve seen a couple of girls for a month or two, with that being the end of it. I ended it with the first girl; the second time around it was her decision. While I would like to have a girlfriend, I don’t want to have just any girlfriend.

Instead, I’m after that kind of person you may only come across once a year or so, where you get a feeling that you can’t replicate with just anyone. The type of feeling Emily Blunt’s character describes in The Adjustment Bureau; “But once I felt, even for a moment, what I felt with you. You ruined me. I didn’t want to settle for less.” I’m happy to wait for someone like that. My virginity, as the default position, is inevitably intertwined with that.

Around the time peers began to be sexually active at the end of high school, I decided that I didn’t want to rush in and have sex with anyone, and instead wait for someone who meant something for me. I came to this decision after conversations with older friends, who shared the sentiment that you can only have your first time once, so you might as well do it with someone that means something to you.

So my virginity at this age has more resulted in being the default position for not wanting to have casual sex and being prepared to wait and be picky.

This does result in wider issues that perhaps would not be present if I were sexually active. My singledom, coupled with my dress sense and haircut, lead to questions regarding my sexuality. Discussing my sexual history with girls I’m interested in is never easy either—it’s not so straightforward to communicate.

The thing is, I imagine once I’ve found the right person, we’d probably have sex maybe a couple of months into dating. It’s not like I intend on having one sexual partner for life. But it’s hard to strike the balance when communicating my values and where I’m coming from.

On the one hand, I don’t want her to think I’m just looking for someone merely for the purposes of losing my virginity. But I also don’t want them to think I’m waiting for my soulmate, which has been assumed in the past.

It also becomes a sticking issue, as there are usually prior sexual partners, and the roadblock of virginity is usually not expected. I have been told by one girl that it was an issue for her.

This doesn’t concern me though—I see these things are self-regulating. The right person would respect my decision rather than criticise me for it.

Issues also arise in other discussions, such as kissing and cuddling being interpreted as meaning something more than just than that. A kiss is not a contract, even if it is very nice. Kissing and cuddling is also all I really desire doing physically with someone I do like.

So what is my grand statement? There isn’t one really. I’m here because I’m waiting for the right person to lose it to and I’m yet to meet her. I’m happy to wait, and wouldn’t want it any other way. While I may have felt some peer pressure over this in my first year, accusations around my sexuality and interesting reactions to my decision, in the end, I’m happy with where I’m at and comfortable enough with who I am for these things not to faze me.

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