Our society’s discourse on sex in incredibly reckless.

From an American perspective, the rhetoric is either, “Sex is awesome, and if you’re not having it, your life fails to have any meaning” or “If you’re having sex, you’re a dirty heathen who deserves to burn in eternal damnation.” This is so dysfunctional, and I really feel it does more harm than good. Many of my columns have taken a very actively sex-positive slant, encouraging safe, consensual, fun, enjoyable sex — which of course I will forever support. However, sometimes I think it’s far more interesting to think about the reasons people abstain from sex.

As I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 22, almost a year after I graduated from college. Many of my friends also remained virgins throughout their entire college tenure. None of us were prudes – we all enjoyed steamy makeout sessions and poor lapses in judgment just like our friends who were fully indulging in coitus. None of us were remotely religious, and we didn’t engage in slut shaming. There were definitely times in my college experience where, had I chosen to, I could have just done it and crossed “losing my virginity” off the list. And yet, I was never comfortable enough to go for it. I didn’t buy into the idea that losing my virginity was supposed to be a supremely remarkable experience, complete with fireworks, rose petals and dubious in-the-moment declarations of love. However, I knew that I wanted it to be with someone I placed a modicum of trust in, and more importantly, I wanted to be confident that I could make it through the experience unscathed and still comfortable with myself – after my first kiss, I was so anxious that I couldn’t even go to sleep that night. I was overwhelmed with nausea, I couldn’t stop shaking and I felt like I had given away a part of myself to someone who didn’t appreciate it. All of that was following only some kissing and boob action, so of course I was extremely hesitant to bring penetration into the mix. That hangup aside, I was pretty content doing almost anything that didn’t involve a P near my V or my A.

By my senior year of college, I was idly starting to worry. I mean, it seemed pretty strange to leave college still clinging to my virginity, and I was kind of concerned that guys in the future would pick up on my lack of experience and think I was damaged goods (no, I wasn’t evolved enough to realize that a guy like that is not someone I should be interested in banging anyway). I’m really glad I didn’t bow to any external or internal pressure to swipe my v-card just to get it over with, but it worries me to think of how many women (and men) end up having sex way before they’re ready just because of some arbitrary social expectation that they should. Yes, sex is a great thing, but it is also incredibly personal. We all (to be totally cheeseball) blossom at different times, and I wish that virginity wasn’t as stigmatized as it is. Some people are pretty content with being virgins while still leading enjoyable, fun, robust lives (intimate and otherwise), so can we put a moratorium on policing other people’s sexy times?

[Image via Kamira/Shutterstock]

Most guys get to college and lose their virginity faster than you can say “Mom, just leave already and stop reorganizing my shower caddy!” Let’s be honest, having a V-Card on top of a freshman ID card is social suicide. At least, according to all the guys who claimed to lose it their freshman year of high school (Can we all say together: yeah right!). But there are some guys that not only wait for the right girl, but they wait all the way to marriage. Like Tim Tebow.

Tim Tebow is famous for two things. Being an amazing football player and being a virgin. I don’t watch football, nor do I watch Virgin Diaries and even I know that. So after hearing his name nonstop this week I decided it was time to take action and take his virginity.

But only on one condition. That enough people retweet the below:

And if we define enough as 13 retweets, then it’s official. I’m taking Tim Tebow’s virginity. Tim, the ball is in your court. Call me.

While we wait for Tim and I to set a date, here are some photos of my new beau:

So you think you’re fat.

Rihanna gets hospitalized.

Kelly Clarkson is not a lesbian.

How old were you when you lost your virginity?

We know who the Slutty Pumpkin is!!

Take a peek at Leo DiCaprio as Jay Gatsby.

What did Beyonce decide to wear for Halloween?

Someone feels sorry for you, Edward Cullen.

How to decorate a dorm room.

You know what talk I’m talking about. The one where your mom (or even worse, dad) sits you down and then doesn’t know what to say for about five minutes. So there’s this super awkward lead-in and in your 12-year-old mind you’re saying, “What the hell? I just want some chicken nuggets.” And then it hits you. Your mom is talking about sex. Your mom is talking about sex! To you! WTF. You just had your first sex ed class like, two months ago. You hardly even know what all of this means! Stop, Mom, just stop.

