Test Drive

I am waiting until I am married to have sex.

That means, for those of you doing the math at home, I am 26 and still a virgin. Shocking. Cue the gasping and murmuring. I have been made to feel on more than one occasion that I am missing out at best and a prudish, loser at worst. But it’s my decision. One that I make every single day to fight for my future relationship with my future wife.

“But you wouldn’t buy a car before test driving it would you?”

Well for one, a woman is not a fucking car. What part of that analogy intrigues men? Maybe it’s the purchasing and owning a car that they equate to their relationships with women. Maybe it’s exotic cars that drive real fast and are painted red like lipstick. Maybe it’s the fact that when your car is “under-performing,” you can take it into the shop for tune ups or leave it next to some curb in a wal-mart parking lot with a for sale sign hanging in the window. It’s troubling at best and downright chauvinistic at worst.

But if I must use your wording, why is getting to know a woman and dating her for possibly, I don’t know, 3 years not considered a test drive?

To me, seeing how my significant other responds to stress, loves others, loves herself, manages her time, reacts to setbacks, reacts to triumphs, has fun, works with her peers, gels with my family and encourages me is far more important than, in your words, how quickly she accelerates, handles turns and how often she needs pumping before the next fill up.

I’m sorry is your analogy starting to sound vulgar?

I would say that’s not my intent, but I’d be lying. Forgive me for lashing out against a phrase that is jammed down my throat and makes me second guess myself.

I chose to wait because I believe it will set me up for success. Not perfection. I well aware not perfection. If both people in a relationship have never had a “test drive” then won’t they spend less time comparing their experience to other cars? Ones with bigger headlights. Ones with smaller bodies. Ones with different colors? Perhaps some food for thought.

Could I love a woman with a “checkered” past? Yes, yes I could. I’d start by not comparing her to a machine that you buy and when you’re finished, sell.