The Vine: January 30, 2013
How do you push yourself into having sex if your body/gut instinct doesn’t necessarily want to? I know from reading previous columns that you’re normally a fan of “getting it over with” with a good-enough candidate rather than waiting for a perfect moment.
Logically and rationally, I would like to experience sex, even boring or bad sex, but I have reservations about it. And no, I’m not 19 or 25, I’m 36 with no particular sexual or relationship experience. I am the worst result of what happens if you tell twenty-somethings to hang in there and be open to possibilities because eventually it will happen (which is what I thought in my 20s and I believed it then, too). I didn’t worry about it much at all, and then I hit 29, my father got sick and died, and I spent the next few years too depressed and sad to worry about sex. I then headed to graduate school and had two years of really being happy and having friends who loved me…however, I hit my 36th birthday and my mother was suddenly horrified and negative about my advanced age. (She’d like grandchildren, I don’t care.)
I’m also away from said friends and have a pretty unhappy and lonely life at the moment, which is adding to the problem of obsessive anxiety and sudden worry about the issue. I am working on fixing the life, so that part isn’t a problem. However, since most of my friends are partnered or parents, and the single ones have at least had some experience, I’m feeling like the isolated, lonely adult who thinks there is something wrong or broken about me. I usually make up some vague stories, depending on who the friends or dates are, to cover my abnormality or freakishness, but it’s always anxiety-provoking once the subject turns to sex and I can’t relax about sexual jokes in case I give something away.
I am fully aware of all the Google results about adult virginity and how the farther above 30 you are, the “weirder” you are, and how you can’t develop as a sexual person if you’re waiting for the perfect partner, etc. I was waiting to feel real attraction, but I don’t think that will happen in my case. There are all kinds of reassuring stories from 20-somethings who lost their virginity late, and occasionally even stories from people over 30; I’ve just never seen someone at my age trying to negotiate sex. I don’t plan to mention it at all – enough reading has convinced me that I shouldn’t trust anyone to be kind about this, whether potential partners, feminists or anyone else. My good-enough candidate is okay but not someone I’m attracted to or like or think about very much, even though we’ve been on 4 or 5 dates.
I think I’m wired backwards – I’m around men for a few months, gradually develop feelings for them, and then sexual attraction is the very last thing that happens. I’m not visual at all, and it can take anywhere from a few months to nearly a year to get attracted to someone as in the really lustful, sweep-you-off-your-feet kinds of feelings. The other problem is that I’ve only been attracted to about eight men in the twenty years or so since puberty – a timetable of roughly every two years, only since the age of 28, it’s been every four years. The last two men have been attractive both emotionally, intellectually and sexually, which was a first, but didn’t return the feelings.
There’s not a lot out there about what to do when your crushes just aren’t requited, besides move on – and after a certain point, most people seem to assume you’re asexual or you just haven’t felt sexual desire. And a few men have liked me (even though I didn’t figure out I was attractive until about 23 or so), but as bad luck would have it, I didn’t like them back. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have just slept with the guy who offered when I was 26, but I wasn’t attracted to him, so I said no (a few make-out sessions in college felt a lot like breast exams at the gynecologist’s, and that’s kind of what I’m guessing sex would be like).
I actually have a pretty normal sex drive, just very little ability to want to sleep with a lot of people, and I think there’s an assumption that interest in sex = wanting a lot of partners or thinking one partner is as good as another. (My therapist does not seem to think that there’s Something Wrong with me.)
Now, I’ve rather given up on sex with mutual attraction or mutual love, so I’m wondering how bad boring or “getting it over with” sex can possibly be. I’m of two minds about it: it feels like I’d at least feel a little more normal to learn that there is no “secret,” and maybe it would open the door eventually to some sort of companionship. I’m not upset about being single forever since I do have friends who love me, and I do realize that true loneliness is dating someone you don’t like and having to pretend it’s love.
But I would also feel like I’d be doing it only to feel normal, plus I’d have to be drunk or think of it like sex work in order to be able to get through it. What say you and the TN readers?
