more on virginity

Interestingly enough, I came across the term "virgin" in a different book. I recently finished The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd. (Good read. I recommend it.) She researched "virgin" and found out that in the past, it had nothing to do with being sexually inexperienced. To say a woman was a virgin was to say that the woman belonged to herself. She was independent. No man claimed her.

I think I knew this before, but forgot.

She went on to explain how women would bathe to restore their virginity (more explanation than The Holy Book gives) and once again I felt full of...I don't know...hope? power? peace?

One thing I know is that I've never been comfortable belonging to a man. I was married. Whenever anyone referred to me as "so-and-so's wife", a part of me would shrink back. It took a few marriage licenses for me to go through with the wedding even though the entire thing was my idea. Growing up, I'd always envisioned myself in a house full of children, but I never had a man with me. I never had a husband.

Lately, I've been working out what it must mean that I've never wanted a man in my life. I like having sex with them. Sure. But, beyond that, I've never understood why anyone would want one around for long periods of time.

I think, though, that for so long, I was afraid of what my lack of desire for a man meant. I knew I liked them (in general), I knew they were entertaining, but I also knew I didn't want to live with one forever. I often tried to imagine the ex and I growing old together and I never could. I can imagine myself old just fine, though. I look forward to it.

And, now...now, I'm mateless and I really enjoy it. Males require mothering and I don't want to mother anyone unless I'm it's actual mother. Males require attention and after about an hour, I want them to either shut up or point me to the bedroom. Whenever I think about living with an adult, it's always a female. I know there are women who truly enjoy the men they live with, but I have never been one of them. I didn't enjoy my fathers, my brothers, my past lovers, my ex-husband. Not for long periods of time. I liked them in spurts; then, I wanted them to go away.

It wasn't until I was actually married that I started to wonder why I never saw myself with a man long-term. I think I thought that bringing one into my life on a permanent basis (I was convinced we'd be married for at least 50 years) was going to change that. I think I thought that doing it would be the antidote to not wanting it. I think I thought something was wrong with me that I didn't want or need a man in my life.

And, I think my mother may be to blame.

My mother had a father, but he was married to a woman who was not her mother. He had children with his wife. He visited my mother, showing her the gifts he had for his other children. She hated him. Of course, that's not true. She was angry with him and she loved him fiercely, but she could never admit that to herself. She wanted a father. She felt like she mattered less because she didn't have one in her home and because of how he treated her during his visits.

I grew up being told what a man had to do for me to be worth my time. I grew up hearing that to have a child while unmarried was the most heinous of sins. I grew up knowing that my mother would disown me if I ever had a child out of wedlock.

Of course, I did it, anyway. Twice. I lied to her about it. Then, we stopped speaking. Then, something in me felt evil and wrong and it wasn't me...it was my mother. But, I didn't know that at the time.

All I knew was that I wanted babies. Lots of them. And, there was no point in buying sperm when the streets are flooded with it. I had a guy who took care of me. He was an asshole, but arguing with him helped me feel like a strong woman. Our arguments helped me prove to myself that I was independent and no man could rule me. Eventually, our arguments only proved how wrong we were for each other. I had children to raise and they deserved better than the male role model I had given them. I left him.

I took back my virginity.

Recently, a man told me I'm looking for a prince to come in and sweep me off my feet. I laughed. I told him he was wrong, but he disagreed. Whenever we are together, he insists I have a man somewhere. A man I belong to. A man I answer to. He insists because the alternative...that I truly belong to no man because I choose not to...is too much for his classically territorial and sexist mind to grasp. If a woman doesn't want a man, what does that mean for a man? That's what he wonders. I see it in his eyes when he stares at me while we kiss.

I feel sorry for all the men who have been convinced that they are worth being in relationships with simply because they exist. The world has not prepared them for real life. The world has not prepared them for real women.

I have a new understanding of what it means to take someone's virginity. And, I know it's not possible to take mine. It never has been.