But she didn’t stop. You had to suffer through a stilted and shameful speech about the birds and the bees and how you should wait until you love someone and how sometimes you will have really strong feelings for another person but if you act on those feelings you will get pregnant. And die. Blah blah blah.

So after all of this terribleness, you most likely walked away and completely forgot everything that was said (if you even had the courtesy to listen in the first place.) Right? From what I remember, this moment was only a flicker in my early teenage years that was sufficiently awkward and then deftly ignored by all parties involved.

I mean, why do parents think that middle/high school kids are going to listen to ANYTHING they say? If this technique worked, 16 and Pregnant wouldn’t exist. But alas, it does, showing parents across the world that kids basically give “the talk” the finger and toss their v-cards at 14.

But I guess everyone has to get the talk at some point in their lives because it makes parents feel like they are doing their job. Even Bieber has a story to tell about this one. It’s just a part of growing up–without the talk, some kids might not even know about the magical world of sex in the first place, and how terrible would that be? Knowledge is power, mom and dad!

How did your mom or dad approach giving you “the talk?” Were you scarred for life afterwards? Was it the most awkward moment of your life? Tell us all the horrific details!

There were so many unaddressed factors — he wasn’t wearing a condom, I wasn’t on birth control, I hadn’t exactly consented…it was atrocious. Naturally, I never spoke to that guy again, and quite fortunately, there weren’t any profound consequences. A few month later, I met a new boy and I decided to have sex with him. It was wonderful. Prior to him, with every single “first” experience with a guy was always somewhat traumatic after the fact. I would just feel so anxious, nauseated, and unable to sleep because I would be shaking so hard. This was completely different — I felt calm, content, not upset with myself, and actually excited about having sex again. I think that’s how everyone’s first (and second, and last) experience should be, and this is how I would go about making it happen.

1. Make sure you’re ready.

Hi Dude,

I’m finishing up my sophomore year in college and I’m STILL a virgin. I’m not the prettiest pumpkin in the patch, but I’m not unattractive either. I’m confident and kind, and I’m not at all clingy. To be honest, I  haven’t had very many (zero) serious relationships. But also, I don’t want my first time to be a fairytale… A wham-bam-thankya-ma’am would be fine. Just, ANYTHING. But, I can’t, like, go out and act all slutty, go home with some guy and then be like, “Oh, by the way, I’m a virgin.” But I can’t not tell him either… because then what happens when he goes for it, things get all bloody, or I scream or something?

I need help, Dude. My gut tells me that I should chat up one of my guy friends and be like, “Hey, I’m tired of being a virgin, so, let’s f*ck.” Although, that could end horribly.

Bottom line, I want to get this over with so I can start having fun. Please, Dude, tell me how to go about this. (With hopefully as little drama as possible.)

Thank you!!!
- The Twenty Year Old Virgin

Dear The Twenty Year Old Virgin,

How to lose a virginity in 9 steps:

1. Start with the mantra: “I will lose my virginity.” Repeat 10 times daily.

2. Go to a public place where eligible heterosexual males are known to socialize.

3. Pick out one of these males that has strayed from a pack of several (unless you are likewise in a pack, in which case you may all approach together or divide and conquer as a unit)

Optional: Order and consume alcoholic beverages together.

4. Say to said male: “Want to get out of here?”

5. Take him to a private location.

6. Have condoms on you of various sizes.

7. Make the first move.

8. Don’t stop making moves.

9. Break hymen.

It doesn’t have to be a bigger deal than that if you want to git ‘er done. But it sounds to me that by trying so hard to treat it like it’s nothing, you’re actually building it up into a big ass something.

Notice in my 9 steps 2 things were missing: the male mentioned was NOT a friend. Second, there was no point where a confession was made that you’re a virgin. Because the former leads to Gossip Girl-esque drama and the latter is nobody’s f*cking business but yours.