Conflicted
Dear Flick,
A couple of things jump out at me here, starting with this: “a few make-out sessions in college felt a lot like breast exams at the gynecologist’s.” I had many make-out sessions in college, and most of them felt like that, and/or like being greeted by an enthusiastic retriever. College dudes oftentimes just aren’t very good at making out (not that college gals are either, necessarily; I was hardly Dance of the Seven Whatevers myself, but you know what I mean), so that isn’t the greatest evidence for a “the first time is something to be endured” platform.
On the other hand, there’s this: “I’m wondering how bad boring or ‘getting it over with’ sex can possibly be.” Um: it can be pretty bad, I won’t lie. The first time with any partner is a bit awkward; not always, but a lot of the time it’s elbows, and having to turn a too-bright light on to deal with the condom wrapper, and “Could you move up a little bit? …Your other ‘up’?” And the very first time is painful for some women, plus you’re anxious, which doesn’t help you relax down there…a lot of people report that their first time was magical. A lot more people are mostly glad it’s done with.
Not to give you more agita here, but…how to put this. Okay: it’s not exactly a secret that a woman’s first time is often uncomfortable. This is a big part of why I recommend getting it over with; the unknown is the biggest obstacle, and once you know what it is, you don’t have to fear it (plus a major part of the fear, the pain, is probably over with). But I get the sense that you’re looking for reasons not to do it — reassurance that it’s okay to find it daunting, or off-putting, or not a priority, or the validity of any of those rationales.
And if you don’t want to do it, that is fine. “I would also feel like I’d be doing it only to feel normal.” You and almost everyone else on earth, who had no way of knowing whether we were “ready” until we did it, who didn’t want to get left behind (I skipped a grade, I had myriad issues with that). That is fine. “I think I’m wired backwards” — join the club. I’ve had a few partners I didn’t develop a truly deep attraction to until we had sex. It happens. Everyone’s different, there’s basically no “normal,” and that is fine.
If you want to wait some more, wait some more; if you want to strap your pinot on and get it over with with the first likely sailor who comes to port, do that. I would advise you to do it, because you say you understand that it can’t be perfect, but I don’t think you really do. You can’t; you’ve never done it. This is not a judgment, but whatever you think about sex and whatever you think other people think about sex, before you’ve had sex, it’s just passing the time; you have no context.
Again, that’s normal. I did the same thing. It’s a way of controlling a situation that seems very fraught and chaotic (and can be); I don’t think you’re having any inappropriate reactions. But I do think it’s better to do it, and have done it, and maybe have a few things you’d do differently the next time, than to have to keep thinking about it. Your virginity is making you unhappy and taking up too much psychic real estate. You deserve not to have to think about this anymore, because I don’t think there’s any way for you to think about it at this point that doesn’t make you feel alienated and freakish — about what’s essentially bad timing, and not a comment on you at all.
For your own sake, enough. Try it. Understand that it is what it is the first time, but also let yourself be a drama queen about it, a little bit, because it’s a first and it’s intense. (It can also be hilarious. The design of the human penis is puzzling. No offense, penis-havers. Love you guys. I’ve totally lost control of this parenthetical. [kaff] Anyone here from Jersey?) Everyone has Things Around It; accept that and give yourself a break.
And if you don’t try it, the only one who’s going to be disappointed and think you’re all busted and fucked up is you. You aren’t. And the Nation probably has some citizens who were a little…less eager than I? More considered? Waited longer, in any case, and can speak to your situation a bit more directly, so we’ll hear from them.
Short verzh: Do whatever you feel, but in my opinion, you will feel better if/when you have done it.
Readers, let’s do this.
Tags: sex
The vibrator is a wonderful invention that has changed the lives of many many people, BUT not everyone gets much out of it. Definitely try one (or a few) and see if it’s for you; as you can see, many people swear by them, which is great, but if you’re like, “I don’t get what the ladies in ‘Bust’ are on about, this ain’t doin’ it,” it’s not just you.
Not to tell tales, but I had a friend who was into her 40s before she had sex. A lot of the hesitation was built around the whole idea of “how do I tell a guy that I’m 40-something and have basically zero experience without him thinking I’m a freak?” She did it when she got around to it, and is happily married and active today. :)
Nameless:
Absolutely none of my business, but I just want to say. If you do want children, and if you did get them by sperm donor, and if you don’t happen to have sex before that, it would be completely freaking awesome if you were a virgin when you gave birth.
