A virgin with a sexual footprint - Her story




Last night I found myself, at about 4 o’clock in the morning, lying in the dark safety of my duvet, scribbling down notes which I later entitled ‘A virgin with a sexual footprint’- I was trying to self analyse my non existent sex life. In recent months I’ve increasingly felt that my virginal state is one of the prime topics of conversation amongst my friends, who avidly express their desire for me to ‘loose it’ and join deep throating soc.- ok well not really the latter, but it’s all the same to me. In fact, some of my friends even housed an intervention in my honour when I went home in the holidays, pining me down as sexually frustrated and beyond the realms of Carol Ledoux style madness. I’d just like to make one thing clear just because I am a virgin does not mean I am sexually frustrated, inept or at all a prude. As nearly a 20-year-old virgin, something I’m certain isn’t an usual concept or thing, my experience of love and relationships has been fairly minimal. I’ve had sexual encounters and it’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity if I’d really wanted to but for me my virginity is something I’d like to give up to someone who respects me, who understands and who I feel wholly comfortable with. 

Just over a year ago now I had an encounter with an older man, not my last either; he was the best friend of a minor celebrity and I found myself on a night out in VIP with the two of them and their other companions. Carried away and overwhelmed by my apparent desirability I agreed to go with the man to his hotel room, he was aware at this point that I was a virgin. 

Once in the hotel room we proceeded to interact with one and another until he suggested we had sex; he didn’t want to use a condom, despite my comments that he would surely be able to easily access one in a hotel, and I then refused. To be perfectly honest I was relieved he didn’t want to, it made it easier for me to decline his offer. Following this he became aggressive, not physically, but he persisted in attempting to pressure me and manipulating me to sleep with him regardless. 
He ended his pleas with, “well at least give me a blow job then.” I left.
I made my way to the reception, looking somewhat dishevelled in my red wine stained shirt, and bumbled something to the hotel staff about ordering me a taxi because my phone was dead. The two foreign receptionists then began to, quite obviously may I add, converse about me in another language. I had never felt cheaper in my entire life.  

A part of me till this day still feels secretly proud of myself, glad that I know even in situations when it’s easier to say yes I will say no. Refusing to compromise my own moral guidelines. I got over the experience fairly quickly, and it wasn’t till later on my girl’s holiday when found myself, with another man, affected by it; almost tearing up before fleeting the scene. I’ve also found myself obsessing other these men, not in a form of idolisation, but in general intrigue. The notion that the most intimate I have been with someone, revealing a part of my self that the rest of world is unaware of, is a stranger is something which constantly plays on my mind. A part of me even thinks that I have a sense subconscious sexual anxiety where, particularly after a drink or two, I’m more likely to pick the stranger rather than the friend I’ve flirted with over a period of months.


One thing I have noticed in my daily pursuits, is that if you tell a guy you’re a virgin they immediately act different with you; dramatising it and often, in between their constant claims that they can’t believe you, trying to persuade you to let them be your first.
It’s not that I’m precious about sex, it can be emotional or casual, fun; but for me, especially because I’ve waited so long, my virginity feels more important and in a sense, more protected. 

I wanted to write this to try and discuss or perhaps make better sense of, the societal pressure that is put on young people to be sexually active and experienced. Don’t get me wrong I don’t think there is anything bad about loosing your virginity at a young age, loose it however you want- it’s your right- but I’ve had some friends who are obsessed with it, as if it were a stamp marked across their head that they desperately needed to erase before embarking into the world and starting university. 

A part of me thinks I’m kidding myself, where my perpetual reflections of virginity are merely a result of deep rooted sexual frustration, anxiety and concern; but I’d like to think otherwise and acknowledge it as form of expression, a manifesto. If I had to advise my younger self, the worried girl who was desperate to be found attractive, to be skinny and desirable, I would tell her to be patient, it will happen when it happens, to take risks, to never compromise and to just enjoy growing up. Sex takes time (and there’s always Pornhub.)


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