If you bleed? So be it. If you scream? So what? You don’t have to “warn” a guy that you’re a virgin. If you’d feel more comfortable telling him that you are, then of course do that. But you do not need to wear a scarlet V on your little black dress.

There are plenty of young twentysomethings who haven’t turned in their V-card yet. Ladies and men. I’ve known plenty of so-called “pretty” girls that for one reason or another haven’t gotten laid and girls who you wouldn’t go near with a 20 foot pole covered in Lysol that have a stable of stallions to choose from. The underlying factor: confidence. And what’s the key to confidence? Accepting who you are and who you aren’t.

If it’s not a big deal then the next guy you talk up and get the urge to hump, take initiative. To 4 out of 5 guys at 1am on a Friday/Saturday night, “let’s get outta here” is an offer they can’t refuse. It really can be that simple, if you want it to be.

On the other hand, if this is about your comfort then spend a little time working on that. Embrace your virginity! Love it, lick it, touch it, feel it, take it for a walk, write it a song, break it’s heart, make a new heart, just don’t make it something it’s not: a freak flag.

And, if you’re concerned about a guy freaking out over waking up to soiled sheets then get yourself a battery operated fantasy friend and break it yourself (while having so much fun you may question why a man’s necessary in the first place). Really, though, that sorta stuff isn’t as common as you think.

Don’t sweat being virtuous. It’s as big of a deal as you make it. And if others try to give you s*it over it, drop ‘em faster than Lindsay dropped boys. Losing it is all a matter of opportunity meets preparedness. Either make your own or wait for the right one to come along. The gate swings both ways.

Flying the flag proud,
El Dude de Guadalupe

[Isn't he amazeballs? Sigh, we know. Too bad he's taken. Check out The Dude's other insights into the male mind right here.]

Oh, and while we’re on the subject, what is virginity, anyway?

Meet the women who changed love and sex forever

What did the internet do before cute kids?

So fun study…women dress like mannequins

What would you do if a guy gave you these?

What I would give to see Lady Gaga’s closet

Who cares if Zac Efron is gay?

7 ways to deal with a bad day

Is it bad to be a virgin in your 20′s?

Ask an abortion provider

10 douchebag things guys do to turn girls off

HAHAHA

Meet Hollywood’s hottest bad boys

The Charlie Sheen problem just keeps getting worse

This is definitely a WTF

11 steps to glowing skin

So basically guys were never NOT douchebags

15 flashmob videos on Youtube

[He Said/She Said is a new series designed to help all our wonderfully confused readers figure out what he’s really thinking. So every week we’ll be throwing out a topic for debate…and unlike our fave dude, these guys won’t be sugar coating anything for you. But before you jump into their heads (which seriously will make you feel like you need to shower), check out what we think!]

I was with my boyfriend for three months the first time sex (and, simultaneously, something else, if you know what I’m sayin’….) presented itself. It was his birthday, we were in his bed, neither of us were wearing clothes, and after an hour of a whole lot of other stuff, I was ready for it.

And it was my first time.

“Baby, let’s do it.” I breathed into his ear. Yes, I know it wasn’t the most eloquent proposal, but gimme a break. How many of you are poets between the sheets?

He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. I expected some romance. Not like John Mayer would walk in and start playing in the background or that we’d have the kind of intense sex I’d seen (far too many times) in The Notebook. But, you know, I thought he’d be happy about it. I did not expect:

“OK, but I don’t want you to get all clingy and stuff.”

Uh. Yeah. That happened. And I slept with him anyway. And continued to date him for another 3 months. The thing is though, I didn’t blame him for thinking that way. First, the kid was kind of dumb. And second, he’s not the only guy that assumes that a virgin becomes instantly attached to the first guy she sleeps with. Guys are conditioned to think that way from the moment they have their first erection. They assume that all girls think of their first time as some magical moment and that they’ll live happily ever after with the first guy who put it in.

