The concept of virginity is a sh*tty, heteronormative social construct and I’m going to tell you why.
For many people, the definition of ‘losing your virginity’ is a penetrative act between someone with a penis and someone with a vagina. Physically, many would describe a ‘breaking’ of something. On a more abstract level something is ‘lost’, and the people involved (most especially the person with a vagina) are seen as no longer ‘pure’. And because these definitions and ideas are so heavily ingrained everything from sex education to pop culture, even the most liberal minded of us may have to be reminded that this is not the case.
A Broken Idea
Let’s start with the biology, and that physical ‘breaking’ that supposedly occurs. This refers to the hymen, a membrane that surrounds or partially covers the opening of the vagina. I was surprised at aged 21 (that’s four years after I became sexually active, mind) to learn that the hymen is not, in fact, a solid wall guarding my precious lady area. It was not something indestructible save for a penis smashing through, leaving an unfixable hole and a physical mark that I was no longer virginial. It is a flexible membrane that can stretch and contract, and can be broken long before penetrative sex occurs in a lot of people. Masturbation or physical exercise (neither things to avoid!) can tear or stretch the hymen, and in most cases it will already have small holes in it.
This idea of the previously impenetrable wall leads to the preconception that the first time for someone with a vagina will always be painful. For a lot of people (myself included), we’d just grit our teeth and bear it because we’d been taught, both directly and indirectly, that there was no other way. For those who still believe this, I have something to tell you; this is not the case!
Bear in mind that the hymen, through various normal activities, has probably already been stretched or even broken. Through foreplay your vagina will loosen up and lubricate, so if you’re sufficiently ‘in the mood’ it definitely shouldn’t be an unbearable pain. If it is, this is potentially a sign that something is not quite right, and you should stop and seek medical advice. And although during your first time you may feel some discomfort, if it becomes something you are not happy with you should absolutely stop and re-evaluate. If you’re with a partner worth a damn, they should respect that and do all they can to make you comfortable.
What Counts?
All discussion so far has been about sex between a penis and a vagina, which is often all young people are taught about during sex education at school (if they even get that… shout out to Catholic schools preaching abstinence and nothing else! Helped me loads, cheers!). For a lot of young people, this is nowhere near enough information for the other kinds of sexual experiences they may have. And it only enforces the idea that a person can only lose their virginity if there’s a penis involved…
Through discussion with other people of various sexual identities, a recurrent issue brought up by lesbian women is that people do not consider them to have ‘lost their virginity’, despite them being sexually active with other women. Yet gay men are considered to have ‘lost their virginity’ if they have exclusively had sex with other men. Does this mean you forever a virgin until you’ve experienced a penis? (Hint: no)
Good Girls
This concept of virginity goes a long way past the physical. As already mentioned, pop culture plays a big part in shaping the way young people thing about sex and relationships, and in the shows my generation watched as a young adult there is a distinct correlation between morality and virginity. I was recently re-watching an episode of Gilmore Girls, in which [spoiler] Rory’s friend Paris tells her she has slept with her boyfriend. Rory’s mother Lorelei overhears this conversation, including Rory saying she is still a virgin. Lorelei’s reaction to this is to smile to herself and whisper, “I’ve got the good kid.”
At this point in the show, Rory has had two long-term relationships with boys she has been in love with. She is seventeen, nearly eighteen years old, and about to go to Yale university. She puts her studies above most other activities, is well regarded in the community and made valedictorian at her high school graduation. But she would have been a ‘bad kid’ if she chose to have sex?
How often was this rhetoric played over and over in media being consumed by young adults? How well drilled in is this idea that to abstain from sex (presumably before marriage, if even being in love with someone isn’t a good enough reason to have sex with them) is to be ‘good’?
A Self-Enforced Danger
For me personally, the moral weight that my virginity carried for me was a lot of the reason I stayed with an abusive ex-boyfriend. My first penetrative sexual experience was assault, and I remember clearly the white-hot panic of having ‘wasted’ my virginity. I’d always told myself I’d be happy to wait, and that this willingness to wait made me a good person. Having ‘given it up’, even though it was not with my consent, I felt that I needed to tie myself to my partner to make it ‘worth it’. I convinced myself that I had wanted it to happen, that I had led him on, that he loved me so it was okay (the painfully recurrent rhetoric amongst sexual assault survivors). So not only did I not stop what was happening to me when I knew I didn’t want it, I stayed with my abuser for another six months.
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Whether you’re sleeping with men, women or non-binary, whether you sleep with the first person you’re sexually attracted to as a young adult, wait until your wedding night or stay celibate for life, there is nothing wrong providing all parties are consenting and enjoying themselves. There needs to be a lot less discussion on what your ‘virginity’ means and a lot more on having a consenting, fulfilling experience.