I don’t mean anything deep by that. Just that the chain of events would amuse me, which is rightfully entirely unimportant in the scheme of your life.
Good luck, no matter your path.
Megan:
I have had that thought on multiple occasions, and it amuses me, too!
I was 25, which felt old to me, but I see I was in fine company. I love the comments section on this site!
My own timetable was set by a combination of a religious upbringing, a middling sex drive, and a low tolerance for risk. Plenty of non-PIV sex before then, however, like a handful of the other commenters here — which may make my situation meaningfully different from OP’s. I felt totally unconflicted about not having had that experience until a fling at 21 with a guy who made a Big Judgey Deal out of it, and I spent the next couple of years ruminating on the stuff he said to me, about how relationships don’t count as adult unless there is intercourse, about how it changes everything. Eventually I decided I was ready once I was engaged. It was a good experience and I don’t regret waiting until I actually wanted intercourse. For me, at least, Big Judgey Guy was really wrong about everything: intercourse didn’t change anything about my relationship at all aside from needing to add condoms to the grocery list. And being with someone who didn’t pressure me or make me feel like a weirdo meant everything. If I had adulthood to do again I would do this part exactly as I’ve done it.
Add me to the list of older virgins. I’m 37. It isn’t something I spend a ton of time worrying about, though seeing the few others here does make me feel less of an outlier.
I am totally with you on the taking time to be sexually attracted to a guy thing. Add in a dash of shyness upon meeting people a large glug of introversion and I just don’t date much. It would be nice. I’d like to do the whole marriage and kids thing, I really would. But I don’t need it to define myself so… ehn.
Relevant to our interests — this series from The Hairpin: http://thehairpin.com/2013/01/interview-with-a-virgin-scarlet
34-year-old virgin here, in nearly the exact same situation, although without the college make-out/groping sessions, any past boyfriends or any current prospects. I just wanted to say that reading this and the comments and knowing there are others out there in their thirties and beyond in the same situation has really helped me. I was honestly feeling a bit suicidal regarding my virginity recently, and the crazy thing is I don’t even really *want* to have sex, I just felt like such a freak for not having done it that it’s been eating me up. I feel like I can’t even talk about it with my closest friends because it’s something shameful and makes me less of a woman because no one has been attracted to me sexually. Sometimes I just leave social situations when talk of relationships and sex comes up because it’s so awkward for me.
I hope you find peace with whatever decision you make, and I’ll keep trying to do the same.
As a 36 year old who just turned her ‘v-card’ in this past Summer, it can most definitely be a daunting thing to carry around.
While the support shown here is SUPER awesome, I’ve had good friends (only three of my closest friends ever knew) make comments that nearly made my stoic self cry. Something to the tune of ‘well, who would want to marry a girl who is still a V at that age?’ – of someone younger than me.
The media/societal barrage that comes at you and makes you feel awful because of it is ridiculous. The assumptions made about you are equally horrifying. I never watched, but still hated intensely, 40 Year Old Virgin.
I agree with the folks saying, ‘don’t do it if you don’t want to- you aren’t broken because of it’
I also completely understand that not having to deal with feeling like a freak no matter the assurances is pretty damned nice, too.
Personally, I have a hard time finding a guy that I’m attracted to, that is attracted to me, and that I also don’t find to be a douche, too nice, too much work, or insanely boring.
I already knew that I enjoyed sex with myself just fine. I prefer the Rabbit Habit style to something that is just a dildo for sure, but you may want to work your way up to that. Being extremely comfortable knowing what worked for me made things MUCH, much easier. There was ZERO discomfort, and he was not a small guy.
I also did not say anything to him about being a virgin and had no trouble with him suspecting anything. I felt it would be way too awkward a conversation, so I just spared myself. I know he had no clue because when we had the conversation via text the next day, he was shocked, and I did a fist pump. Heh! Then he made sure (we’d only been out on a few dates) that I wasn’t in love with him. This is what I texted back: ‘HAHAHAHAHAHA! No.’ Come on, dude. Did it seem like I expected you to fall madly in love with me when I left your house like half an hour after??
