At one point in my life, in the not too distant past, I was very shameful of my status as a virgin. It wasn’t until people started telling me how to act, who to be, how to look and dress to change myself that I started to realize that I made other people uncomfortable. My virginity made them question themselves. For some women it made them think that I was a prude who would judge them for being sexually active. For some men it made them feel like I was challenging their masculinity for not being attracted to them, because I was not only a virgin – who desperately needed to fix this problem – but I was also fat and socially unattractive due to said fatness. How dare I not beg them to fuck me!
People think that being a virgin means that I am somehow opposed to sex, religious or that I am not sexually experienced in understanding my own body. Often times I notice that people censor their own conversations around me, not talking about sex or intimacy with me because they think that I cannot talk about it or do not understand.
It has also led people to question my sexual orientation, sometimes being called a lesbian by men who fall into the if I’m not attracted to them it is because I am not attracted to any man! I was even asked once by my father if I had any new ‘boyfriends or girlfriends’ in my life. Something that if you knew my father you would understand is a really abnormal question for him to ask and this wasn’t the first time that someone on his side of the family has asked questions. My aunts seem think it is their sole mission when they talk to me to find out if I am actually fucking anyone. When their search comes up empty it turns into a speech about how they don’t want me to end up like ‘so and so,’ or how much better of a person I would be if I did have a partner.
This is what happens when people find out you are a virgin. It doesn’t matter what else you do in your life, how full it is or how happy you are, the fact of the matter is that you are incomplete. You are automatically vulnerable to their pity or their shaming of you.
The point that changed for me where I stopped feeling shame about my virginity, and I started to own the fact that it is mine to do with it what I want, was when a male coworker told me that if I was ever desperate enough he would take care of my ‘problem.’ Offering himself to me in such a crude way made me realize how lucky I am to go into a sexual situation with life experience, knowledge that most people do not have when losing their virginity and privileged to not have it taken by force or without my consent.
While it does shape the way I approach dating or possible relationships it does not define my worth.
** It has taken me a long time to write this post, in some ways due to all of the amazing emphasis that people in the fat rights community have in showing successful relationships, but a lot of it is because of the shame I felt filling space as a stereotype. Often we spend so long disproving the stereotypes we forget that people, like myself, fall into them head first. I know now that being a fat virgin does not mean that something is wrong with me personally. Successfully dating or not we all deserve respect because we are all human.
thanks for your story, your ownership of your body and your strength. While it was not the route i have chosen, i honor your commitment your yourself and your own body. Rock on being you.
I had a conversation with my sister the other day where we both talked about how we both married the first person we could manage–both marrying our high school sweethearts–because we so desperately needed to get out of our family situation. It worked out for her, but not for me. My whole life would be different now if I’d held on to my virginity and given myself a little time to realize that I didn’t need to jump from the frying pan into the fire.
I really appreciate hearing your story. I love it when people speak up and show “stereotypical” situations from a totally different perspective (the perspective of actually living it). I am not a virgin, but I am single and most likely intend to remain that way, and I wouldn’t want anyone pitying me for it.
I’ve been reading your blog for a few weeks or so, and I love this post. The situation with your coworker and with other men resonated with me – I fielded a few such offers when I was a virgin and everyone I went to school with knew it. I remember the outright hostility from some of the boys when I turned them down in earnest, and there were many rumors that I was a lesbian (which backfired for the boys who started them, since it helped me realize that I actually did want to date girls). I admire your courage in writing this post and deciding for yourself what is right for you.
I don’t get why people think your dating (or virginity) status is any of their business? I mean, I know people feel free to insinuate themselves into all sorts of places they or their opinions do not belong, but it always shocks me.
You are not a stereotype of course, you are just a person, living your life they best way you know how. Just like the rest of us! *best wishes*
People just like to categorize. I give off very ambiguous cues when it comes to my sexuality and it makes people uncomfortable, which is why they ask and then get more uncomfortable when I am truthful about it. It is a giant circle. One good thing is that it taught me let people tell me things that they want about themselves instead of prying about it.
I should mention I don’t think I am a stereotype, why I am still a virgin has very little to do with my fat or anything that has to do with the normal ‘fat is unlovable’ mantra. My point was that it is complicated, I would need 100+ more posts to explain it, but being a virgin does not mean I am less of a rad fatty or need to feel shame because I am not breaking the mold completely.
Thank you for this post!
I too am a virgin, at an age where most of my friends are either married or in relationships. Most of the time I do feel strange, being this old (30) and still a virgin, and fear that I will stay this way forever.
I too fear this a well, I know that it isn’t because I am not a worthwhile person but because it just hasn’t happened. I try to stop worrying about when it will happen and do the things that make me happy to be living now.
