Monday, December 3

OkCupid for Virgins


NEW YORK CITY––I’m on OkCupid and it's definitely not the, “Most private thing I’m willing to admit.” At 17, Current TV showed me what the world wide web could do. I wasn’t falling into first love and first times unlike your typical mouth-breathing teenager. No, I was a loner in Christrian school, pinning for some dude away at college. Other kids dreamed of college and fame, I dreamt of online dating eligibility. Bookmarking pages of self-portraitured cuties that I would be messaging. This dream vanished in light of college applications and subsequent acceptances/rejections (more rejections, if you want to know) senior year.


"You won’t instantly make Carrie-soulmate-friends #SATC when you first move to New York City."

New York City reawakened a desperate need to meet people. On an island with 8.2 million, I couldn’t meet a single soul. No one tells you that when you hop a plane to NYC by yourself that you won’t instantly make Carrie-soulmate-friends #SATC. Most of your time will be spent in urban isolationism, where standing in the queue at Trader Joes is the most social you’ll be all week. I’ll avoid a Samantha Brick moment and suffice to say that fashion school is a cold cold place. The first rule of making friends in college is: DO NOT SKIP COLLEGE ORIENTATION. Everyone’s clingy the first few weeks of college and will jump through hoops to cling, with nails, to anyone who will utter look their way. I was young and naive once and too cool for school-scheduled activities too! 

The message.
Women on OkCupid wade through inboxes flush with poorly written suggestions and “hey sexiii”s. I’m actually disturbed that men think that many of their emails deserve responses. However, about three weeks ago, I was browsing my inbox to find the BEST OkCupid message of all time: a request to deflower, or defoliage. Of course, my first reaction was flattery, as it’s the most talked about human experience and in a sexual life, a big effing deal. Personally, I believe it is. As a modern woman of the twenty-first century #fauxfeminism, I pretended it was, you know, no big deal (NBD). Only the prologue to devastating heartbreak, anorexia, and running away to New York City. Yes, I'm a neurotic.


My second thought was: Um, should I do it? I examined the fact that I was subconsciously  even mulling over the defoliaging of a ripe stranger. I don't particularly want to break a barely-legals heart. I was reminded of the inebriated way in which mine was thrown away with my high school valedictorian (a few years later) in his twin XL dorm bed. Today, two years after and a few lovers later, I’ve realized that sex is probably the most divisive human act, ever. That’s right, as in it can ruin a friendship or tear apart any bond formed(ing). Ultimately, I think that to “take” (I’d prefer, the term to “share with”) someone's virginity, you have to accept responsibility for how The Virgin is going to react, they don't know any better. As I write this, I realize that I’m being incredibly heteronormative, so excuse me.


I wonder if I should have been the kind stranger and taken this kid's virginity. I shutter to think about who else he may have messaged. If I had a hypothetical do-over, I would’ve wanted someone who was caring and responsible. Someone whom I had screened properly. Someone who would’ve taught me the 101s and made me feel comfortable. These days, I'm very much a lay-in-training, because of this lack of caring when losing my V-card. Since I've not been in a LTR since, I have to "learn" every time I get laid, which I'll admit, probably makes me a bit lousier in bed, but I digress. I’m hoping that in his quest to “lose it,” he finds someone kind and caring. Here's to hoping he makes a pleasant memory!

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