Thoughts on Sex and Labels Pt 2

Just like I didn’t lose my virgin lips until I was a senior in high school, I was a late bloomer when it came to losing my actual virginity too. I know a lot of my peers had their adventures with “The Big V” while still in high school, and a few even before that.  I never felt any pressure to get it over with, or to do it, even when most of those around me had done it.  I guess that’s why I was mostly through my sophomore year of college before I tumbled into bed with anyone.

I had always been interested in sex.  I’d watched actors make love to saxophone infused montages.  I’d read about it in books and magazines.  Most of my information regarding what men wanted, and how to get what a woman needed came from Cosmo.  I would spend my nights fantasizing about what it would be like to sleep with someone. I would wonder about who it would be with, if it would be good and if it was as wonderful as everyone said it was.

I think a lot of my curiosity stemmed from the fact that my parents were, and still are, pretty religious.  Sex was something that was reserved for marriage, and any discussion of it was vague and quickly ended.  If I had questions, they answered them, but what teenager goes to their parents with their real questions about sex?  Not many that I’ve come in contact with.

This eventually led to some experimentation on my part with figuring out my own body.  I really hate the word masturbation, but there are very few people that I’ve talked with that haven’t experimented with self-pleasure in some way.  I know it’s a touchy (no pun intended) subject for a lot of people.  Hell, I would NEVER have talked with my parents about it.  Most people don’t even talk with their partners about it.  Which I find very interesting.  I owe a lot of my confidence in the bedroom to the fact that I was very aware of my body and what I liked and what I didn’t.  I think that I am satisfied with my sex life because I know what works for me. 

I’m not saying that it was all a bed of roses.  My first time was right on par with most other girls…painful and not fun.  More on that later.  Even getting into a groove with a new partner can be difficult and sometimes embarrassing.  But the practice of self-pleasure can be beneficial.  At least it was in my case.  And I will be the first one to admit that sometimes I can do it better myself.  Sometimes, I don’t even want a man.  I am pretty damn good at taking care of myself.

Anyway, my parents were the first ones to talk with me about the mechanics.  But like most teenagers, I got most of my information from my friends and the media.

Needless to say, when the time came for me to lose my virginity, I was less than prepared.  I knew what was supposed to happen.  I knew what went where and how to go about it.  But I don’t think anyone can really be prepared for it.  Not really.  The excitement took the edge off of my fears and lingering questions, but during and after the act, I was pretty concerned that something was not right.

I didn’t have sex again for a few months after I lost my virginity. (Don’t worry, we’ll revisit and delve into detailed depths about this when I reach it on my Guys In My Life Timeline).  Sex is not like the movies.  It’s not like the magazines.  It’s not like the books.  At least not the first time.

I remember being pretty disappointed by that fact.  I remember thinking, right after giving it up, “What is all the fuss about??”  Since I wasn’t eager to jump back into bed any time soon, I spent a lot of time researching what I could do the next time to make it better.

I talked with my roommates and friends, did countless internet researches, read articles and posts and discovered that for most women, their first time is often a bad representation of what sex can be like.  If you lose your virginity to another virgin, this can sometimes be a factor that adds to the negativity tenfold. 

Now, I do not speak for the male sex.  I am not a man.  I did not speak to any men regarding virginity loss.  But since sex for them is not invasive (speaking of course, of heterosexual intercourse), and any contact with a female involving nudity and male dangly bits is thrilling, I highly doubt their opinion of first times, or any time, is a negative experience.  Feel free to comment with your thoughts if I’m wrong.

Upon discovering that it gets better the more you do it, I was determined that I would enjoy it.  Sex was supposed to be fun and exciting and feel oh-so-good.  So, that became my mission.  I was going to have sex until I enjoyed it.  Not only that, but I was going to get to a point that it was comfortable and enjoyable for those that I was doing it with.

It became my mission in life for sex to be good.  Because everyone deserves good sex.

