This Chick is Ready to Finally Get Laid

Saving oneself for marriage creates an interesting relationship dynamic.

My partner isn’t a virgin.

But I am.

And I’m waiting until our wedding night to willingly gift him my V-card.

And the removal of it is a gift to myself.

It’s not going to be a ceremony, or a ritual, or anything like that.

Don’t envision alters and Bible readings and chanting.

More likely, we’ll be a little tipsy from the drinks our wedding guests will continue to shove our way, and the removal of my dress will involve some tedious work and a flood of gleeful giggles.

Heck, we might even be so exhausted that night that we just fall asleep and opt to have our long-awaited intercourse another time.

Regardless of when it happens, this journey of semi-celibacy has been a long road, full of twists and turns.

And I’m ready for that to come to an end.

I’m ready to not have to protect this vow with everything I have.

Temptation is everywhere.

If you saw my fiancé naked, with his rippling 6-pack and painfully handsome face, the temptation is elevated to the point of cruelty.

But I didn’t make this vow to be cruel to myself — I made it to protect myself.

I can’t say I knew at 11 that my consent and respect as a human being would be threatened at 19 —but life tends to come full circle.

Maybe the universe already knew my ex wouldn’t respect my body or my soul, and it prompted me to adorn some armour.

Regardless, I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life, since the sexually harassing atmosphere of my first part-time job at a hardware store, being on guard and protecting my own consent, and my own body.

I was always the one who had to keep the wall up and be responsible.

I’m finally ready to let loose.

I was a temptation to him that I needed to keep in check.

My first boyfriend was a real peach.

He was emotionally abusive, incredibly manipulative, and a cheating scumbag who would end our relationship, singlehandedly, the night he tried to rape me.

My virginity was nothing more than a prize to him, and he was going to claim it whether I liked it or not.

Soon before the night he sexually assaulted me, he admitted that while he had said when we first started dating that he was okay with my vow, it was his intention all along to talk me out of it.

A really peach, right?

Little did I know back then, in my first ever relationship, that I deserved far more than a partner who was just “okay" with me saving myself for marriage.

All along, I deserved someone who not only accepted my choice, but also sincerely respected it.

I deserved someone who didn’t push me beyond my sexual boundaries time and time again, only to then turn around and blame me for being a tease.

I deserved somebody who would sincerely say and believe,

“Sure, these are your boundaries, this is the nature of what our sexual relationship will look like — no worries. You’re worth the minuscule wait. I respect you and your commitment to your body.”

My first boyfriend and attempted rapist never believed that sentiment one bit.

But my husband-to-be does.

The commitment is fulfilled — now I can let down all of my barriers.

It’s been 15 years since I vowed to remain a virgin until marriage, at the tender age of 11.

For 10 of those years, I’ve been actively and tirelessly safeguarding my right to consent, and keeping dangerous and disrespectful threats at bay.

That effort takes a lot out of a person. I’ve been fighting the good fight for a long time now, and I’m ready to shed my armour and put down my weapons.

To be fair, my fiancé has made these last 3 years of semi-celibacy pretty easy.

It was always cut and dry to him — this was the nature of what our sexual relationship looked like, for now, and that was okay.

But we both still have come up against plenty of temptation along the way.

What makes him different is that I never felt like I was protecting my virginity on my own. I finally felt like I had a teammate who had my back.

Rather than feeling the need and urgency to fight my partner off, which was the case with my abuser.

Final word.

This chick is 26, and she’s tired of abstaining.

She just wants to get f*cking laid.

And that day is just around the corner!

But that said… I’m still glad I saw this vow through.

I’m glad I waited.

Not for my husband-to-be. Not so that I would “visit his bed” on our wedding night “untainted" in any way. That’s just bull.

I did it for me.

Not to feel purer than other people. Not to feel superior or holier than thou or special.

But simply because my consent has always mattered, and it was that right I wanted to protect all along.

Too many women have had that right completely stripped away from them, and deeply violated.

I was almost one of those women.

I feel immensely lucky that I can use the word, “almost” in that sentence.

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