A lot has happened since my last post. My boyfriend, who I’ve mentioned in previous posts, is now my fiance. He proposed a few days before our college graduation.
After the announcement, my mother took me aside the next day to talk to me about sex as she sometimes does in the hopes of influencing me in that area. She said, “I hope you’ll continue with your previous promise to wait until marriage.” (A decision I’ve discussed in a previous post, and which I made under a lot of peer pressure.) She added, “I know you know who you’re going to marry now, but it’s really meant for marriage, and diseases can still spread.”
I didn’t argue, but I found it telling that her only argument in support of restricting sex to marriage was to avoid STIs. While that argument does have some merit for most people, when you’re engaged, it’s not as strong. Sure, people do sometimes call off engagements–but not frequently. More likely than not, two engaged people having sex are already monogamous, at least in this culture, and will continue that monogamy into their marriage. Ultimately, maintaining monogamy is what limits the spread of STIs when one waits until marriage, not the contract itself. The marriage contract is just a legal document. It’s not a condom.
That conversation with my mother reminded me of a fact that I would never have believed when I started college: I’m glad I didn’t wait to have sex, mainly because of how difficult and even painful the first time really is for many girls–including me.
For this post, I’ll be sticking to a discussion of vaginal intercourse because that’s the type of sex that Catholics consider to be acceptable in marriage, since it can lead to babies.
If you don’t want to read about vaginal sex in detail, skip the next paragraph.
Vaginal sex can hurt a great deal the first time for many women, but it can also hurt the second, third, fourth, fifth, etc. You probably know all about hymens and how they need to be stretched (not popped–that’s a myth!) the first time. What not everyone knows is that for some women, it can take more than just the first time to stretch that darn thing. I did my research, so I went into it with some preparation, and it still hurt really badly for me. It wasn’t an issue of the other usual problems either. We were very thorough. We used plenty of lube, and foreplay, and went very slowly. It sometimes felt like someone was stabbing me down there. It took many tries on different occasions for the pain to finally subside to the point where he could stay in there for more than a minute. I made myself do it because I knew it was supposed to get better, but sex was varying levels of pain for the first month or two. We couldn’t even focus on figuring out how to make it feel good until the pain was out of the way, and that later task took some time too.
My reason for going into so much detail is to establish the length of time it took for sex to start to feel good for me, and why that was the case. I’ve looked it up online, and while this is not the case for every woman, it is a fairly common complaint. It’s completely biological as far as I can tell, and in my case was definitely not due to just not being good at it. We knew what to do; we just couldn’t actually do it for a really long time without putting me in agonizing pain.
Waiting until marriage would not change that for me. I would still experience a great deal of terrible pain every time I had sex for the first however many times. If we’d waited and had a week long honeymoon, sex would most likely hurt me every single time we did it that week, and even when the pain had subsided, it still would not feel good for months afterwards while we tried to figure out what works. I can’t imagine spending my honeymoon like that. Frankly, who would want to?
Growing up, I was sold the idea that waiting until marriage makes your first time special, but I now realize that even if I had done that, I would still experience the intense pain and the incredible frustration my fiance and I felt at the time, just during our honeymoon instead of while we were dating. Trust me: pain is not romantic. It sucks.
The only thing that waiting until marriage would change is the situation in which we were having sex, not the biological factors of sex itself. I don’t want to spend my honeymoon in agony. I don’t want to walk out of the wedding reception nervous about going to bed with my husband. And thanks to that horrible, forbidden thing called premarital sex, I now know I don’t have to.
But what if it isn’t special, you say! What if having done it before takes away the novelty of it?
You know what else takes away the novelty of anything? Agonizing pain. We’ll find our own way of making it special when the time comes, but trust me, at least in my case, that novelty was completely overrated.
I feel bad for women who are built like me down there, who wait until marriage. They’ve been sold this image of a magical first time, but for them, it won’t be magical at all.
This is not to say that having premarital sex is for everyone. I support the right of all people to decide for themselves what to do with their bodies, and that includes waiting to have sex if they feel that’s best for them. If you don’t feel ready, don’t do it. If you really want to wait until marriage, then by all means, wait. But be advised that for many women, that first time is completely overrated. If you’re going to wait until marriage, make it an informed decision, just as your decision to engage in sex should also be.
What are your views on premarital sex? Feel free to leave a comment. Just be respectful and think things through before posting.