Also, don’t assume it *won’t* be awesome or that you won’t be awesome at it. I had SO MANY people tell me it would hurt. Not helpful. Yes, the first time was slightly awkward, but speaking my mind on what was working and what wasn’t (or making it obvious without words) made it the same level of awkward that comes from any first time with a partner. By the third time, I inspired something that he’d never experienced before and that my two best friends have never made happen in any of their partners or their husbands. Just because you don’t want to play, doesn’t mean you don’t have game. :)
I also broke up with him not long after. It was pretty casual and it turned out he wasn’t any less boring than the other (few) guys I’ve dated. And I’ve still not found anyone else interesting enough to light my fire. So, don’t expect it to change anything- certainly it isn’t going to change who you are and what you like or don’t like.
I’m not sorry I gave up my v-card, but coming out on the other side of it, I mostly think that it wasn’t worth the time I spent worrying about it, the time other people spend talking about it, and definitely wasn’t worth being with someone boring as hell. Me and my B.O.B. do just fine, and after, I get to roll over and go to sleep without worrying about cuddling or driving home or kicking him out so I can sleep. Everyone is different and not being a V isn’t going to make you someone who thinks sex is the most awesome thing ever.
Isn’t it funny how we always think we are the only one of our kind? For me, and for a lot of people in the comments, thinking I was abnormal and unattractive and having no one to talk to was the worst part. I am 30 and had sex for the first time about a month ago. It was a one-night stand, while on vacation in a different country. It was spontaneous and not really like me (I tend to be reserved and cautious), but I am glad I did it and got it over with. I didn’t tell the guy, and it worked out just fine. He was great.
I don’t really understand the whole “virgins get attached” thing. I knew that this was just one night when I went into it and fully had that intention. He’s the one who was texting me the next few days, not me. Where does that perception come from? To some extent, sex causes anyone to “get attached.”
I sort of had two virginity-losing experiences. I was also a late bloomer, and didn’t have sex for the first time until I was 24 – when I was raped.
So, that made me intensely skittish about the entire activity. But at 26, I decided I needed to see if I was somehow irrevocably broken by the experience, and tried with a very good friend. It was awkward, and I sort of had a panic attack halfway through, but he was wonderful and helped me through it.
We’ve been together for over two years now. So, yeah. Go ahead and just get it over with – if you think some random guy will fit your needs better, just find somebody at a bar or something. If you’ve built it up into a *thing*, try to suss out some of your guy friends. Pose it as a favor they can help you with.
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I lost mine the day before my 19th birthday to a guy whose graduation we were celebrating at a party. I’d met him that night. He had no idea, and probably didn’t care. Alcohol (can be) a great lubricant. I don’t remember pain, awkwardness, or any other bad things about it. I never saw him again. That was nearly 21 years ago.
He was followed by a handful of one-night-stands, and then a couple of long-distance, longish-term relationships, until I found my husband 5 years ago. Ironically enough for this thread, he and I have been, er, at it quite a lot lately because we’ve been trying to get me pregnant for a year. Funny that you spend so much time trying to prevent it that when you’re actually hoping for pregnancy it doesn’t automatically happen.
At any rate, I was piping in to say that sex in my 30s is much, much different than sex in my 20s was, and my partners are different, too. While experience is part of it, I think self-confidence is a lot more of it. Not self-confidence about sex, but self-confidence in general. I know who I am now, and I’m not as keen on trying to be someone else for a my partner. I am comfortable saying what I think, my patience isn’t as good, and I’m not as much of a people pleaser. I probably project that.
As I’ve gotten older, my partners, shockingly, aren’t 18 year olds with rabbit libidos. They have their own hangups and baggage and confidence and acceptance. They’ve (likely) been around the block enough to know that real life and porn aren’t (necessarily) the same thing. They’ve also (hopefully) learned that women aren’t all alike. And if they’ve been with other women past 30, they’re likely used to women telling them what they like, want, and where to put things.
I echo the suggestions to explore your sexuality with yourself. And with several years sometimes between sexual encounters, I learned to love my vibrators and tons of erotic books and websites. (An ipad, it seems, was practically invented to make masturbation to media much easier. Use safe browsing if it’s shared. *ahem*…..) I know exactly, er, how to push my buttons, and I can communicate that to my partner.
But also remember that your age can be a benefit. I sort of look fondly back at the 19 and 20 year old girl that had no clue about anything in life. But I’m really happy that it’s the 39 year old that gets to have sex with my husband. Because damn it is sooooooo much better now. If you’re joining in, you’re joining in at a good time in life.
