How I Lost My Virginity Over a Garage to the Wo... · Storyflo

Yesterday I posted on my Instagram stories that I lost my virginity to “All That She Wants” by Ace of Base.

“All that she wants is another baby She’s gone tomorrow, boy All that she wants is another baby, yeah All that she wants is another baby”

— Ace of Base

I’d like to tell you how I got into this predicament because so many of you have asked and it’s truly nothing I would wish on any of you.

I planned the loss of my virginity meticulously for six months. There were stages. There was a calendar. I had a calendar with a statistical projection of when the virginity would be lost, because I’m neurodivergent and nobody had told me yet that this wasn’t a normal thing to have. I had a Gantt chart for my hymen.

I went about it like a pure maniac. Not a sexual maniac. A neurodivergent maniac. Because I had the fear every girl has, and it is not the fear boys have.

Boys get one warning about losing their virginity. Girls get one too. His is orgasming hard and fast. Hers is tearing your body in two and bleeding enough to cover a bedsheet so they can see you weren’t lying. Coming is the point. Bleeding isn’t. One gender was warned about too much pleasure. The other was warned about structural damage. Nobody found this strange. I found this strange.

And I always wondered. What if you aren’t a bleeder but you’re a virgin? Would they believe you? Would they kill you in the old days if you didn’t bleed on your goddamn sheets? History is full of women executed over laundry. That’s not a metaphor. That was the legal system.

You know what else my generation got? AIDS. I’m sorry to bring up AIDS. But we went through puberty during AIDS. All we wanted to do was have sex and all we knew was that everybody had AIDS and if we touched a person or thought about sex too hard we would get AIDS, because we were children and we didn’t understand anything. I think it made us funny. It made us real funny. You cannot spend ages eleven through sixteen believing a French kiss is fatal and come out of it a boring person.

So I looked at all of that, the blood, the tearing, the sheets, the plague, and I made a decision that I still stand behind.

I would break my hymen first. Before the sex. Separately from the sex.

The hymen would be handled as its own agenda item. It wasn’t going to be sex. It was going to be a hymen break and a quit. In and out. A procedure. I essentially invented outpatient surgery, and my boyfriend’s penis was the instrument.

His bedroom was over the garage, which was the greatest security system ever installed in a suburban home. When anyone came home, the garage door would shake the entire room, and we had three minutes, tops, to get dressed and get to the TV room. It was a really good system, I have to say. If you are a parent with an automatic garage, do not put your teenager in the bedroom above it. That garage door is the reason they’re fucking. You gave them an alarm system.

So the garage is quiet. The radio is on. The calendar says tonight.

How I Lost My Virginity Over a Garage to the Wo... · Storyflo