Tis the season when Christians around the world celebrate virginity, or at least the life of one famous virgin, and the birth of her even-more-famous son.
Personally, I’ve never been a huge fan of virginity. I lost mine (and haven’t found it again since), just shy of my 17th birthday (to Peter I, who had a cool MGB convertible and a girlfriend named Sandy, whom I didn’t know about until after I’d bedded him – a short and unsatisfactory event that turned out to be more painful than pleasurable).
I contracted a venereal disease as a result of that first encounter (it was WAY before the advent of safe sex), which is how I found out about Sandy. She got it too of course, or maybe she was two-timing before he was, and she got it first and gave it to him – who’s to know? In any case, she blamed him, he in turn blamed me, and I was left, newly de-flowered, alone and holding the proverbial bag – of antibiotics that is.
Not an auspicious start. A sensible woman might have been put off by such an initiation – not me!
Four Decades of Great Sex
I went on to enjoy a series of interesting, if somewhat eclectic boyfriends, including a varsity sports star (who turned out to be somewhat of a prude), an “older” Arab man (he was 21, I was 17, and I was seduced by his stunning black eyes), a quiet skinny little fellow named Stephen (who had an afro and a family that was even more dysfunctional than mine), and, best of all, the campus drug dealer – a Seventh Day Adventist (obviously non-practicing!) and my first real love if I don’t count Peter C. who got his tongue caught in my braces as we kissed during recess one day when we were in Grade 9 (as I recall, the puppy love affair didn’t last long after that).
I won’t go into all the other, hmmmm…. well…. lascivious aspects of a sexual history that now spans almost four decades, other than to say that I’ve lived with a taxi driver in Canada (my first “younger man”), an accountant-turned-painter-barman-and-maker-of-shell-jewelry in Australia (on his sailboat moored near Magnetic Island in Queensland), and a pest control officer in New Zealand (he shot rabbits for a living).
I was also in a monogamous relationship with my now ex-husband B for 20 years. (I was as much in love with him on year 18 as I was the day we got married – how and why it all unraveled is still a bit of a mystery to me.)
Oh yeah… and I worked in a sex shop for two years in my mid-twenties. (Maybe I’ll tell you more about that another time…)
The Voice of Experience – Not!
With all of that under my belt (so to speak lol), one would think I should be able to expound on the topic of men and relationships with considerable authority. But no, to be honest, the sum total of what I understand about the opposite sex could be contained in the tip of my baby finger.
It seems that as I get older, men get curiouser and curiouser – a fact that I’ve come to accept with equanimity. In Eckhart Tolle fashion, I’ve become a keen observer of the dating experience, looking at it as a scientist might do a complex long-term experiment, the hypothesis for which I’ve yet to completely formulate.
A case in point: I recently went on a date with Josh, whom I met through TBW. We had exchanged a few short emails over several months, when he wrote to say he was coming to Duba,i and asked if I would I like to meet for a drink. Why not? Thought I.
Hope Springs Eternal
The date, at least from my perspective, went well. The venue was one of my favourites, a trendy wine bar which happened to be conveniently located in his hotel When I sms-ed to say I would be a little late – taxis are impossibly scarce in Dubai – he responded with “hmmm, the wait will only fuel the anticipation…” It was sounding promising….
We shared a selection of tasty appetizers and a bottle of outstanding Chardonnay. Yummy.
We had a delightful time talking about various and sundry: nothing too serious, nothing too frivolous. He gazed at me like a besotted schoolboy throughout, interrupting me several times to comment on the beauty of my eyes. Nice.
At the end of the evening, he escorted me to a taxi, gave me quick kiss, and called later to make sure I got home OK. Also nice.
He followed shortly thereafter with a text that said something such as: “just to tell you I think you’re beautiful, interesting and sexy.” VERY nice. And the last I heard from him lol. What IS that about?
Hey, wait a minute, maybe there’s something to be said for virginity after all!
Nah.
Never mind that the landscape of my love life during the last four years has been as desert-like as the dunes that skirt Dubai.
Hope still springs eternal (even if other things haven’t of late lol). I’m not ready to be a born-again virgin. Not yet anyway. Far too young for that J
Before I go, I’d like to wish everyone at TBW a Happy New Year.
Susan Macaulay (aka desertfox), Founder, www.amazingwomenrock.com
