According to Guttmacher.org and Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (and many other sites on Google), the average age people from the U.S. have sex for the first time is seventeen.
Well I guess I’m not the average American. I like to consider myself a late bloomer for a lot of things and I’m not only talking about looks.
For my twentieth birthday, I tried weed for the first time and began to drink like a college underage sorority girl at twenty-one. A year after that magical year, I met my first boyfriend and decided that he deserved my golden flower.
The most interesting part of those sexless years was the people’s reactions and comments to my inexperience in riding the wood.
“Are you waiting until marriage?”
“Are you a lesbian?”
“Wow, that’s hard to find these days.”
Show me the stats.
“You deserve a trophy.”
Would you say the same to a guy?
People usually like to come to the conclusion that I’m a good girl who was raised by good parents. However, I come from a single-parent household so technically I have daddy issues. Luckily, I don’t fall under the statistics that many fatherless children do.
According to National Center for Fathering, fatherless children are at greater risk of alcohol and drug abuse, more likely to have behavioral problems, and have a higher risk of teen pregnancy.
Fortunately, my mom taught her children to be smart and aware. To always wear protection and no always means no. Neither my siblings nor I are addicts or teen parents. My mother just got very lucky. My mother deserves a trophy.
Even though I was given freedom, my choice to wait limited me in a culture where sleeping with a virgin is considered a prize. Dating was hard, really hard, but I didn’t let that rush my decision.
As soon as Gavin walked into my video production class in college, I couldn’t help but be a creep. For the first time I wanted to pursue someone and I chased him until he fell for me. Eventually, Gavin asked me out on a date, but his looks were better than his personality.
We started off as friends and so I trusted him with my personal information about possibly being the next Virgin Mary (a joke, relax). Although his curiosity was completely normal, he became a salesman when we began dating. The movies may be right about some guys putting “pop a girl’s cherry” on their bucket list.
Although this wasn’t the reason why I stopped seeing Gavin, it was definitely a turn off. To be honest, he was just very awkward and boring.
Honesty is key, but after a few dates, I decided my virginity was going to be kept secret until I found a man I could trust.
When I did find that person, the ME before sex and after were…the same. Honestly, the awkward and uncomfortable experience was forgotten the next day. I didn’t wake up a new person and I certainly did not have an epiphany. In fact, while I was eating dinner with my best friend that’s when I remembered, “Oh shit, yesterday I had sex for the first time.”
Despite the pressure and comments, I feel proud of my decision because it was my own (and of course my then-boyfriend’s).
Nevertheless, society as a whole should not care about anyone’s sex life/non-sex life or how many people they have slept with. As long as the sex is consented, safe, not illegal, and all parties involved get tested and are protected then who the eff cares. For real.