All The Single Ladies

Halfway through this year I found myself single. Not through my own choice I might add, but I was suddenly thrust into a bubble of uncertainty and complete confusion about what to do with myself now a whole part of my life had been shaken up. And it took a while before I began to settle into single life and remember why being single is actually quite brilliant. 

So often being single is seen as a negative thing which I’m learning couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve not spent much of my adult life single; I was in a relationship until I was 18 and then started a new relationship when I was 21 so I haven’t really experienced being single as a ‘proper’ adult. (And by ‘proper adult’ I mean 21+) At first it felt like a burden and a horrible cross to bear, who wanted to be single and face the prospect of never finding someone ever again? Not me, that was for sure. However since then my view has changed dramatically and I couldn’t be less bothered by my singleton status.

I thought I’d compile a list of all the great things about being single to show that it isn’t all doom and gloom:

- You don’t have to be responsible for anyone but yourself
- You can do what you want, when you want
- You don’t have to worry about someone else’s wellbeing all the time
- You remember that you’re actually a pretty awesome human being on your own
- You can flirt to your hearts content
- You can starfish in bed all night long
- You don’t have to worry about arguments or disagreements over petty things
- You can listen to what you want and watch what you want without criticism/annoying someone else
- You fall in love with yourself all over again
- You don’t have to rely on someone else to please you in the bedroom
- You don’t have to spend money on someone else
- You can be the best version of you

I guess some of these make relationships sound like a negative thing and that couldn’t be further from the truth, but there is this assumption that relationships are the best thing in the world and if you don’t find the right person and marry them then you’ve somehow failed. WRONG. As long as YOU are happy then you can be whoever you want to be and be with whoever you want to be with, if that’s anyone at all.

Right now I feel such a freedom and happiness being single and I can’t imagine getting into a relationship again any time soon (never say never etc) as right now I feel so balanced and happy with how my life is. I’m enjoying having the freedom to find myself again and fall in love with myself both emotionally and physically. It’s so important to get to a stage where you love yourself because if you don’t then you run the risk of getting into a relationship where you accept less than you deserve and you should never sell yourself short when it comes to love. Everyone deserves someone who loves every single atom of them; who loves them with a ferocity that can’t be matched and would do anything for them.

I’m excited to move forward with my life as a single woman and I can’t wait to see what the rest of my life brings! 

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There's something I've been meaning to mention...

So I vaguely hinted several months ago that I wanted to write a post related to Faye's post about her asexuality but then didn't actually write that post for whatever reasons (usually because I'm awful at getting my posts done ahead of when I'm meant to be posting and I didn't really want to rush this one). Yes I may be writing this at 11pm but I can't avoid doing it any longer.

Several of my friends already know this about me as it's something we've discussed at several points over this year, I've gotten more comfortable with owning this aspect of myself although it's probably not something I will be explaining to my parents any time soon because they will likely be a bit confused as to what it means for my long-term relationship. But I digress.

I'm Demisexual. Also Bi (whether sexual/romantic I'm not entirely sure).

Image source

Yeah. That. If you don't happen to frequent the internet bubbles that I usually inhabit, Demisexuality may not be a label that you've come across before. Simply put; if Asexuality is the absence of sexual attraction/desire then Demisexuals reside partway along the spectrum back towards hetero/homo/bi/pan-sexuality. For a super cool comic on Asexuality here's Alice Oseman being staggeringly talented as always.

Demisexuals like me tend to only feel sexual attraction to people we have strong emotional bonds to, e.g. people we're in romantic relationships with. For me it also means that even within a relationship I don't often feel the desire for sex (with a partner anyway but that's another thing...). Until recently this lack of desire bothered me because I thought something was wrong or defective with me that I didn't want to have sex as often as I thought "normal people" should.

I'll be honest, I was fairly late in ditching the imaginary V-card. I was not far off 20 when I "fled the nunnery" as I termed it at the time despite being two and a half years into what ended up as a three year relationship (first of only two long-term bfs, nearing four & a half years with Le Boyf). Not that we were chaste little chaps for all that time but we didn't actually do the entire deed until 2010 and after that no more than a handful of times before we split up.

