I think I lost mine a week before my 19th birthday. I wasn't dating the guy at the time but we started dating afterwards and for a long while (like a year and a half) it felt like an okay relationship.
I don't really know how it changed me. Sex has never been "great" for me - or masturbation, for that matter. It just... doesn't do it for me. I've no idea why (I could see a doctor about it but it's not affecting me adversely so I don't care). We were both dumb through the relationship having unprotected sex and I ended up getting an abortion so that was something.
I don't know if I was made to feel a prude more by my old friends because I'd never had sex by the time they had, or the fact I'd never had a boyfriend when they'd gone through several boys themselves. It wasn't like I never tried (oh my God did I try) but some things don't work out.
I haven't had sex for like 3 (maybe 4) years now and honestly I don't care about it. I dunno why people seem to think it's way too long or that I'm missing out on something.
I think I lost mine a week before my 19th birthday. I wasn't dating the guy at the time but we started dating afterwards and for a long while (like a year and a half) it felt like an okay relationship.
I don't really know how it changed me. Sex has never been "great" for me - or masturbation, for that matter. It just... doesn't do it for me. I've no idea why (I could see a doctor about it but it's not affecting me adversely so I don't care). We were both dumb through the relationship having unprotected sex and I ended up getting an abortion so that was something.
I don't know if I was made to feel a prude more by my old friends because I'd never had sex by the time they had, or the fact I'd never had a boyfriend when they'd gone through several boys themselves. It wasn't like I never tried (oh my God did I try) but some things don't work out.
I haven't had sex for like 3 (maybe 4) years now and honestly I don't care about it. I dunno why people seem to think it's way too long or that I'm missing out on something.
As far as virginity goes, I like purity, male or female. I would prefer to know my partner has had little to no intimacy, which would tell me that they are careful and discerning, thus more likely to find it as meaningful as I would. I abhor the idea of intimacy with someone who is promiscuous, as it would have no real value and any enjoyment to be gained would be marred by the fact that I'm just another notch in the bedpost.
In the interest of full disclosure, I was... 21 I think? I had tried stuff with a girl about a year prior, but she was almost a full foot shorter than me and also terrible in bed.
I'm still with the guy who was my first time, I love him and all but sex isn't very fun for me. It's not that it hurts or he has a micropeen, it's just that nothing much happens on my end of things.
Also, gotta love how many people are posturing and trying to act like they're great cause they like sex. It's an opinion, not a fact, and if you have to pretend you're so cool it probably means you're not.
Anyway, I think everybody should try it at least once when 1) they're ready and 2) they find someone who means that much to them.
As far as virginity goes, I like purity, male or female. I would prefer to know my partner has had little to no intimacy, which would tell me that they are careful and discerning, thus more likely to find it as meaningful as I would. I abhor the idea of intimacy with someone who is promiscuous, as it would have no real value and any enjoyment to be gained would be marred by the fact that I'm just another notch in the bedpost.
In the interest of full disclosure, I was... 21 I think? I had tried stuff with a girl about a year prior, but she was almost a full foot shorter than me and also terrible in bed.
I'm still with the guy who was my first time, I love him and all but sex isn't very fun for me. It's not that it hurts or he has a micropeen, it's just that nothing much happens on my end of things.
Also, gotta love how many people are posturing and trying to act like they're great cause they like sex. It's an opinion, not a fact, and if you have to pretend you're so cool it probably means you're not.
Anyway, I think everybody should try it at least once when 1) they're ready and 2) they find someone who means that much to them.
I think the whole purity thing outside of Religious teachings is that that virgin=faithful sane partner forever, so people put a lot more weight onto it than they really should. Which leads to a very dismal, disappointing first times for the uninitiated because it doesn't feel special or does nothing to magically fix how they feel about themselves, you know? (The good doctor stated it already, but I wanted to add onto that)
Society does Sex ED a huuuge disservice when preaching the abstinence route and how "good" it'll feel to be a virgin when you finally get to have it. I don't know anyone who was happy they waited . On the flip-side I don't know anyone who was devastated they weren't a virgin when they finally found the one, either.
That being said, it's just...a thing. Great for some because they apparently never bought into the aforementioned spiel, terrible for others for various reasons, or just meh.
-I can honestly live without it, with as many baby-rabid individuals I've unknowingly dated. (You know you're in trouble when they give you the stink eye for breaking out the contraceptive measures, son.)