Thank you for writing this.
I’m actually an anorexic virgin, but I still feel I am able to relate to much of what you have said. It makes me feel uncomfortable sometimes when people assume I should have had a partner by now (as I am almost 22). Some people have also assumed I was a lesbian. The truth is I have just not found the right person yet. Is there something wrong with waiting for someone special? I don’t think this is something to take as lightly as our culture seems to think.
I think it is awesome that you are so confident in yourself now. I have trouble with confidence myself, and I deeply admire those who have attained it. I wish I could be more like you.
I’m not always confident about it, it still does in some instances make me uncomfortable. Mostly being vulnerable in general is the reason why. You waiting is just going against the belief that women are suppose to be paired off in order to be a complete person. We are not taught to be self contained, or not need outside people to guide us through life. I think a lot of this stems from the idea that women are suppose to work, but not be able to support themselves financially or otherwise. I want to choose someone to lean on because it was something I wanted not because I needed it.
BTW confidence is like a cycle for me, some days (like yesterday) I had a horrible day. Today I’m feeling alright. Just keep telling yourself that you are awesome. =0)
BRAVO FOR YOU! You are a virgin by choice, not for lack of (distasteful) opportunities. Having jumped over this stream a long time ago, I can promise you that you would not be feeling as positive if you’d settled. So very many girls have sex too early, and – having ruined their chances at a one-time experience – urge everyone else to get down on their level as soon as possible. Misery loves company. You are a smart individual, and I admire you for aiming high. Anyone can have gutter sex, but who would want to?
Right on!
I get occasional weirdness because the only person I’ve slept with is my boyfriend. We got together when I was 18, I’m now almost 25 and out relationship is really good – it’s quite probable that we’ll stay together for good. He may be the only person I ever have sex with and this really weirds people out sometimes. We have fantastic sex, and I don’t need a handful of bad experiences to value what I have now.
My point? There are no rules to sex. The only right way to do it is the way that’s right for you.
The same sorts of judgments abound when you are single by choice as well.
When I was in my early twenties I pretty much had my heart ripped out by the woman I thought I would spend my life with. Perhaps I was young and naive, but it was what I believed. We’d been together since middle school. She was the girl I lost my virginity to, and the only relationship I had ever been in.
Not only did she cheat on me, but she choose my best friend to be that person. The only life long friend I had.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not putting all the blame on her. He is just as much at fault. It just hit me so hard because of the fact I had so few longterm friendships. I grew up an Army Brat, most of my friends fell along the wayside as we moved from place to place. I was only lucky enough to keep that one friendship over the years. The two people I loved and trusted the most betrayed me.
I was devastated. I just didn’t think I was mentally or emotionally able to make any smart decisions during the time, so I decided that rather than “rebound” and potentially do something stupid, I’d just stay single for awhile.
Awhile turned into a year. Then two. Eventually “awhile” was three years, and during that time I was almost incessantly harassed. Friends, family, co-workers. They all seemed to know what was best for me. “You need to get back on the market”, they’d say. Or, “You deserve someone who loves you!” They tried to set me up with women, and would get angry when I refused. I even had a handful of people on different occasions suggest that sex was all I needed to get out of the “funk” I was in.
I wasn’t in a funk though; I was happy!
Not that delirious sort of “giddy happiness” you have when in love, but I was content. I was happy with life. I had things that I enjoyed, and it was enough. It just wasn’t enough for those around me, who seemed to feel that the fact I was alone HAD to mean I was secretly miserable. I MUST be crying myself to sleep in a spiral of depression, because there is no way a normal person would willingly be single so long.
Frankly I started to resent the whole bunch of them.
No amount of honest discussion could convince them that I was happy the way I was, and didn’t need their help. It wasn’t until I started to completely cut them out of my life, one by one, that they realized I was serious. They finally backed off and let me get on living my life the way I wanted.
Time passed.
I did fall in love again, eventually. I fell in love on my own terms, with the most wonderful woman in the world. She was my angel, and every minute with her felt like the most special moment of my life. Nothing could separate us … until illness took her from me. It was another heartbreak, but not the same. We had a love that felt bright as the sun, and we did everything on our own terms. We lived the way we wanted, and never let anyone dictate to us who we should be or how we should act.
Never let anyone pretend like they know what you should be. They just don’t have the right. If I had listened to all of those around me, and just scrambled for the first pair of nice legs that walked my way … sure, I might have ended up in the perfect relationship. Its possible. But I waited until I knew I was ready, and ended up with a soul mate instead of just a date.
We only had a brief handful of years, but I’ll never regret a moment of my life with her.
Things will happen in their own time. If you force something you may simply end up with a regret that you’ll never be able to change.