They don’t realize that many of us are just looking for someone we feel comfortable with. Someone we trust to see us in that most vulnerable moment. Someone who won’t slander our names when we make them stop because it hurts so effing badly, or run from the room when they see the unsightly virgin stain on their sheets. There are a lot of things girls have to deal with when they lose their virginity and many just want to make sure they’re dealing with those things with someone who, I dunno, knows their last name.

For guys, on the contrary, losing their virginity is easy. Hell, I’m sure that many of us have slept with virgins and didn’t even know it. I mean, there are plenty of experienced guys out there who are terrible in bed or finish in less than a minute, so how are we supposed to know if that’s because it’s their first time or they just suck?

And even if we do know we’re about to go to bed with a virgin, do we care? Not really. The only reason we’d even question it is because we’re worried his inexperience might leave us hurting more than our first Spin class/walking funny for days. But in reality, most girls don’t give much thought to taking someone’s virginity. And of the ones that do, many love the idea of being someone’s first. We like knowing that this guy is clean, he’s not a total player, and that we can have total control of the situation. And control in the bedroom is HOT.

Look, it’s 2011. For most people losing your virginity is a big deal, yes, but it should be a big deal to the person losing it, not the person they’re losing it to. If someone is choosing to give me their V-Card, more power to them (but good luck ever finding someone who’s gonna rock their world as hard as I do); I’m not gonna freak out that they’ll be proposing marriage in the morning. It’s a very personal decision and if they decide that I’m the person they want to have their first roll in the hay with, that’s their call.

Because at the end of the day, it’s sex, and whether it’s their 197th time or their 1st, I’m just excited to be gettin’ some.

Want to see what he said? Check out the male response at COEDmagazine.com.

[Get more He Said/She Said right here.]

Dear Dude,

I’m a college sophomore and still a virgin.  I’ve had my fair share of “almosts” and do enjoy the occasional heavy petting but I have yet to go “all the way.” I’m not waiting for marriage but I am waiting for a serious relationship with someone I can trust. I used to be confident in my decision (I mean, so what?) and felt no pressure to lose my virginity but lately I’ve been feeling like being a virgin is hurting my chances of finding that someone.

The problem is the handful of boys that I’ve started relationships with in college (emphasis on the word started because it never gets very far) initially say they respect the fact that I am a virgin. However, when that boy finds out that I’m REALLY not going to have sex with him (like never, ever) I don’t hear from him again. And when I try to hide the fact that I’m a virgin guys get mad at me for being a “tease” and disappear, too.

So basically I don’t want to lose my virginity because I’m waiting for “the right” relationship but I feel like being a virgin is preventing me from having ANY relationship. It’s a never ending cycle! Everyone around me is telling me to stick it out and wait for “the one,” but the thought of going through my college career without a real relationship is depressing. So dude, why do guys run away when they find out I’m a virgin? How does a virgin get a guy to stick around? Should I just give it up and get it over with? Or should I start filling out applications for the nearest nunnery?

Sincerely,
Not Necessarily DTF

Dear Not Necessarily DTF,

If you don’t want to lose it, don’t lose it. I’m pro-choice, not just when it comes to abortion or virginity but in terms of life. There’s always a choice. What’s unfair is when it feels like the choice you’re making is depriving you of something you want. Which sounds like the dilemma you’re dealing with.

Guys “run” from virgins for a few different reasons and myths: they don’t feel confident enough to be the sexually more experienced partner (because some of them barely have more than you), they’re afraid that a virgin will be bad in the sack (a harsh judgment, but one many a frat boy has made) and then there’s the responsibility factor. When a guy has a choice of taking a girl’s V-card there’s something in them that provokes the thought, “do I want to be somebody’s first?”

For the guys who don’t want a relationship, they might be scared that being someone’s first will automatically give the girl the impression that they’re in a relationship. In this peon’s brain, sex automatically equals commitment.

Another question of responsibility is whether the guy feels comfortable being the measuring stick for the rest of the girl’s life. They think that’s a lot of weight on their shoulders. Again, this is a guy who is NOT looking for a relationship, just a hook up.

