Love & Sex

My First Time

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Female • 30 years old • Ecuador

It was as if I lined up all the eligible bachelors along the wall and said, "Not you… you, no… no… no… no… hell no… ummm… you. Step forward and take off your pants." I had never even kissed him before, knew almost nothing about him except that he was the shyest, most awkward person I had ever met. I had a sense he was honest and safe, but that's about where it ended. He also had a girlfriend in another country.

Illustration by Thomas Pitilli

I was thirty, quickly moving past anything that could resemble "my prime" and had recently come to the conclusion that the religion of my youth was no longer relevant. Shortly thereafter, I realized I now had a problem: my virginity. When I met a new guy, I never thought of the usual questions that run through a girl's mind. "Is he nice? Is he hot?" Instead I thought, "Can I explain this to him?" My virginity felt like a barrier in the way of normal relationships, the albatross around my neck. Any guys I'd been interested in ran for the hills when I brought out the V-card.

My friends told me to be patient, but I was so over waiting. One night, I invited a random gentleman home with me. I had no intention of telling him anything about my sexual history. My plan was basically to fuck him and forget him. I was angry and reckless. The logical side of me had worked out the details and decided this was the best course of action. But at the absolute last second, my heart said no, and shockingly, I listened.

After this I decided on two things: one, it was important that the man know I was a virgin, not for him but for me, and two, I wanted somebody safe. That's it. No commitment. No drama. No possibility of my imprinting on him like a baby duck, as everyone thought I would. Just a safe place for me to feel whatever I needed to feel at that moment. So, reluctantly, I waited. Losing my virginity was honestly and truly the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It felt like the final nail in the coffin of something on which I'd based my entire existence for thirty years. And it was fucking scary. But when I finally did, I felt nothing but relief.

As for the actual event, it was fairly anticlimactic. (Pun not necessarily intended.) But he was perfect. He was sweet, gentle and caring. He went out of his way to make sure that I was sure of my decision and would not regret it later. He was everything I asked for and nothing more.