As far as virginity goes, I like purity, male or female. I would prefer to know my partner has had little to no intimacy, which would tell me that they are careful and discerning, thus more likely to find it as meaningful as I would. I abhor the idea of intimacy with someone who is promiscuous, as it would have no real value and any enjoyment to be gained would be marred by the fact that I'm just another notch in the bedpost.
In the interest of full disclosure, I was... 21 I think? I had tried stuff with a girl about a year prior, but she was almost a full foot shorter than me and also terrible in bed.
I'm still with the guy who was my first time, I love him and all but sex isn't very fun for me. It's not that it hurts or he has a micropeen, it's just that nothing much happens on my end of things.
Also, gotta love how many people are posturing and trying to act like they're great cause they like sex. It's an opinion, not a fact, and if you have to pretend you're so cool it probably means you're not.
Anyway, I think everybody should try it at least once when 1) they're ready and 2) they find someone who means that much to them.
Being a virgin is one heck of a thing to juggle in your mind.
On an instinctive level, it sucks to have never experienced sex before. You're missing out on one of life's natural pleasures that's been keeping the species going for thousands of centuries. The biomechanical purpose of your genitals is being left unused. You might think, "why am I the one descendant who fucks up now?". You can "feel" the virgin branding on your soul. You're either willing to fuck anyone to get rid of the virginity, or you are extremely picky on who to give it first, because the first time matters as a special milestone moment you want to make perfect. I'm a victim of the latter case, but I'll fuck whoever wants to willingly get closer to me. Either way, I'm conflicted and my genitals yearn.
On a reasoning level, you can deduce that the stigma is just a silly abstract concept, it doesn't necessarily matter who you plug your privates with, and "a fap a day keeps the feels away" (usually). It should be seen as a fun "bonus" activity between two willing people, and not seriously like the prize on top of a step-ladder or the "FINAL BOSS FORM" of a relationship with another person... I guess.
As a virgin nearing the late-twenties, I have little expectation of myself. I'm slowly accepting of the fact that I have no value on the sexual market and the concept of any relations with anybody is incompatible with my current lifestyle and personality (read: borderline NEET + avoidant/depressive). I'm also a tremendous melodramatic pansy that easily gets overwhelmed and gives up. Woe is me, boohoo and such, I brought this onto myself.
The one guy on the first page of the thread mentioning about how losing your virginity won't change your life/mentality for the better... I trust that sentiment, although subconsciously I keep believing the opposite... for some shitty reason. He makes a good point -- making losing your virginity as that peak point for hypothetically transforming you into a successful normie is NOT what is guaranteed to happen. You'll still be the same, awkward fuck you always were, except that your crotch touched someone else's crotch one time. I guess for someone as hopeless as I see myself, that's all I have to cling on to if I want to better myself. But of course not. Bettering yourself involves... well, bettering yourself.
TL;DR -- me being a virgin = "meh. reasons."
That's my take on my own lack of sexy times. It's good to get a nice, big, rambling thought out. Doesn't solve anything, but feels vaguely good, nonetheless. I'm going to dissolve back into the forum lurk-space and pretend to forget I posted this because I'm mentally inclined to be terrified of your ratings and responses.
(Nobody knows who I am. I'm an anonymous faggot. Repeat: Nobody knows who I am...)
For the record, all of us in the thread could get together IRL, arrange an orgy pile, and immediately solve the problem for everybody in one go. Just putting that out there.
My advice to you, from a straight male perspective:
Learn to drink and be able to function inebriated. No sober person finds a drunk person attractive, but drunk people are far more likely to speak to other drunk people. The lamest pickup lines you will ever hear can be inoffensive while intoxicated.
If all else fails and this shit is affecting your mental health, get a car, get $200, get a phone, browse The Erotic Review and get yourself a cute hooker. It ain't I.B. Pussyslayer. It ain't as much fun as with a civilian. But a nuts a nut and at least you won't have to worry about that whole virgin thing anymore.
Additionally, if you're a freshman in college, you live on campus, and it's imperative that you get laid (and I'd say it is, as it will likely save you a lot of mental anguish down the road), I'd say it's pretty difficult to fail. Just make some friends during orientation/the first week or two, go to parties with them on the weekends, and get drunk. Repeat until you lose your V-Card and then you can move the fuck on. Unless you're an absolute mutant (I'm a massive socialphobe and a fucking weirdo to boot, so the excuses are few), I promise you that you'll get laid before your 20th birthday. If you're going to commuter college and you still live at home, I'm not really sure what to tell you. You're kind of trapped in a bubble but the situation isn't completely hopeless.
