This post is going to be about sex.
Phew, I said it. If I can say that so bluntly, then this next statement shouldn’t be too difficult, right?
I’m a virgin.
You know, for a few more hours, anyway.
Wow, okay, turns out that was difficult to write. Like, really difficult. Like, as I type these words, I’m considering dumping this post completely because who on earth would want to read this unless they plan to mock me mercilessly about it?
But no, I’m not going to delete this, I’m going to write it—not because I think you need to read it, but because I need to say it.
I could give you a really in-depth look at all off the reasons why I’ve decided to wait until marriage and all of the reasons why Mr. Potion has made the same decision, but there is literally no way to write such a post without it sounding preachy or judgmental, no matter how hard I try to avoid such overtones. (Trust me, I just wrote it three times.) I’ll share part of it, however, and try my best to avoid the preachy-ness:
When you love someone, you want to give him things—you want to cook his favorite dinner and surprise him with a copy of that video game he’s been looking forward to and take him to your favorite museum. You know that you really love someone when you want to give him everything, and you don’t expect anything in return.
Having sex with someone is giving him everything.
Sex is sometimes referred to as “the marriage act” not because it is an act which occurs within the context of a marriage, but because it is literally the act of marriage itself—the exchange of rings is just a symbol of giving yourselves to each other, but having sex is quite literally giving yourselves to each other. It is the purest, deepest way to express your love for someone—to surrender your body, your emotions, your fears, your needs, your desires to that person, and to receive those things from him in return. This would be an utterly terrifying and in no way pleasurable experience if you didn’t whole-heartedly trust this other person—if you didn’t love him with all that you are.
That kind of a gift—the gift of yourself, in every meaning of the word—is only truly meaningful if it’s only given to one person. If sex is the act of physically marrying someone, it’s not quite so special if it’s done with just anyone, or if it’s done with a ton of people—if I marry everyone I meet, and turn marriage into something that happens every day, then when I finally Get Married the word has lost its meaning. When I’ve finally met the person I love with all my being, if I’ve already given all my being to another, or many other people, what makes this guy any different? What makes my love for him better than my mere esteem for someone else?
Not gonna lie, it’s been tough holding this viewpoint. In high school, I was That Girl whose boyfriend dumped her because she wouldn’t “put out”; the day after the breakup, this was the reason our mutual friend gave for why he so abruptly let me go, and I had to ask what that phrase meant. Yeah. In college, I felt like I had to preface nearly every flirtatious encounter with, “I’m a virgin, so…” just to keep his expectations in check and give him an easy out so he wouldn’t have to waste his time on me if he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. On the plus side, this frankness helped to weed out the real jackasses before I wasted any time on them. On the minus side, one said jackass took this conversation as a challenge rather than a rule, and his persistence coupled with my naivete to put me in what turned out to be quite the terrifying situation one slightly-drunken night—I’m almost certain that if he’d had one more beer in him, he would’ve quite violently forced what he wanted; as it was, I had to result to crossing more boundaries than I was ready for as a sort of peace offering when my “no” wasn’t being accepted. And then I finally found Mr. Potion, and the difficulty comes from restraining myself!
As hard as it’s been at times for me, I know Mr. Potion has had it 10 times worse; whereas a woman may still be desirable nowadays if she is a virgin—as with the douchebag described above—a man is scorned as a failure by society, his peers, and his love interests if he’s chosen to wait until marriage.
For all the negativity we’ve had to put up with, there are certain negative side-effects we’ve never had to experience—unplanned pregnancies, STD’s, and awkward mornings filled with hungover regret. (I mean, sure, we’ve both been hungover and regretted events of the night before, but not that kind of regret.)
Anyway I think maybe I failed at being not-preachy, but what I wanted to say is that today, I’m not losing my virginity; today, I’m giving everything to the man I love more than anything—I’m marrying him in word, in symbol, and in action.