Then followed 18 months of singledom. Which was fine. When I met for drinks with some school friends during this time they'd lament to me how terrible it was that they'd not had sex for two weeks, I sat there and shrugged saying "talk to me when you're over a year." In actuality I was probably getting off far more than they were and I didn't need or want a bloke for it. I had myself.

I'm sure a lot of Safe Space readers know of Grace Latter and her infamous & brilliant blog post on Female Masturbation. When I read it I was like "yas!" only I was waaaay earlier to this game. At the age of 26 I can actually say that I've been getting mine for half my damn life. All through high school I was never interested in having sex because I didn't really see the need for it when I could dole out my own pleasure as and when I wanted it. No reason to deal with messy teenage boys at all!

In some respects I wonder if this influenced my demisexuality because in the years I wasn't having sex I'd been imagining what it would be like but then when I actually did it, it never felt as mind-blowingly awesome as I'd thought it should and that feeling has persisted. It morphs into anxiety & over-awareness of what I'm feeling and that I'm not enjoying it as much as I think I ought to be which is obviously only going to make me more tense etc.

So I don't have sex very often. And that's totally cool, it doesn't mean I love Le Boyf any less or that our relationship is without physical affection, that's just how I roll as a Demisexual. You get me?

But I should talk about the other flag I fly under. It's become very apparent to me in the last year or two that I don't just find men attractive. I can't tell you how many times I've been scrolling through tumblr, seen a picture of Daisy Ridley and thought "my god, could you *be* any more glorious?" I could start a list of the actresses I find attractive but then this post will be even longer than it is.

Identifying as Bi is slightly more complicated for me as the Demisexual aspect means my attraction to men or women is less "I wanna have sex with you" and more "I am super enthralled by your face/clothes/personality/creative skills and want to mildly stalk you on the internet". Obviously being in a committed long-term relationship means that any attractions I do have will not be acted upon but that doesn't mean I can't flail about on Twitter that I want to marry Kate McKinnon (who doesn't?).

I hope this long-winded tour of my sexuality has cleared up a few things. I know I have confused folk in the past :P It's also really good to get this all out there. *and breathe*

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Guest Post: Gender - That Thing We Made Up by C.M. Golding

Someone on twitter recently said that in fifty years we’re going to look back at binary concepts of gender and shake our heads at how silly we were. Well, I’ve been doing that for a while now and I’d be delighted if more folks would join me but I also get, to a degree, why that’s hard. The biggest reason it can be tough to understand is that we constantly conflate gender and sex. Sex is a medical, physical, biological state that has to do with hormones and genitals. Gender is a completely made up set of rules about what it means to be “feminine” or “masculine.” And it’s that made-up part so very many people refuse to accept.

A recent poll of people under the age of 25 in the UK conducted by The Guardian had nearly half say they didn’t care about labelling their sexuality, which is for many inseparable from gender identity because when you boil down gender politics what people seem to be really obsessed with are genitalia and what gets done with it - as though the physical act of sex is all there is to a human being and, as stated before, not seeing that sex does not equal gender.

As a young girl I was often called a tomboy and as a teen a number of people suspected I was a lesbian. Was it because I seemed interested in girls? Nope. It was because I never minded getting dirty, rarely wore skirts, and wasn’t into makeup. It never really bothered me that people thought I was homesexual, but it should have. Not because that’s a bad thing to be but because their reasons were incredibly gendered and sexist. As I got older, people asked less because I was involved in long-term cis relationships. But I was still often asked why I didn’t wear makeup or dress “nicer,” which is code for skirts. And I was told that if I wanted to be happy and also demonstrate my adulthood, I should start being more feminine. To which I rolled my eyes and bought some more jeans.

I started more deeply questioning society’s obsession with gender and sexuality when I was pregnant for the first time and virtually every person’s initial question was - is it a boy or girl? I asked around and every parent I knew had the same experience. Not only that, but if you said you weren’t finding out or you were but were not telling, people got offended, even angry. A friend who kept it quiet had an older relative aggressively pursue her to reveal her fetus’ sex because otherwise she’d “have no idea what present to get.” Blue or pink still dominate infant clothing choices. I had a woman scold me for putting my infant son in purple because she’d assumed he was a she - as though a mistake like that matters at all.