Sorry to ramble on so much, your words just hit a nerve and reminded me of things I’ve been through.
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People are judgmental and disgusting. I am surprised by this almost daily. Your co-worker who offered himself up to you? A total scum bag, for real! I would report him for harassment, but that is just me.
Only you know what is right for you and anyone telling you otherwise can fuck right the hell off. I would never censor myself around you or anyone else for that matter (obv). This just pisses me off! Ugh! Your sexuality, your fatness, your life-long goals…no one’s business but yours!
I know how I felt about my virginity (everyone thought I was a slut because my best friend was) and how I went about dealing with that on my own terms. People make ridiculous assumptions, but I think that says way more about them than anything else.
Thank you for sharing so much of yourself. I know how hard that can be. I live my life out loud, as they say, and I take the responsibility that comes with it. I am so happy to have you in my life, even if it is only online for now. =0) <3
Yeah the job I was at had a host of labor issues so me commenting on sexual harassment wouldn’t of done anything. I will be writing a post about it pretty soon actually. I think the most genuine responses have been the people who told me they had waited as well or were happy that I was able to stay true to myself, I keep those close.
One day I will visit your coffee shop! It will be amazing! I seriously hate being away from all of the Cali rad fatties. =0)
I was a fierce, committed virgin for years (beyond when it is socially acceptable). And then, one day, I lost my nerve and “did it,” and while it wasn’t horrible, it wasn’t exactly wonderful, either. I wish I had stuck to my guns a little longer.
Any guy who volunteers to free you of your burden of virginity is someone you should approach with extreme caution. And, frankly, contempt.
I envy you. Because you have life experience, and hormones and peer pressure won’t dictate your decision. I had rigid principles, and still managed to lose it to the local Mick Jagger knock-off, and that didn’t make me feel very good in the long run.
Fantastic post and major kudos to you for owning your life, your body, your choices and not being shamed for them.
I experience something similar because I have made the decision to stay celibate until I am in a relationship that fits my needs. Not to withhold sex, not because I’m “frigid”, not because I’m fat and scared of anyone seeing my body, but because my sexuality is MINE and when it comes to sharing that with someone, I have very definite boundaries that I want to establish. I either gave sex away to people I didn’t really want to have it, or had it taken from me in the past, and now I feel that I have to re-claim it as mine, and keep it as mine, free to share or not share, with whom I choose.
Thank you for being so open, every time someone is so open, it opens the doors for others.
What a fabulous post, something not often talked about in this context.
I lost my own virginity at the age of 16 as the result of my own hormonal raging with the combined pressure of my boyfriend. At the time, I remember feeling like I didn’t really have the choice to stay a virgin- if I wanted a boyfriend, I had to give it up. I also remember feeling like I might not get the opportunity again, so maybe it was for the best?
Me and this boyfriend dated for about a year and a half. I faked an orgasm every time, and I was met with disgust when I begged him to pleasure me in other ways. We broke up the day after I turned 18 and the day before my high school graduation. Through the tears and pain, I promised myself that I would remain celibate until I found myself and figured out my own needs. That was almost 9 years ago, and while at times it can feel like a painful dry-spell, I try to remember how important it is to be true to who I am, even if that means that others don’t understand.
You should feel proud of yourself, that you stick to your own pace, regardless of how much is confuses other people. If I hadn’t felt so desperate to feel something, from anyone, at such a turbulent age, my own sexual guidance system might have found a more fitting direction.
I felt huge amounts of social pressure to lose my virginity, and an equal amount of catholic guilt not to. In the end I just got really angry, and took the attitude ‘this is my fucking body, and I can do what the fuck I want with it’.
three years into my first stable, happy, loving relationship I decided that we were going to sleep together, and we had fantastic, hilarious, crap sex.
I made exactly the right decision for me, you know your own body. I wish people would stop thinking other peoples sexuality is any of their business
Awesome post! While I’m not a virgin, I can relate to what you wrote in so many ways. I’m single (age 29) and have had only a few very brief relationships, none of which resulted in defined relationships (as in, I’ve never had someone I could call a boyfriend). So I get all of the questions that single people get at my age, and the expectations that I must be looking for someone, that there must be something wrong with me if I’m not interested or able. Another way I relate to your experience is by fulfilling some fat stereotypes. I sweat heavily, which I also did when I was thin, but now people can use it as justification of what they already think about fat people. Also, I often eat a lot, or at least more than some of the thin and food-monitoring friends I have, and I hate that I read as a cautionary tale of what happens when you eat what you want. All that said, there are plenty of ways in which I don’t fulfill the fat stereotypes, but it’s really hard to come to terms with the ways in which I do.