By the time I got to college, I was super ready to lose my virginity. I’m not saying I was getting drunk and passing by the frats propositioning myself. Mostly because I can’t drink alcohol without getting nauseas and I don’t own any sexy clothes. Otherwise I totally would have. Basically, I was sick of being a virgin and fake laughing at sex jokes because I had no idea what they were referring to. (My mom would make us do this thing where if we laughed at a sex joke she would demand, “Explain it to me” to see if we really understood the joke. I could never explain it).
So, when I started dating a couple months into freshman year, I was hormonal, horny, and ready to lose it. While the stereotype may be that guys have sex on the brain and girls are coy, I had the opposite experience. My boyfriend (we’ll call him Todd. Todd seems like a nice name) had never had sex before either, but his religious background gave him all that good ol’ fashioned Christian guilt. Since I grew up with absolutely zero religious guidance, I was like, “C’mon, let’s do this thing.” (This post just inadvertently became fuel for the argument of bringing your kids to church). At one point during a make-out/dry hump/awkward rubbing session, my hand started to take things to the next level when Todd stopped me. He looked right into my eyes and asked, “Wait. Do you love me?” In this moment, I knew my answer would dictate what would happen next, so… I lied. I looked right into his eyes and said, “Of course I love you”, and the next thing you know I’m down to my underwear. And that’s how I first said “I love you.” To get into someone’s pants. Yes, I know I’m terrible. I was taking advantage of poor Todd and didn’t stop to think about the consequences. Well, his consequences. I was perfectly fine with my sexual choices, but Todd was apparently experiencing moral crises almost nightly. Hell’s gonna be great, you guys.
A couple months later we finally did the deed. Or I thought we did. I really wasn’t sure. We were both naked. And our, you know, private parts were touching and definitely moving against each other. It was like watching two dogs meet at a park, running in circles and sniffing each other’s butts and all that jazz. You’re probably laughing at my ignorance of what sex should be, but how the hell was I supposed to know what it should feel like?! Neither of us had done it before and porn can only teach so much. So we did this non-penetration thing for a couple weeks, and neither of us really talked about it but there was definitely a sense that something wasn’t quite right. And then, totally by accident, it happened. And I instantly knew. Because that shit hurt. (This is coming from the girl who cried the first time she put a tampon in). I guess the rest is history. Weirdly, I don’t regret anything. There’s a lot of talk about “saving yourself for the right person”, and sure, that may work for some people, but I just wanted to do it. And, for better or worse (definitely worse, in Todd’s case), I got what I wanted. I’m going to be a horrible mother. But at least I understand sex jokes now!