How can you explain to someone whose ideas of gender are rooted in a binary system that’s man-made and completely subjective? First, find a 13-year-old and explain to them why a flimsy, colored piece of paper with the number 20 inked onto it has value and can be exchanged for goods. The answer is that a long time ago a bunch of guys agreed to have papers represent their debts because it was easier to carry around than gold. Everyone went along with it because when men in power make those kinds of choices the rest of us are just stuck with it. This is my new go-to when discussing gender fluidity with people. I explain to them that the binary idea of male and female is a social construct just like money and it’s just as paper thin.

I believe and have personally experienced with myself and my two boys, who like fairy wings just as much a trucks, that gender is just this thing we made up to explain and separate humans based on physical differences. We did it because our brains like to be able to put things in boxes. We think men are all testosterone and women all estrogen when in reality we all have both of those hormones to varying degrees. Eddie Izzard recently said, in an interview with The Times, that he’s transgendered because he’s got some female genetics and he likes high heels. Well, I’m not trans but I imagine I’ve got some above average testosterone and I hate heeled shoes. Very few of us really fit completely comfortably in the man-box and woman-box; so why do we insist, when others make their own boxes, that they can’t or shouldn’t? Fear is no justification for hatred. In the dark, we look for the light - reach out and find a way.

Bottom line, and here I know Eddie agrees, let’s just all be free and equal people and what other people do with what may or may not be in their pants can be their business.

For more from Clare follow her

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Safe Space Talks Contraception

Deciding what kind of contraception to go on can be tricky and different women prefer different things. Today the Safe Space team are bringing you their contraception stories sharing what did and didn’t work for them so that you can make an informed decision about what you might like to try out and what might work best for your body. Please note that this is just our personal experiences, we aren’t medical professionals and it is always best to speak to a nurse or your GP before deciding on a contraception method.

Jo: I suffer with really severe period pains. After one type of medication failed to help, my doctor prescribed me the contraceptive pill Cerazette. Cerazette is a mini-pill, or a progestogen-only pill (POP), as opposed to a combined pill, which contains progestogen and oestrogen. I was prescribed a mini-pill because I also suffer with migraines, and my doctor believed a combined pill would affect them.

The mini-pill is a pill that you take every day, as opposed to stopping for a week with a combined pill to have your period. The mucus at the neck of the womb is thickened when taking the mini-pill, which makes it harder for sperm to make it’s way to the womb to fertilise an egg. Cerazette contains desogestrel, a synthetic progestogen, which stops ovulation in 97% of periods, meaning in most cases, an egg won’t be released, so my periods, for the most part, will stop. There may be some irregular spotting when you first start taking it, but this is perfectly normal. Although I’m not taking Cerazette for contraceptive reasons, it is a 12 hour pill; you’re supposed to take your pill around the same time every day, but if you forget to take a pill, you must take it within 12 hours of when you were due to take it. If you take it within that 12 hour period, you will still be protected and no other form of contraception will be required, including emergency contraception. However, if you don’t take your pill in the 12 hour window, you should take your pill as soon as you remember, and then as normal, but for two to seven days you won’t be protected, and should use a condom for that time, while using the pill.

I’ve now been taking Cerzette for five weeks. It’s around now, when my next period would have been due had I not been on the mini-pill, that it’s likely I’ll see some spotting, but this has yet to appear. Of the common side-effects of Cerzette, I’ve only really experienced getting a few spots. The leaflet that came with Cerzette actually says “acne” is a common side-effect, so I was thinking I’d get really bad skin with obvious, very sore spots, but that hasn’t been the case. My spots are very faint, more something I’d notice than anyone else, and they’re gone after about a day, with maybe some new ones in other areas of my face. I’ve not even had to bother with medicated concealer, the spots are really nothing to worry about.