It's not often that Pop Pop Napalm has advice to impart on the younger Kiwis, but I will say this: if you want to lose your virginity, college is the time to do it. Preferably freshman year, where it seems like you have more free time, people are more impressionable and keen to interact with others in their freshman class, ect. If you feel that society is denigrating you for being a virgin, don't let college slip by. Because once you graduate and find a job in a different city/state/whatever (or move back home), your prospects for having any kind of a social life with the potential of getting laid plummet drastically. And sadly, there may very well be a "too late" (see below).
But the second bullet point really reminds me of a friend of mine who is about 26 (far too late for Pop Pop Napalm's sagely advice), still a virgin, and an Omega-class love-shy (we mostly keep in contact via email because we live in different states) who I think is the perfect microcosm of this thread. For some people who reach a certain point, it really does appear to affect their mental health in a pretty drastic way. I'm not a mind reader, but I really get the sense that his virginity and the perceived societal implications has completely eroded his self-esteem.
I think about the volumes my friend has written to me about how women are shit, and how unfair it is that he's been "denied the pleasures of a woman's body", and why the only reason that he's going to college is so that he can get a job so that he can get a girlfriend (I'm guessing he sees a job as being like a hunting license for pussy and after the age of 22, he might be right). Dude has dropped out of college 3 or 4 different times for 3 or 4 different things, at least one of them because "nyuuuuuh girls won't talk to meeeee" and has absolutely no work history to speak of. He lives mostly off of loans and money from his mom and every time I try to explain to him that his best chance to improve his prospects of getting laid is to improve his prospects in life and suggest ways in which he can start building his resume for when/if he eventually graduates at the age of 30-31 with his degree in marketing....he says that he can't do any of it because he needs "a woman's encouragement."
I feel for him, I really do, but at the same time I'm 99.9% sure he'll never get laid through traditional dating or online dating or by complete chance. So I wish he'd just find a prostitute on Craig's list so that he could finally move on with his life.
Okay fam, I will admit that I'm not the most perfect person. In fact, I will concede that I have multiple issues I am dealing with. I've visited psychiatrists. I have been on medication in the past. Taking all that I have been prescribed would help me trick people into thinking I am normal, but that's all it would be, trickery. I don't take the medication that I should be taking anymore. I know it would be best. After all this I should probably go check to see what I have left.
I am definitely not an aggressive person. I hope you do not perceive that I am. I am just very messed up in the head.
Anyway, I have a story about my first time, and I am ashamed, but I think it's something that I really need to bare myself out here for.
I'm not going to be able to sleep. I don't sleep a lot. I never have. Tonight I am not going to sleep at all. I am going to sit here in the silence of my dark room and wait. I had to unplug my alarm clock. The glowing blue numbers allowed me to make out just the outlines of the bookcase, my desk, and the shit falling out of my closet but even that was too much. I had put foil on the window already. I could use a towel under the door to block out all the light but I needed the door open. I needed to hear her if she woke up. I needed to hear her if she was barfing or whatever. She was in a bad way, worse than normal. That was the only way it happened. I had never meant for it to happen. It just did.
That's not true, I had always wanted it to happen.
She had been out. We have always been backwards that way. She was the one with friends I didn't approve of. She was the one that dated people I didn't think were good enough for her. I had told her this when I was young. I don't know how old I was, I just know I was young. Anyway, I'm 19. I am supposed to be out with friends getting fucked up and I am supposed to come home and get bitched at. It's not like that for us. Mom was out. She had said he was different but he wasn't. I was watching TV when she got home. I'm not in school anymore and I had gotten fired so I had no reason not to watch TV. I was watching TV. She couldn't get her key in the door. When I opened it for her she was pressed up against the Jam. She dropped her keys as she came in. She stumbled for the hall that led past my shitty bedroom to her shitty bedroom. She only made it as far as my bathroom. She missed the toilet. Fuck, she was so high I was surprised it hit the door. You can tell when she is high and drunk instead of just drunk. She is sweet. She apologized for the puke. She had it all over her. I helped her to the crapper and took her purse and got it off her shoulder and out of the way as she emptied the rest of her night out. I should have gone to college. I could have. It wouldn't have even cost us anything, I am fucking brilliant when I want to be and she is broke so school would have been free but it seemed like a lot of work to not make any money. I had to get her out of her shirt. There wasn't much shirt but what little there was I got off of her. I would probably just throw it away.
I noticed the bruises. They were on her arms and were in the exact shape of his hands. If I were the violent type I would have done something about it. Sometimes I wished violence was my problem. Instead I just patted her head. She wanted water so I got her one. While I was gone she pissed herself.
