I’ve been told that waiting until you are married to have sex can be very disappointing — disastrous even. How will you know if you are sexually compatible? Don’t you want to “try it on for size.”
How will you know if he is good at it, you might have to fake orgasms for the rest of your life. It will be miserably painful the first few times — do you really want to be walking around like John Wayne on your honeymoon? I’ve read articles about women who waited until their wedding night to have sex and they deeply regretted it. I’m here to tell you a different story.
I married a 31-year-old virgin. A hot one. Not in a “I sit in front of my computer all day” kind of hot either. Impeccable hair. Muscles. Still has all of his teeth. The real deal. The first time my husband and I had sex was on our wedding night. It was painful. Uncomfortable. A little awkward. At one point we weren’t even 100% sure we were having sex. Is it in there? We were moving slower than molasses, neither of us even broke a sweat. I was making Frankenstein-esque sounds that resulted in “are you okay?” being the most commonly used phrase on our wedding night. I wasn’t proving to be the sex goddess I’d waited my whole life to finally embody.
So, no, our first night together didn’t include wildly, screaming, orgasmic sex. But I’ve never once regretted waiting.
Was it discouraging? Sure. Was I disappointed? A little. Did I wish I’d had “more practice?” Not once. Sure, I could have had meaningless sex with men and killed it in the sheets on our wedding night. Instead, I get to spend the next hundred years learning with my best friend. We get to experience and figure this sex thing out together, growing and discovering that sex is kind of funny. We get to laugh at the fact that we are two grown adults researching about this conspiracy theory that is the “g-spot.” That we ambitiously went through 52 sex-position flash cards and could only successfully pull off one.
People always ask me why I waited so long to have sex. It wasn’t that I was scared or afraid to have sex. I never thought sex was bad or dirty. It was the opposite. I knew that sex was good. That it was brilliant. I knew that sex united people. Uniting the heart, the mind, the soul… the flesh. That it was the connecting of two souls. That it was the most powerful and dynamic relationship that existed. I wanted this. My soul wanted to have this deeply spiritual connection. The problem was finding someone whose soul I wanted to be connected to. Someone true. Someone I respected. Someone who would take the time to earn my trust. Someone I was proud to say had a piece of me. Someone who was faithfully committed to me.
Someone I knew was going to still be there when I woke up the next morning, and the next morning, and the next.
I’ve seen too many women giving themselves away emotionally, mentally and physically before earning the trust of another person. Making decisions based out of fear rather than love. Fear of being alone and ending up a frizzy-haired cat lady. Fear of disappointing people. Fear of looking like a prude. I’ve been there. But I’ve learned that decisions made out of fear rather than love eventually end in hair dye, wine, loss of identity, wanting the last eight months of your life back and more wine.
Decisions made out of a deep and genuine love and commitment to someone is infinitely more satisfying than those fear based decisions. When a man gains your trust, wins your heart, loves your mind, and you can give that person your soul yet still be completely whole, now that sounds like a hair-pulling, wild and divine experience to me. When you combine healthy sexual desires with the gift of exclusivity, it is almost an otherworldly encounter and something I like to think of as mystical.
Part of the mystical experience for me was found in marriage. For you, that might look different. But I think we can all agree that commitment is powerful. It breeds a kind of security in a woman’s heart that can’t be found in the whimsical I love you’s of a boy who doesn’t quite know what he wants yet. But does know that he wants sex.
Ever heard the phrase “giving the milk away for free?” As a businesswoman and entrepreneur, I know my value and I make sure my clients know it too. People can tell me all day long how talented I am and how much they love my work. I am flattered and appreciative, but they don’t get my services until they make a decision and say those sweet, sweet words that every woman loves to hear, “I want to hire you.” Oh, and they pay me. If I gave my work away for free, it would be evident that I wasn’t aware of my true value or didn’t believe I was good enough. If I don’t believe I’m worthy of their money, neither will they.
These same ideas apply to sex, well, minus the getting paid part. Valuing yourself, knowing yourself, acknowledging your worth and connecting your soul to someone who knows your worth too. Some people might see this as limiting; I see it as empowering. This is your life and this is your story — you get to decide who gets to be a part of it, who gets to kiss you, and who gets to stay the night. The balls are in your court… both of them.
By Christina Heaston