“Hey, so I was thinking… About this Saturday night. Like, I think we might need to stop it here. You’re nice and funny, smart, generous and I really like hanging out with you but…”
“Yep, but…?” I said down the phone. I could already see where this was going.
“Well, like, all guys kinda kn-no-ow,” stumbled Chris*, before finally spitting out the following. “If they sleep with a virgin, it basically means that the girl will go all crazy, then assume they have to start dating and I just don’t want that.”
This is the exact phone call I received while I was heading home in the Uber from work one Tuesday evening.
Here’s some background information about me: I’m 29, have a great job, a solid group of girlfriends, have travelled all around the world and I’m happy with my life. Oh, and if you hadn’t already picked up on it, I’m a virgin.
I’m a pretty straight-down-the-line kinda girl. If I don’t want to do something, I won’t. And I literally didn’t “do” Chris because, well, he was just a f***boy (no thanks to Tinder). When things started to get hot and heavy that Saturday night, I told him I’d never actually done “this” (read: sex) before, and didn’t want to that night. His face dropped, showing 50 shades of disappointment, so I grabbed my keys and got out of there. I wasn’t going to be made to feel like an idiot.
So when Chris called me that night to call things off, I wasn’t the least bit surprised. Because if he hadn’t have done it, I was definitely going to myself.
I’ve had friends who felt obliged to sleep with guys or were so drunk they don’t remember it – that’s just not me. Some slept with their first boyfriend when they were 14, while others waited until they were married. And that’s fine. But for me, it’s just never happened.