This morning on a random news feed of blogs I should read, the title, “The First Time We Touched Each Other… Naked.” Immediately, I clicked the link. I am human. Humans are attracted to things that are deemed provocative even if we are saints inside these bodies. I am a human. I like nakedness. I like things that are deemed shameful our vulnerable. I like being naked because I have nothing to hide.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always been the outlandish I-have-nothing-to-hide uncensored bold girl. I’ve worn leggings as pants before it was a fad. I dyed my hair red before Hayley Williams made it cool. I speak my mind because I’ve never been afraid of myself… well, almost.
I’m afraid of being vulnerable when someone is not willing to be vulnerable back. Those dreams people have about being naked in front of the school are daunting. I’ve never been ashamed of my body or my humanity. However, when someone else keeps their clothes on and shuts their mouth, I instantly cower back in fear. I am afraid of being transparent when someone is not willing to be transparent back.
Last night, while I was supposed to go get Valentines drinks with a friend, a new guy friend I have known for a month, with whom I’ve developed some sort of feelings for, sat in my room and we talked about life. Well, rather, I talked about my life and he listened. However, when I asked him to be specific in his sharing, he shut up.
I turned something off. Minutes later, he left. He walked away after I was unloading my thoughts and feelings. I confessed my deepest secret of all.
It’s not really a secret as much as it’s that no one really needs to know. It’s really no ones business… but it will cause you to judge me. That’s inevitable. Everyone judges everyone… but to think you are better than someone after they bare their soul is hurtful and unforgiving.
My secret: I’m a virgin.
I am beyond open to talk about sexuality. I grew up in such a manner that set me up to be as open as a good novel or an ice cream shop on a hot day. I’m open. I’m ready. I’m willing. But, virginity is a whole other story. There has always been something about sex that has stunted me. It’s something that has held me back, weighed me down, and kicked me in the balls (metaphorically, of course.. because, last I checked, I don’t have balls.)
In this culture, why is it acceptable to talk about sexuality on television and music and not about virginity? When did being a virgin be deemed so…”dirty?”
I hope to never experience the instant rejection I felt after being transparent as I was last night. I hope this opens up myself to conversations about virginity. Above all, I hope this causes you to get to know me a bit more so we can start a conversation. I want my life to mean something more than just being “that curly red haired girl who can’t seem to lose her V card.” I want it to mean something more.
And I truly hope I sparked some thought in your head today.
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