The aforementioned 2 examples are acting out of ego and crappy juvenile knowledge gained at their 8th grade lunch table. Like that Mountain Dew reduces sperm count.

Now there is the opposite type of mental midget: the guy who flocks toward virgins. This specimen loves nothing better than to plant his flag. In fact, he plants his flag everywhere he can and sees it as a benevolent act. This is also a creature to be weary of and avoided if what you want is something serious. Handle with latex gloves and a Hazmat suit at all times.

If you put value on your purity (to use a euphemism straight from Sophocles), then treat it with the appropriate value. I’m not saying keep your standards unreasonably high, demanding an IQ, blood, driving, or DNA tests and having them display a detailed financial portfolio with his 5 year plan outlined in Calibri font. But don’t lose it for the sake of losing it. You’re devaluing yourself and it’s a decision that will nag at you, most likely, for the rest of your life, certainly having consequences on the next guy you get involved with.

Lying isn’t the answer either. I’ve written in other columns dealing with the “should I/shouldn’t I” question that lying denotes shame and you need not be ashamed of being a virgin. There are a lot of people in their early 20′s with their virtue intact. So don’t feel alone.

The best thing I can say is this: those who pressure you for something you clearly don’t want to do are not acting out of affection for you. Negative influences like those needed to be confronted and told to chill the f*&k out and let them worry about their own sex lives instead of yours.

You’ve got to make the decision as to who the “right” guy is. I recommend someone who you trust and makes you feel comfortable. A guy like that is out there and if you’re not finding him, it’s probably NOT just about you being a virgin.

Keeping the torch lit,
Marathon Dude

[Don't you just love him? Wish you could get more? You can! Check out The Dude's other insights into the male mind right here.]

Everyone says your first time should be with someone you love. Well, here’s something “everyone” didn’t tell you: just because you lose it with someone you love doesn’t mean you won’t regret it. I certainly do. While I loved Sam very much, it was not at all the right time. When I look back on it, I don’t have a pleasant memory.

I had a really tumultuous relationship with Sam for about six years on and off at the time, which probably was a red flag to begin with. But I was young and in love, and he was “the one.” The timing with us was always wrong. We’d both be seeing other people, but always gravitated back to each other regardless. We would stay up all night on the phone, bitching to each other about anything and everything.

One night we were talking, and the topic of sex came up. He was curious, I think, if I had slept with someone. I was shocked that Sam would even propose the idea that I would lose it to someone other than him. He was relieved; “Good because I love you, and I want to have that experience with you.” That’s funny because he wasn’t a virgin. He had actually lost it to my ex-best-friend, but that’s a whole other story that we won’t get into now.

Then something terrible happened: one of my best friends ended up in the hospital with a fractured skull and was put in a medical induced coma. I was a complete mess, but Sam was there for me. He always answered my calls, no matter what time it was. He comforted me and let me know that it was going to be okay. But it wasn’t. My friend died a week later. When I found out, I immediately called Sam. I worked with my family on the weekends and my mom didn’t want me to drive home myself, so he came to pick me up. I remember sitting on the curb, bawling my eyes out when he pulled up. I got in the car, put my head in his lap, and cried while he drove to my house.

He carried me into my room and sat on my bed, but I felt sick and decided to take a shower. I think I stood there for half an hour just in complete shock. I didn’t know really what was going on. I put on my towel wrap, moseyed back into my room, and curled up next to Sam. I felt safe. He kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips, and before I knew it, we were having sex. I don’t even really remember it because I was so mentally removed from the situation.

He stayed with me that night, which was nice I suppose, but then I didn’t hear from him for a month. I had just lost a dear friend, my virginity, and Sam. Eventually, we talked and moved on, and even dated for two more years. It was not at all what I had wanted, but it happened. I couldn’t change it, I had to move forward, and I did. But still, I wish I had been strong enough that night to say something. To not get caught up in the moment. To take that moment and that act more seriously.

While I regret the way it happened, I don’t regret who it was with. I loved Sam, and he was the right person. I just wish I had waited for the right time as well.