She was so sorry. That's how I knew she was high. She told me what a good boy I was. She was just looking at me. Her makeup wasn't fucked up. She hadn't been through too much. I had seen her on nights when she looked like the pillow Jean Simmons passed out on. She was pretty. She was only forty. She could do better than the asshole she had gone out with.
"No I can't," she said. It wasn't emotional. She wasn't crying on my shoulder. She was stating a fact, like the carpet was green or our POS Chevy was blue.
I pulled her out of the bathroom floor and the random puddles of puke to the hallway and pulled her boots off of her. She had pissed herself, I think I said that, I struggled with her belt. She giggled at me then helped. I undid the buttons that held her jeans closed and stood to pull them off of her. She thought it was hilarious.
Her red panties matched her bra. I hated myself for noticing.
She giggled when I pulled her to her feet. She grasped onto me as we made the few steps the rest of the way to her bed where I laid her out. She should pass out and wake up in the morning. I doubted she would remember any of it.
I watched her writhe on the bed, she flapped about like a turtle on its back. "Help me, goddamnit."
"How."
"This bra pinches. Help me." I knew I shouldn't but I knew I had to. Or I knew I had to but knew I shouldn't, I don't fucking know. "it's not like you haven't seen them."
I had. She wasn't all that prudish when it came to laying in our shitty little yard naked, or walking around the house naked. I pretended not to look.
I undid the clasp. It pulled easily off of her shoulders. I had no idea how a bra came off. It left her on her back, miles and miles of smooth tanned skin. She could do so much better.
"It's okay." She said. It startled me and I looked up at her. She was watching me look at her.
No, it so fucking isn't, I thought. I didn't stop though. There were small triangles from her good bikini. The triangles were tan too, just not as tan as the circles in the middle of them or the flesh outside of them.
Yes. I wanted to, but I wasn't going to.
"Have you touched a breast before, Philly?" she asked me quietly. She called me Philly. I was suddenly six years old and there was nothing worse than lying to your mother.
"No, Mother." I whispered, hoping she couldn't hear.
"Do you want to?" she asked. She was smiling - it was peaceful and gentle.
I didn't answer; I just extended two long thin fingers until they met the soft flesh that was the swell of her breast.
"Don't poke, baby. Use your whole hand. Run it smoothly over my breast. Feel the nipple in your palm."
Dutifully I did as she asked. I can't explain to you how it felt. I suppose either you know or you don't. It isn't what your fingers touch that you are feeling, it is how the rest of you feels as you touch one. I swelled with the sensation.
It was awkward to stroke both breasts at the same time. One arm was bent too much, the other had to extend too far but I had to do it. I suffered through it, her breasts, large, full, soft breasts filling my hands.
They aren't headlights or melons or any of those things. That is just the bullshit boys say that don't know. They are boobs, they are breasts, they are a unique tactile experience.
"Just like that," she said. Startling me out of my trance. I released her immediately. I shirked away from her, I backed quickly for the door, too quickly and bumped her dresser.
"Philly, come here." She said.
"I need to get some sleep." I plead.
"Philly," she said firmly.
I understood the crossroads I stood at. I understood where each path went and that one was good and one was bad. I understood all the things I had heard in Sunday school on the few trips we had made to church. I knew what Jesus wanted, or God, whatever. I knew what the other path meant as well. I took only two steps down that path but they were enough to bring me back to the foot of her bed.
She pulled me to her. I don't know how she did it, Jesus, it wasn't like physically. She didn't reach out with her arm and yank me on top of her but the pull was no less perceptible. I collapsed onto her more than anything else. What I wanted to do, what I had to do, wasn't a conscience decision but an instinct. I don't know if it was because of some mother/son instinct or if it is just what guys naturally do to any breasts laid bare in front of them but I buried my face in her chest, I sucked voraciously, pulling her nipple into my mouth. She squeaked, I thought in pain, and I pulled away only to have her hand physically grasp me, this time, yes, physically, pulling me back to her. "No baby, that was good. That sound was good," she said. I was more careful this time. "No baby, like before. Harder."
I did what I was told and ignored the sounds she made. She cried. I looked at her eyes for the black streaks but there were none. She tugged me back again and I continued.
I changed breasts and did the whole thing again and she writhed about the bed, long waved of her dark brown hair flapping about the pillows. God, she is pretty.
"Roll over," she said. At least I think she said it, she might just have pushed me. She had a much easier time with my jeans than I had with hers. I felt the release of the tight denim, they were old and too small and then I felt her lips on mine.