This is some interesting stuff.
I am a 33 year old virgin. Someone else said it, but when I was in my early 20’s, I figured waiting for the right guy was worth it and now I am too old to do anything too stupid.
And now I am kind of stuck. If I think too much about I panic, but it doesn’t really bother me. It helps that two of my good friends from college also happen to find themselves virgins. I can see that there is nothing wrong with them, so while I might think there is something wrong with me, logically I know that isn’t true.
Some of these posts have given me hope though :)
Lots of good thoughts here, and I hope the LW now knows that she has plenty of company!
I was almost 21 when I lost mine, to a man I met that night and never saw again. I’ll be honest, it was the early 1980’s and I just wanted it done. In retrospect, I wish I had slept with my high school boyfriend who I loved very much, it would have meant more, but we did everything BUT have intercourse. He was great, but I couldn’t get that pregnancy thing out of my head. My family is notoriously fertile.
That being said, I don’t regret the way it happened. I wanted to have sex, but not with someone I knew well. That may sound strange, but I met the guy, was very attracted to him, and decided to go for it. I loved the fact I didn’t have to see him again, he was visiting a friend at my University, so he didn’t even go to my school.
We started fooling around, I did let him know I was a virgin, but we were far enough into things I don’t think he gave it a second thought. He was sexy, funny, kind-now that I look back, I realize I was really very lucky.
Anyway, my thoughts for the LW are to try and get in tune with her own body, I hope she is having orgasms on her own. If not, try and figure out what works for her. I wasn’t able to orgasm with masturbation till I was 40-I was just doing the manual thing, it wasn’t until I started fantasizing while I was doing it that I was able to orgasm. Man, I wish I had figured that out earlier, that would have been super helpful :)
Oh, Conflicted: I’m giving you a mental hug. I lost my virginity …four years ago, at age 25. The last time I had any sex with someone was about four months after that (same dude). So my hang-ups about “oh my god, I’m 21, 22, 25, and haven’t had sex yet! What are guys going to think?!??” have become, “damn it, I haven’t had sex in four years, and it was only with one partner, what are future partners going to think????”
My first real kiss was only a year or two before that (this guy was an on-again, off-again relationship). I’d had crushes and boyfriends before, all the way back to high school, but couldn’t seem to figure out the physical aspects. This was partly because of my upbringing, social awkwardness, my own hang-ups, etc. In fact, I sent a letter to the Vine about it, and other things two years ago:
http://tinyurl.com/ahunun6 (second letter).
So: You are not alone, or weird, or a “late bloomer” or whatever. I know how hard it is to not feel that way (I often feel like there’s a sign around my head that says “Only had sex with one guy four years ago!”). But it’s true, if the comments section here is any indication. And what other commenters and Sars have said is right: even if you had all sorts of sex up until now, the first time with any new partner can be awkward and strange because it’s the first time with that partner
(In fact, I think I read that on a Vine comment once).
In terms of “getting it over with” already: that’s basically how I lost my virginity. I’d been leaning towards doing it for a while at that point (which led to a somewhat hilarious-in-retrospect failed seduction one night) and one night my boyfriend stayed over and we were making out the next morning and then…boom.
(Ooh, wait, that’s bad imagery. Sorry). Later that morning, I met my family for lunch after they had taken my nieces and nephews to see Santa. We discussed a family member’s suicide attempt the week prior. So when I look back at The Time I Lost My Virginity, the significance of it pales in comparison to everything else that was going on at that time. I always thought that I was a loser because I was still a virgin (among other reasons). After losing my virginity, I realized I was still a loser in that the things I didn’t like about my life– job, relationship, my own self-image, etc.– didn’t magically disappear. The Mean Girls at work didn’t suddenly stop giving me a hard time. I didn’t win the lottery. My boyfriend didn’t get over his failed marriage anyway and we broke up again, for good.
Shoot, this is really long. Sorry. You’re not “weird” just because you haven’t had this one experience. If you don’t want to have this one experience (out of millions of other life experiences), you’re still not weird or strange or odd in a bad way. You are you. And we’re all here for you because you’re awesome and we’re an awesome community.