Even before I lost my virginity, or was even in a position where it was an option, I thought about it a lot.  I had seen a few pornographic videos, had those annoying pop up ads confront me at the most inopportune moments, read and watched it in the media and listened to my friends experiences with it.  I became convinced at a pretty early age that when I finally did lose my virginity, it was not going to be with the love of my life, or even someone I thought I was in love with.  In fact, I knew it was going to be with someone who I didn’t care much about.  I guess my logic at the time was, my first time is going to suck, so why waste it on someone who I care about?  It might not make sense to you.  But it made so much sense to me then.   I wanted to get really good at sex so that if I ever did find the person I loved enough to spend my life with…our sex would be nothing but good.

When I tell Dr. Hokanson (my therapist, who will be lovingly shortened to Dr. H for blog purposes) about this, his eyes get all squinty and his brow furrows.  He is always trying to find out why.  I don’t have an explanation for it, really.  It’s a decision I made at a young age, well before I was ever seriously thinking about having sex with anyone.  When we discuss this, he simply says, “Interesting…” and scribbles frantically into his pad of paper.  I’m not sure, but I think I am the cause of many dead trees in his office.  Even our shorter sessions fill pages.

Looking back, now that it has been years since that fateful night, I still think I made the right choice.  The guy who I chose to be the first is no longer a part of my life.  We had a huge falling out (which you will hear about someday), followed by a brief make up period, followed by ceasing all contact completely.  I don’t know where he is, if he is with anyone, or if he remembers me with any kind of fondness at all.  I do have nostalgic feelings when I recall our times together.  He’ll always hold a special place for me.  A special, awkward place. I don’t really blame him if he hates me.  It was a weird time for both of us.

Still.  You will always have a connection with the guy who takes your virginity, whether you want it or not.  You’ll always have the memory of it, positive or negative, because it marks a huge milestone in your life, regardless of the age it comes at.  Again, I speak for females.  Not all of them, but a vast majority.  If you’re male, and have an opinion one way or the other about your first time partner, please let me know.  I’m interested.

I've always found that there are three kinds of people when it comes to discussing sex.

(1) The ones who are embarrassed by any and all talk remotely close to it.

T     These people will do anything to NOT talk about it.  They are either embarrassed by the notion, have  religious or personal reservations regarding it, or feel that it’s something that should be kept private.

2  (2)  The ones who will talk about it loudly and/or in graphic detail.
     These people have no problem with sharing details and information regarding sex and all things sexual.  They usually feel that knowledge is power and by sharing their experiences and information, they are benefiting all those out there in their sexual endeavors. 

3  (3) The ones who think they know it all, enjoy innuendo, have strong opinions or thoughts about it, but have never actually done it.
     These are my favorite.  They are all talk and no game.  Literally.  These are usually the ones who desperately wish they were engaging in sexual activities, but are too shy to ever try it with their partners.  But they enjoy talking about it.  They enjoy making jokes and sharing their mostly uninformed opinions with anyone who will listen.  They know all of the positions, slang and terminology….but don’t usually have much experience with…experiencing it.

I’m sure there are more.  But these are generally the ones that you will find.  I prefer to star in my own category.  It falls somewhere between 1 and 2.  I am happy to talk openly about it with anyone who WANTS to hear about it.  But I also know when I’ve shared too much, when to stop and when to draw the line between sharing information and forcing it on someone who is uncomfortable.

Now, this blog is for me.  It’s a way to sort through the various relationships and experiences I have had.  I am sharing my thoughts and personal adventures.  So, if you are reading this and find something that I say offensive, or too graphic, or inappropriate, feel free to stop reading.  I will not change its content because of you.  This is MY blog.

That being said, I really think the fact that women should be shy, or secretive or avoid speaking of sex altogether quite absurd.  If the information being presented is informative and honest, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.  I hope to give some semblance of that here.

So there you have it.  My thoughts on sex and labels.  I’m sure we’ll revisit these throughout this blogging experience.  See you next time!

--Lemi