Her kiss was slimy and there was a slight fruit flavor that didn't entirely cover up the taste of her vomit. Her fingers were right there, they were so close, and then they weren't close at all but were a vice surrounding my dick and clamping down about it and I felt it twitch and splatter inside of my boxers, my jizz a sticky mess in my pants.
"Oh, Sneasel," she cooed at me. She kissed me again. It was over, I presumed. "Oh baby, that's okay." More kissing chased away most of the acid taste. "Take these off."
I did as she asked. I was down to just my old PE T-shirt. She pointed at it and I understood. I tugged it off my shoulders and over my head.
"You are so beautiful." She cooed at me. She reached out and took my hand. "Come here."
As I understand it, there is supposed to be a waiting period, like a blaster rifle in a video game that needs to recharge. In dirty stories, its not like that. There is always a hard cock prepared to spray cum on the next hooker or cheerleader in line. For me I guess I am more filthy porn than sex-ed because even after the incident in my shorts my dick was hard. It was really hard, harder than normal.
She put me in her mouth. Just for like a second. I don't know if that is a blow-job or not. I don't think so. Then she lied back on the bed.
There was no decision-making process. There was no second-guessing. There were two long legs, thin thighs, a slight tuft of curly black hair, and a pair of breasts resting gently on the horizon. I didn't do any of the things you read about women wanting you to do at that point. I wanted to leave and yet I knew I couldn't. I imagine a man who has just jumped off a bridge. He was intending to kill himself but after he hit the water and sank a few feet he still wanted to die and he knew if he wanted to he could just sink until he had to breathe but instead of doing that he flails his feet and struggles with his arms desperate to get back to the surface. I did not want to do what I did but I did it. I had to.
She purred at me like a kitten. Her hands were gentle on my arms and my back. Her thighs were so soft they didn't feel like skin but more like those satin sheets you see at the mall that are so soft you cant imagine they are sheets. My cock, it was surrounded in softness. It was mired in delicate. I could tell, vaguely, that it was warm and moist, but mostly, almost unbearably, I was wrapped in gentleness.
As I moved on top of her, desperate to bury myself deeper into the heavenliness of her I thought briefly that it wasn't my first trip in there. See, fuck, there is something wrong with me.
She moaned and that was it. It was another violent gasping jizz fest.
"No. Stay. More." The short words sputtered out of her lips her legs and arms grasping at me preventing any chance that I might flee.
We coupled until I no longer felt myself inside of her. I was just moving. I was the poor asshole on the stationary bicycle that can't feel anything anymore except a burning in their legs and the electronic digits counting down.
She let me go eventually but now I didn't want to move. I just lay there. My cock was still inside of her; I felt her gently pulsing around me. Once I opened my eyes to look at her. Her beautiful lips were just as red; her hair was still a deep dark brown mess around her head. Her smile was so peaceful. I couldn't help but hold her. She had that happiness that she has when I undo an Easter basket or a Christmas present. I am too old for either but there is that simple bliss on her face when I do that I am sure I will still collect a present even when I get my shit together and get the hell out.
It was only when she snored that I got up and came to my own bed. I laid there beneath the covers naked for a long time but then realized she might get up and she might come to me and find me naked and realize what a filthy fuckup I am.
When the sun came up I checked on her. She had gotten up in the night. I didn't think I'd slept but I must have because there was now an empty beer can in bed with her. Most of it was poured out, a wet spot on the mattress beside her but she must have gotten thirsty in the night.
I took a pill before I left. It would take a couple of days for it to kick in. I figured if I went down to the truck stop I could get a job washing the trucks or being a busboy, they had plenty of work at the truck stop. It would be a few months but if I saved I could get out. There were lots of towns, most of them with better placed to work than fast food or a truck stop.
Additionally, if you're a freshman in college, you live on campus, and it's imperative that you get laid (and I'd say it is, as it will likely save you a lot of mental anguish down the road), I'd say it's pretty difficult to fail. Just make some friends during orientation/the first week or two, go to parties with them on the weekends, and get drunk. Repeat until you lose your V-Card and then you can move the fuck on. Unless you're an absolute mutant (I'm a massive socialphobe and a fucking weirdo to boot, so the excuses are few), I promise you that you'll get laid before your 20th birthday. If you're going to commuter college and you still live at home, I'm not really sure what to tell you. You're kind of trapped in a bubble but the situation isn't completely hopeless.