I really, really identify with this. I was 32 the first time I had sex, due to a combination of me assuming people wouldn’t be interested, focussing on the wrong people, etc. I met a guy I jibed with, and it was such a thrill. He turned out to be kind of self-centered and it didn’t work out, but I’m still so very grateful I met him and got over that hump (so to speak). It was actually easy, and the sex was good, and I did not disclose that I hadn’t done it before, because it’s not like I still had a hymen or anything.
A few months later, I ended up in a year-long relationship having awesome sex, but since that ended, I haven’t gone beyond dates. I think I’m missing the ability to hit on a guy, or initiate anything, beyond inviting them into my home and waiting for them to make a move. But, yeah, I’d say have some wine, and just jump into it. I certainly felt like a huge weight had been lifted afterwards.
Please consider working with a sex surrogate. These are professionals with counseling credentials, not just male prostitutes. They can help work with you on physical intimacy issues in a safe, supportive manner.
@auburntiger — Give “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” a chance! While the set-up sounds cheap and judgmental (old virgins, LOLZ!), the character of Andy is handled sensitively and given a back story that makes sense of his sex life.
(Spoiler: he got close a few times when he was younger but had some bad luck, and then the virginity snowballed into what felt like an insurmountable obstacle, which tracks with what a lot of the folks on this board have experienced.)
@turtle, thank you so much for that Responsive Desire link. I think this may finally put to bed (heh) an argument my husband and I have been having for years. Great read.
I also agree with @pomme de terre about “40 Year Old Virgin”…yes, it’s a funny movie, but in the end the joke is actually not on the virgin himself. I bet you’d actually like it.
Chiming in late, and echoing a lot of the comments before unavoidably, but I recognized a lot of myself in some of these too, so sorry for the long comment. Pretty “normal” highschool and college dating and making out–got to third a half dozen times kinda thing, and had no goals or thresholds, assumed I’d lose it much sooner. I was just waiting to want to, simple and yet soooo complicated as evidenced by everyone’s experience.
I’m with others who recommend learning yourself first, better to have that comfort and knowledge before putting someone else in the mix, with hands, erotica, toys, whatever you find works. I’ve enjoyed myself for 25 years and am still the best I’ve had in terms of sheer orgasms as a result.
Then I went to grad school and started working, had not a single date for seven years. I wasn’t that bothered–it wasn’t a priority, I wasn’t interested, no one asked, yada, yada, but some of the usual concerns was I weird, was I doing something wrong, did I want it or did everyone else want me to want it.
I was in my 30’s when I lost it, to a person I met all traditionally at a party and started dating and was completely ready when it actually happened. A comedy of errors in the actual event, but not because of my virginity, and it was still fun and funny and fine, and I knew all over again that I wanted to. I had some of the same aftereffects as others, seeing it as a pleasant activity of many rather than a hurdle, and opening myself and confidence up to others.
I still see him 5 years later when we are in the same country, and I’m still with 3 of the 5 partners after him as well–part of being in my thirties is being ok and discovering what works for me–multiple, long-term, meaningful, but occasional, relationships. I too take months to become attracted enough for sex, and tend to be cerebral rather than visual or body oriented, and you just have to find partners that are of similar feathers or patient and want you enough to wait–they should be awesome enough to realize an enthusiastic partner is worth the slow burn.
Sure there’s a part now that regrets the 20 years of sex I didn’t have, but I also know the sex I’ve had in my thirties and who I am is not who I was then, so it would have been a trade off in quality, self confidence, risk comfort, etc.
Clearly you’re stressing about it, so you certainly have to deal with that, but up to you whether that’s best done by treating it like a bandaid, or just unpacking the anxiety and getting past the worry itself rather than the act–the act won’t change all the other anxieties around dating and life and self tied up with it. But as we’ve all seen, there is no normal, we’re all in the same wackadoo boat and yet the vast majority of us have come out happy healthy humans on the other side, one way or the other.
I am somebody who has only once got physical with someone I was properly attracted to early on. I would be too scared of exposing myself to heartbreak and/or ridicule to get intimate with people who made me giddy (which, like the LW, hardly ever happens).
