I grew up in an evangelical Christian community and there was a huge emphasis placed on saving sex until marriage. From a young age, I believed I had to save this precious part of myself if I wanted to remain “pure”.
I don’t align myself with that faith any more, but the complications of that culture have stayed with me until quite recently. It built a foundation of shame and fear around sex that I’ve struggled with for most of my life. I didn’t discover my clitoris or know what an orgasm was until I was 24.
I met Ben 10 years ago, and he said he loved me after a few weeks. I told him: “I’m still a virgin, I grew up in a Christian family and it’s something I’m still wrestling with.” I could see his eyes getting wider. But he said he would wait. I was blown away.
I felt comfortable with oral and using hands to experience pleasure, but we didn’t have penetrative sex until we married four years later. I was so scared that if I had premarital sex the shame would eat me up and destroy my relationship. When I look back, I’m so heartbroken for that young woman and angry at how much fear I had around feeling sexual and embracing my femininity.
That disconnection with my sexuality meant that when we were married, I found myself not wanting to have sex much. I felt indifferent towards this thing I’d waited my whole life for, which was very confusing. Ben would have to initiate, and I think he became really concerned about that. All of a sudden, this anger stirred up in me because I’d grown up believing that, as a woman, my body was not my own.
When I spoke to Ben, we decided that, for a period of time, only I would initiate sex. Straight away, something changed in me; I wanted to have sex because I was in charge. It was a simple reframing of power and I felt liberated. I went to a sex shop, and got some sexy underwear. We now watch ethical porn together and use toys. For the last couple of years, I have felt comfortable in my sexuality and excited to include other elements in our sex life. I feel free from embarrassment and shame, which I’m so grateful for.
I had already been sexually active for about six years before I met Amelia when I was 19. I’d done a lot of experimentation as a teenager, so when we began dating sex wasn’t as much of a priority. Of course it was something I loved to do, but I didn’t mind that we didn’t have penetrative sex straight away. It wasn’t an issue at all. Amelia is five years older than me, and very clever and gorgeous. I just really fell in love with her.
When she told me about her background I was a bit shocked. I didn’t know anyone who had waited for marriage before having sex. But I was more concerned that she was experiencing that trauma from her past.
Before we got married we were having sex without penetration, which we called hanky-panky. We both explored pleasure through touching, so I was honestly sexually satisfied. I got my orgasms, and she had hers. I enjoyed that it was new for her and, in many ways, it was also new for me because I had never had sex without penetration, so it was still very exciting.
The only time I became frustrated about our sex life was after we got married. Amelia didn’t feel lust any more. As soon as we were allowed to do it, it was like the excitement went away and she didn’t want to have sex with me. I felt that I was always the one initiating it, and it made me feel bad about myself. We were having normal, even boring, sex because she didn’t want to do much. I didn’t love that, but I never wanted her to feel pressured – I just wanted to be physically close to her and touch her, as that’s my love language.
Things are much better now. We have sex three times a week, sometimes more, and it’s very passionate. Amelia has her power back. We’re very content.