A Note to Readers:
It’s been a month since my last entry, and I left you wondering where to next. Before I continue with my next adventure, I wanted to make an entry that was a note to you all.
When I first started this column, I was full of excitement. I was excited to put my voice out there, to share my stories, to free myself of the negative title “virgin” and re-brand it. I was excited to liberate myself of holding my pride within for so long, because being a virgin at 21 is something to be proud of. I was excited to grow within my writing and as a person.
Like I said, when I first started I was overjoyed to finally share the stories that I had been wanting to write for so long. I’ve always had this dream of being Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City, but without the sex. You know? A column like hers, but instead “virgin in the city”… I would think of something more original, but you get the point. While I’m still excited to write, it’s been pretty hard lately.
Draft after draft, I hate everything I come up with. I thought that maybe I was in a rut, and needed to step away from stories for a bit. When that didn’t work, I thought maybe I had writers block. So, when I went to my writing spot (this beach hideaway with the best view) I sat down with my journal, and just started. When I finished it was a ramble about how hard it can be to put yourself out there, and a mix of me struggling lately with being a virgin and my confidence.
This column is personal. This column is real. It’s raw. It’s me. With that, it is sometimes extremely difficult to write about one of my deepest insecurities. I’ve always been extremely insecure about being a virgin in college, and even one now at age 21. People have asked me ignorant questions like “what are you even waiting for at this point?”, “are you sure you want to wait?”, “he probably won’t end up being your husband”, and the famous “just get it over with”. Comments like these ring in my ears, and honestly used to hurt. It made me think of why I was waiting; why I had made it some big deal to me.
But it is a big deal to me and I am waiting for a reason. I’m not hoping that the guy I finally let swipe my V-Card ends up being my husband, though that would be great, I’m just hoping he is a good guy. I have the worst track record when it comes to guys, and every time I got close to hooking up with them, shit hits the fan. A switch was flipped and he was someone I didn’t recognize. So, I’m thankful that I had a gut feeling telling me to stop because each and every one of them was so wrong.
I’ve come this far with waiting, so yes, I’m sure I want to wait. Everyone has different views on what sex means to them, but to me it’s something special. It is one of the most intimate things you can share with someone. I want it to mean something. I want it to mean something to him. I want to be able to tell my future husband one day that I’m not ashamed of my number. I want to tell my daughter that I waited for the right guy, and she should too.
There are moments when I’m not as empowered though. I hate dating someone new because I have to have the dreaded conversation again, and hope he isn’t a jerk like the rest. I hate putting myself out there and I hate the look I get. With it being an insecurity of mine, so many other dark thoughts come with. I start to beat myself up, and think that it’s me…That there’s something wrong with me… That no guy will ever want to date a virgin.
That comment is true for some. I’ve actually had a guy tell me that it made me less attractive, and another told me that’s the last thing he wanted to hear. How sweet, right?
Breaking out of my writers block, and insecure dark hole, I’m excited to be back. So, thank you for sticking with me through this. It’s a process putting myself out there, but I’m working through it because I have some damn good stories to share.
Until next time,