Therefore I ended up sleeping with people whom I liked and trusted, and who didn’t actively repel me, and then deciding whether I wanted to keep sleeping with them. This would depend on whether I liked the way they touched my body (the penis in vagina stuff took longer to enjoy as my body got used to theirs). And yes, men at college = mostly terrible at touching. Men after college = pretty good at touching, for the most part. So the LW’s 4th or 5th date man may turn out to be someone they really like having sex with. To me it makes sense to give him a try.
“How do you push yourself into having sex…” This letter should have stopped right there. Regardless of WHY you want to push yourself into having sex, you shouldn’t. Sex isn’t something you should do for the sake of doing, or to “get it over with” so you can feel “normal,” or so you can get sexual jokes. Sex is something you should do because, hey, I’m hot for you, let’s get it on. If you’re not feeling it, you’re not feeling it, don’t do it. Sure, we all wake up sometimes and think, “I really don’t want to go to work today” but we push ourselves to get up and go because we have to; work is a responsibility. Sex is not an obligation, it’s a desire. I don’t know why you haven’t found someone that gets your body parts all aflutter, but I do think that you should avoid having sex until you truly want to. Don’t worry about what other people think – this is your body, your life. If people think you’re weird or broken, that’s their problem.
LW here – thanks to everyone who commented. To clarify a few things: yes, I’m quite sure that I’m straight and not asexual, though I’m not sure how many men I’d need to be attracted to to be straight or sexual “enough” for contemporary sexual standards – 50? 100? Snark aside, the demisexual label is a reasonably good one for me – I don’t like the scale to asexual though. In a perfect world I’d just have had sex a thousand times with a few partners than have to find new ones. Never thought of full sexuality as needing both breadth and depth. (I think “Will and Grace” once had an episode about whether “more sex” = “more partners” or “more acts.”)
Second, I do know how to have orgasms – have for 10+ years (thanks to the commenter who mentioned massages, because they are very helpful.) So I have a pretty good idea of what I would like/need from sex. I have watched a lot of porn of all kinds, gay, straight, whatever – apparently who’s having the sex doesn’t matter much to me. One of my problems is that while I had a lowish sex drive as a teenager and sometimes in my 20s, I have a much higher one in my 30s – but that doesn’t translate to being attracted to anybody, which is horribly frustrating. I guess one hope is that having sex, even “meh” sex, would change/shake it up. It’s a little amusing that even this column shows the contradictory assumptions attached to virgins and to sex – “doing it doesn’t change anything /yes it does and you understand sex better afterwards.” I just can’t carry the label, though: it makes me feel powerless and that my feelings don’t matter as much as my partner’s would about my virginity. Not acceptable to me – I just hate being patronized.
My only real issue is dealing with the ridiculousness of pretending to be sexual with someone I’m not attracted to, plus the skin-crawly factor of letting that not-attracted to someone touch me. I expect some booze would take care of that – not the best idea, but the anxiety over this is becoming something I can’t control, even with a therapist.
I read this post when it was first published, and re-read it a few times since, because it was one of the few places I found good advice for someone like me: a virgin who couldn’t figure out how to get the deed done. Thank you to the letter writer, to Sarah and to all the commenters for sharing your stories and advice.
Now I finally have something to add to the conversation. Last week, at age 51, I had sex for the first time. It was a hookup through an online dating app and it was a very good experience. (I didn’t tell him it was my first time because I didn’t want it to be a big deal. If he guessed, he didn’t say.)
It’s not that I’m glad I waited so long, but I know that my first time wouldn’t have been as good when I was younger because I was in a very different head space then.
I started dating again this year as a way of figuring things out about myself, post-menopause and post-pandemic. Sex wasn’t the only goal but it was definitely something I wanted to experience.
Here are some things that helped me get to this point: reading really good romance novels (shout out to authors Courtney Milan and Helen Hoang), buying a vibrator, buying new lingerie, watching the Emma Thompson movie “Good luck to you, Leo Grande” and being honest with myself about what I wanted.
If I could talk to my younger self, I’d tell me this: be a bit braver, a bit more willing to appear foolish, and don’t worry because whatever happens, you’ll be OK.
I love this for the world. Thanks for sharing! (Congrats!)
Thank you for sharing, Finally! I’m really encouraged by what you wrote. For me 10 years later, not much has changed except that at last I gave up trying to push myself into it.
These days, I’m working on plain feeling less lonely (probably common)!