Brace yourselves, y’all. I’m going to talk about women’s private parts. And you can wrinkle your nose all you want, but I don’t see any of you complaining when I discuss, in graphic detail, the male genitalia I’ve played with and what I’ve done to them.
*Note: If I own you, currently have or may have any future plans to play with you, or interact with you in person on a somewhat regular basis, this is required reading, and fuck yeah I may quiz you on it.
You read that right. Virginity isn’t a thing. It’s not real. There is no “popping a cherry.” There is no “deflowering.”
None of that has any basis in actual, anatomical reality. It does not exist.
Here’s a “Pop” Quiz (see what I did there?). It’s geared specifically towards men, although recent conversations have shown me that an alarming number of women don’t know much more about it than men do. And no cheating. I want to know what you know, not what Google knows.
What is a hymen?
A) A barrier used to determine whether or not a woman has had vaginal intercourse.
B) A thin, stretchy membrane covering the opening of the vagina, punctured the first time a woman has intercourse.
C) An organ that serves to protect prepubescent girls from bacterial infections.
D) An elastic ring of tissue around the vaginal opening.
E) All of the above
F) None of the above
What was your answer?
Was it E? All of the above?
If so, congratulations, you know as much about a woman’s body as a 12-year-old boy who just finished the half-hour “Abstinence Only” sexual ed course his school required.
Reality check. The answer is D. That’s it. It doesn’t cover the vagina. Seriously, guys. Think about that for a second. Think about a woman who has sex for the first time at the age of 19.
She started puberty at 11. Which means she started having periods at 11.
Go ahead, cringe, wrinkle your nose, squirm uncomfortably in your chair, whisper “Gross, gross, gross,” to yourself over and over, or whatever it is you do whenever you’re confronted with the idea of a woman’s period. I’m serious. Get it all out of your system. Go on, I’ll wait.
So, if you actually think about a period without being grossed out, and in effect (and very effectively, I might add) telling the women around you that their bodies are dirty, and undesirable, and something they should be ashamed of, then you’d realize that for the 8 years between the start of her period and the “loss of her virginity,” a membrane blocking the vaginal opening would’ve prevented her from bleeding.
News flash, gentlemen. We don’t like periods any more than you do. That’s not something we look forward to (unless we don’t want to be pregnant, and then we’re going to the bathroom every ten minutes, hoping to see even the tiniest hint of red, because holy fucking hell we don’t want some kind of obligatory connection with you for the rest of our lives). It’s goddamn inconvenient, and uncomfortable, and we get annoyed as fuck when it comes early and ruins our clothes or our sheets.
But we can’t get away from it. It’s a part of our bodies, and we learn to just try to hide it when men are around, because we’ve been convinced that men don’t want us when we’re bleeding. We find gentle ways to say it, in an effort to avoid the grossed-out expression we know is coming, even from grown-ass men. Even from married men.
So we deal with it. Bitching about it and being grossed out by it isn’t going to do us any good. Just deal with it and move on.
No, hymens don’t block the vaginal opening (except in very rare cases, which need to be surgically fixed), and they are not an indicator of virginity. They can be torn by using a tampon, doing gymnastics, running, doing pretty much any kind of strenuous physical activity.
But here’s the thing. While they are fragile, in the vast majority of women, they are elastic enough to accommodate a penis. Her own natural lubrication plays a huge role in this. If she’s aroused enough, there is less friction, and therefore a significantly smaller chance that it will tear.
So, ladies and gentlemen, a hymen is not supposed to tear during intercourse. In fact, less than half of women bleed at all the first time they have sex.
It’s not supposed to tear during sex. And it’s never supposed to be painful, even if it does tear (the hymen doesn’t have nerve endings).
That bears repeating.
There are no nerve endings. A woman’s first time is not supposed to hurt. At all.
