My Dear Lily,
You asked me a question recently that I’ve thought about for days: When is the right time to lose your virginity? I could see the uncertainty in your eyes as you asked me, and I could feel the weight of it, too. It’s such a personal question, one that I wish I had been given clearer guidance on when I was your age. But the truth is, the answer isn’t simple, and there isn’t just one right answer.
In my time, when I was your age, the world was a very different place. The 1960s and 70s had just given birth to the sexual revolution, and women were starting to experience freedom in ways that had never been available to them before. We could go on the Pill, attend feminist protests, and engage in casual sex without the fear of unwanted pregnancies. But, despite all of this newfound freedom, I was still told by society that my purity was a reflection of my worth. I was told that I should wait until I was in a committed relationship, that I should keep my body for a man who would love me forever.
I remember losing my virginity to Tom, the boy I thought I would marry. I was in my teens, and at that time, I had been conditioned to believe that sex and love were inseparable. I felt both excitement and fear. I wanted it, but I also didn’t fully understand the consequences—emotionally or physically. I had been taught that this was the ultimate form of intimacy, but I hadn’t yet realized that sex is not just about love, and it’s certainly not about keeping something locked away until the right person comes along.
What I’ve learned, my dear, is that there isn’t a right time for everyone. There’s only the right time for you. So, let me share a few things I’ve learned through my experiences.
Sex Should Be About You, Not Anyone Else
When I first had sex, I felt like it was something I was supposed to do, not something I truly wanted to experience for myself. The pressure was immense. I had romanticized the idea of what it should feel like, but the reality was far different. I didn’t know what I liked, I didn’t understand my own body, and I wasn’t ready to communicate openly about my needs. And that’s okay, I suppose, but it’s also why I wish someone had told me that it’s okay to wait until you understand your own desires, your own body, and your own boundaries.
You see, Lily, the problem wasn’t necessarily the act itself, but that I thought I had to do it to prove something to someone else—whether that was to my partner or society. That’s why I encourage you to wait until it’s not about meeting someone else’s expectations, but about meeting your own. It’s okay if you don’t have all the answers now; take your time. Learn about what makes you feel good, what makes you feel safe, and what makes you feel in control.
Understand Your Body First
The notion of virginity itself can be a bit of a trap. I used to think that losing my virginity was a moment that defined me—a moment I could never take back. But the more I grew, the more I realized that there is no one singular moment when you become a woman. You’re already a woman in every sense of the word, regardless of your sexual experience. What matters more is how you come to understand and appreciate your body.
Sex is not a race, Lily. You don’t need to compare yourself to others or follow a timeline that society hands you. Learn what feels good to you, and don’t be afraid to explore that in your own time. Only when you are connected to your body—when you understand it and appreciate it—will you be ready to share it with someone else.
Consent Is Everything
As you grow older, you will begin to hear this word more often—consent. It’s a simple word, but one that holds so much power. In my day, consent was often assumed—there was an unspoken rule that once you were in a relationship, certain things were expected. But today, thank goodness, the conversation about consent is louder and clearer.
Never feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do. Never. Whether it’s a kiss, a touch, or something more intimate, you have the right to say no at any point, no matter what. Sex should be something that both you and your partner want, and it should be mutual in every sense. If you don’t feel comfortable, if you don’t feel ready, you have every right to say “I’m not ready yet.”
In the past, women were often told that sex was about pleasing a partner, but the reality is it should be about mutual respect, communication, and shared desire. If a person truly cares for you, they will respect your boundaries. If they don’t, they’re not the right person to share that intimate part of yourself with.
The Right Partner Makes All the Difference
I can’t emphasize enough how important it is to wait for the right person. But the right person doesn’t necessarily mean the person who you think you’re supposed to marry or be with forever. It means someone who respects you, supports you, and makes you feel safe—not just in bed, but in all aspects of life.
When I was your age, I was eager to find “the one,” and I thought sex was part of that equation. The truth is, while there can be deep emotional connections in sex, it doesn’t guarantee that someone will be the person you grow old with. Make sure you’re with someone who is honest with you, someone who listens to you, and, most importantly, someone who respects you, especially when it comes to matters of intimacy.
And remember: Your worth is not defined by your sexual experiences. No matter how many times you’ve had sex or not, no matter who you’ve had it with, you are worthy of love, respect, and understanding.
There’s No “Perfect” First Time
Lily, if I’m being honest, my first time wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t romantic in the way I had imagined it, and it wasn’t some beautiful, life-changing moment. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I took the step when I was ready—and so will you, when the time comes. There’s no “perfect” moment, no perfect time, and certainly no perfect person who will make everything magical. But there is the right time for you—when you feel comfortable, safe, and eager to take that step because you want to
Love SnazzyGranny.