It's not often that Pop Pop Napalm has advice to impart on the younger Kiwis, but I will say this: if you want to lose your virginity, college is the time to do it. Preferably freshman year, where it seems like you have more free time, people are more impressionable and keen to interact with others in their freshman class, ect. If you feel that society is denigrating you for being a virgin, don't let college slip by. Because once you graduate and find a job in a different city/state/whatever (or move back home), your prospects for having any kind of a social life with the potential of getting laid plummet drastically. And sadly, there may very well be a "too late" (see below).
But the second bullet point really reminds me of a friend of mine who is about 26 (far too late for Pop Pop Napalm's sagely advice), still a virgin, and an Omega-class love-shy (we mostly keep in contact via email because we live in different states) who I think is the perfect microcosm of this thread. For some people who reach a certain point, it really does appear to affect their mental health in a pretty drastic way. I'm not a mind reader, but I really get the sense that his virginity and the perceived societal implications has completely eroded his self-esteem.
I think about the volumes my friend has written to me about how women are shit, and how unfair it is that he's been "denied the pleasures of a woman's body", and why the only reason that he's going to college is so that he can get a job so that he can get a girlfriend (I'm guessing he sees a job as being like a hunting license for pussy and after the age of 22, he might be right). Dude has dropped out of college 3 or 4 different times for 3 or 4 different things, at least one of them because "nyuuuuuh girls won't talk to meeeee" and has absolutely no work history to speak of. He lives mostly off of loans and money from his mom and every time I try to explain to him that his best chance to improve his prospects of getting laid is to improve his prospects in life and suggest ways in which he can start building his resume for when/if he eventually graduates at the age of 30-31 with his degree in marketing....he says that he can't do any of it because he needs "a woman's encouragement."
I feel for him, I really do, but at the same time I'm 99.9% sure he'll never get laid through traditional dating or online dating or by complete chance. So I wish he'd just find a prostitute on Craig's list so that he could finally move on with his life.
Additionally, if you're a freshman in college, you live on campus, and it's imperative that you get laid (and I'd say it is, as it will likely save you a lot of mental anguish down the road), I'd say it's pretty difficult to fail. Just make some friends during orientation/the first week or two, go to parties with them on the weekends, and get drunk. Repeat until you lose your V-Card and then you can move the fuck on. Unless you're an absolute mutant (I'm a massive socialphobe and a fucking weirdo to boot, so the excuses are few), I promise you that you'll get laid before your 20th birthday. If you're going to commuter college and you still live at home, I'm not really sure what to tell you. You're kind of trapped in a bubble but the situation isn't completely hopeless.
It's not often that Pop Pop Napalm has advice to impart on the younger Kiwis, but I will say this: if you want to lose your virginity, college is the time to do it. Preferably freshman year, where it seems like you have more free time, people are more impressionable and keen to interact with others in their freshman class, ect. If you feel that society is denigrating you for being a virgin, don't let college slip by. Because once you graduate and find a job in a different city/state/whatever (or move back home), your prospects for having any kind of a social life with the potential of getting laid plummet drastically. And sadly, there may very well be a "too late" (see below).
But the second bullet point really reminds me of a friend of mine who is about 26 (far too late for Pop Pop Napalm's sagely advice), still a virgin, and an Omega-class love-shy (we mostly keep in contact via email because we live in different states) who I think is the perfect microcosm of this thread. For some people who reach a certain point, it really does appear to affect their mental health in a pretty drastic way. I'm not a mind reader, but I really get the sense that his virginity and the perceived societal implications has completely eroded his self-esteem.
I think about the volumes my friend has written to me about how women are shit, and how unfair it is that he's been "denied the pleasures of a woman's body", and why the only reason that he's going to college is so that he can get a job so that he can get a girlfriend (I'm guessing he sees a job as being like a hunting license for pussy and after the age of 22, he might be right). Dude has dropped out of college 3 or 4 different times for 3 or 4 different things, at least one of them because "nyuuuuuh girls won't talk to meeeee" and has absolutely no work history to speak of. He lives mostly off of loans and money from his mom and every time I try to explain to him that his best chance to improve his prospects of getting laid is to improve his prospects in life and suggest ways in which he can start building his resume for when/if he eventually graduates at the age of 30-31 with his degree in marketing....he says that he can't do any of it because he needs "a woman's encouragement."
I feel for him, I really do, but at the same time I'm 99.9% sure he'll never get laid through traditional dating or online dating or by complete chance. So I wish he'd just find a prostitute on Craig's list so that he could finally move on with his life.
)