So if you’ve ever “taken a girl’s virginity,” and it was painful for her, then congratulations, you did it wrong and caused her pain for no reason, other than to feed your own ego (and because you sucked at it, and couldn’t get her turned on). And what’s worse, you bragged about it to your buddies afterward.
Another fun fact, the hymen can sometimes heal. And hymens come in all different shapes and sizes. Some women are even born without one.
So why is there so much misinformation out there?
Mostly because people just don’t want to know. There’s so much stigma regarding a woman’s body. Even women don’t know much about their own anatomy, and I was guilty of that when I was pregnant, and learned quite a bit about my body that I hadn’t known. I was stunned by the sheer volume of shit I didn’t know about my own damn body.
Look at magazines like Cosmopolitan. You see articles like, “11 Things Women Wish Guys Knew About Giving Blowjobs,” and “How to Be a Good Girlfriend,” or “What Every Woman Thinks Before Faking an Orgasm.” But rarely will you see anything about the vagina. And even when you do, it’s a humorous video titled, “Watch Straight Women Touch Another Vagina for the First Time.”
Even women freak out when being confronted a vagina, because it’s been pounded into our heads that it’s gross, and that indoctrination has been so successful that many women legitimately believe it. Women aren’t encouraged to get to know their happy place, and it doesn’t help that much of it is difficult to see without a mirror and some contorting.
Here’s a scary fact: Even the average gynecologist knows precious little about the hymen. Because, relative to the vastly complex system that makes up female genitalia, the hymen doesn’t seem to serve much of a purpose, and doesn’t warrant much attention, other than learning where it is and if something’s wrong with it. No one really knows what its purpose is, or why it’s there.
People told you that it tears when you have sex, and that it’s supposed to tear, and it’s supposed to hurt, and that it represents a woman’s virginity, and we all have accepted this as truth.
And it’s alright, I get it. Even I didn’t know much about it until I was an adult. And it doesn’t help when sources that you probably trust (like the New York Times or Huffington Post) perpetuate the myths about the hymen.
So where did the misinformation come from in the first place?
Pedophilia, mostly. Back in the day, girls were married as soon as they hit puberty (or even before), often to adult men. It’s a size thing. Imagine shoving a bowling ball into the leg of a pair of nylon stockings.
Yeah, shit’s gonna tear. It’s gonna be painful. It’s gonna bleed.
But for an adult woman, having sex with an adult man, even massive cocks shouldn’t tear it (so don’t go thinking you hurt her because you’re “just that big.” You did it wrong. Own it and move on).
And it’s a way to further objectify women (and not the fun, kinky objectification). Even now, a woman is somehow considered more valuable and more pure if she has an intact hymen, and many women will even pay insane amounts of money and endure quite a bit of pain for a surgery to have their hymen restored for their husbands.
Which is a scam, by the way. They basically put in what amounts to one of those blood capsules that you use to paint your face at Halloween. And it’s recommended that you have sex a few days after, at the most, because otherwise the capsule will break on its own.
And even now, doctors report parents often bringing in their daughters, asking them to check if they’re still virgins. As recently as 10 years ago, in the great state of Alabama, a mother killed her 12-year-old daughter when she found out she wasn’t a virgin.
Pretty much all religion puts virginity on a dangerously high pedestal, and even the more progressive religious beliefs imply that a virgin woman is somehow better than one who isn’t. For example, some Orthodox Jews believe that an “experienced woman” is given a sexually clean slate when she’s married, and becomes a “spiritual virgin,” with all of her previous carnal sins wiped away.
And as fucked up as that sounds, that’s actually pretty damn progressive compared to many other contemporary religious views.
But it’s not just religion. In 2013 a Brazilian woman tried to sell her virginity for 1.5 million dollars. That same year, an impoverished Cuban woman sold her daughters’ virginities in an effort to make money.
What’s more, just think about the terminology associated with this act. She lost her virginity. He popped her cherry. He took it from her. She was deflowered.
Jesus, that doesn’t sound romantic at all. It sounds violent. And goddamn terrifying.
Even now, virginity is something women are supposed to be proud of. They’re supposed to “save themselves” for marriage. While virginity in men is shamed and ridiculed (40 Year Old Virgin, anyone?).
But no one wants to acknowledge that the reason we feel this way is because we’re clinging to a tradition designed to treat women as commodities to quite literally be bought and sold.
It’s so bad, that even I believed it as a young adult. All the guys I’d dated up to that point (and all except one after), were grossed out by it, or just wanted to ignore it, and of course there was no sex during that time. I was gross for four days. I didn’t even try.
Only one didn’t say “ew,” or cringe, or wrinkle his nose, or do anything to imply that my body was gross, and something to be ashamed of.
You may have read about him, he was the 44-year-old I fucked straight out of high school, and after two months, he knew more about my cycle than I did. And this wasn’t a fetish of his or anything. He was just a regular, vanilla guy who understood that it’s an inescapable annoyance, and that I wasn’t somehow “less hot” 4 days out of the month.
And I’ll never, ever, until the day I die, forget the way it felt that first month, when he reached for me and I pushed him away, saying, “I’m on my period.”
Because even I, on a subconscious level, felt the responsibility to tell him, because he, like every other man I’d been with up to that point (it’s a miracle I got through high school without an STD), would of course not want to touch me when I was bleeding. I needed to tell him right away, before he even started kissing me, because I thought it would be unfair to get him all worked up, and then disappoint him when he found out and realized that sex was out of the question.
He looked genuinely confused by me pulling away, even when he reached for me a second time. He sort of furrowed his brow and said, “Okay, so?”
And I had no idea what to say to that. What did he mean, so? I mean, he did hear me correctly, didn’t he?
Trying to find a response to that made me acutely aware of how ashamed I was of my own period. My own body. Finally, I half mumbled something like, “It’ll be messy.”
He shrugged and said, “So? I have towels, and I have a shower. We’ll lay some towels down on the bed, and we’ll take a shower together after. I don’t see the problem.”
His reaction will stay with me forever, and I fully admit that every single man since then who has been confronted with that same situation (which, admittedly, hasn’t happened in a couple of years) is held up and compared to B, and every single man has fallen drastically short.
Now, is that something I fault those men for? Not necessarily. They were brought up the same way I was, the same way most women were. I had my eyes opened when I found myself trying to explain why I shouldn’t have been as desirable while I was on my period, but personal experience has shown that men like B are very few and far between.
And I don’t blame them for that. That alone has never stopped me from loving, dating, owning, or (in Kazander’s case) marrying a man. I know I can’t change Kazander’s mindset. And he’s gotten better about keeping his mouth shut, and keeping his opinions to himself.
The point is that Kazander, and men like him, are grown and set in their ways. I can’t change him. But I can do my part to make sure that attitude dies with him, and the next generation of girls never has to feel that kind of shame.
And yes, if you’ve ever wrinkled your nose, mocked her behind her back with your buddies, or said, “Gross” when you found out it was her time of the month, or just don’t want to know, and pretend to ignore it, then yes, you’re treating women like commodities, teaching them that they should be ashamed of their bodies, crushing their self-esteem, and reinforcing the mindset that a woman’s value is tied into her sexuality and her ability to be pleasing to a man.
Which, incidentally, also applies to those assholes who give women shit for breastfeeding in public. “You’re using your breasts for something other than my sexual gratification? That makes me uncomfortable, and I must tell you how gross it is, because I am only capable of seeing you as a thing to be looked at and hit on.”
So it’s not surprising that completely fictional things like female virginity are still regarded as fact. It’s not surprising when roughly half the world’s population simply doesn’t want to think or talk about a woman’s vagina, except for how it feels when they put their dick in one.
In reality, female virginity is exactly the same as male virginity. There is no anatomical difference between a male virgin and an experienced male, and there is no anatomical difference between a female virgin and an experienced female.