It’s around now I would normally start suffering with PMS and sore, swollen boobs, but Cerzette has put a stop to both. So far, so good! I’m really happy with how Cerzette is working for me, and if I have a similar experience with it as Faye (see below), I’ll be a very happy lady!

Debbie: Like many of the others, I was first put on the mini-pill Cerazette when I was about 14. I’d just been diagnosed with polycystic ovaries (PCOS) and it was meant to help relieve some of the symptoms I’d been suffering with, such as period pain and body hair. Which it did, a little. But I dreaded having a period every 4th week, and it seemed to come around far too quickly.

I can’t remember exactly when or why my doctor suggested it, but about 4 and a half years ago they suggested having an implant. An implant is approximately 4cm long, and inserted into the back of the upper arm, and works by slowly releasing progesterone. It’s said to be more than 99% effective against pregnancy. The main bonus for me is not having to take a pill everyday. Thanks to my weird work hours and London life, it was getting harder to remember to take them, especially at the same time. Furthermore, I rarely get periods anymore, usually just under a lot of stress, which I guess causes a hormone imbalance. This is a side effect that a lot of people experience, though some may have heavier periods instead. This was a huge relief to me as period pain is the worst. The implant lasts for 3 years, and I didn’t hesitate at all in getting it replaced last year. While it’s not really an option if you are considering having kids, for me it is the perfect solution right now!

Ray: I was only on the mini-pill Cerazette that Jo’s already talked about for about 5-6 months so this’ll be rather a quick segment. I started taking Cerazette shortly after getting together with my current partner in June 2012 since I’d been single for 18 months prior to that so I thought if I was going to be sexually active again it might be worth giving it a try. The lack of a period break was also a nice incentive to try this pill. I didn’t used to be able to swallow pills but if I was going to be on a contraceptive pill it was kind of important that I did actually take it so I figured out how I could get the pill down (dry-swallow a la House with water to chase it) and phone alarms to remind me what time I should have it. I have to be honest my memory is pretty shoddy about how things were while I was on Cerazette but I vaguely recall that my periods never properly stopped and I spent a lot of time grumbling and cursing that I was bleeding longer and more randomly than when I wasn’t on the pill. Whether this would have eventually stopped I don’t know because unfortunately I ended up having what is probably an uncommon reaction to taking the mini-pill in December 2012.

I did already mention this in my Liveblog your Period post, but for anyone who might not have seen that - I had a bad reaction to Cerazette, my legs came up with a dozen or so weirdly swollen lumps which really flipping hurt. It was so painful to walk and bend my knees that I had to use crutches and in the end had about 6 days off work because I just would not have coped working at school all day. The doctor diagnosed me with having Erythema Nudosem and since I wasn’t on anything else which could have provoked a reaction my Cerazette pill was deemed the culprit and I came off it. I’d rather have the periods. Since then I’ve not tried any other form of contraceptive pill or implant partly from the worry that another method might still cause the same reaction. For me this isn’t too much of an issue as my periods are manageable but one day if I do decide to try some other form of contraceptive I would probably need to consult a doctor first to make sure I found an option that would work for me in the long-term.

Faye: I first started taking a pill when I got my first serious boyfriend at 17. It was only after I was on the pill that I realised how frustrating and irregular my periods were. I was put on Microgynon and sent on my way. This is just one of many combined pills and it is the first pill that doctors are likely to try you with. It has been so long with this pill that I don’t remember why I changed to something else but I know I did. The second combined pill I was on, I’ve already forgotten the name of but that also didn’t work. I was then put on Femodene. For a long time this pill worked for me. It regulated my periods for the first time ever and I had very little, if any pain. I was, in all honesty, over the moon. But then my body started to reject the pill. That’s the only way I can describe it. My periods became heavier, the pain came back tenfold and I started to have the worst mood-swings in history. On top of that, I had a three-week pain cycle and just one week of relief every single four-weeks. It was not a good way to live life. But when I came off the pill, it was still awful. Really painful, really heavy and completely irregular. After lots of trips to the gyno and some tests, the doctor finally prescribed me Cerazette, which as you know now is the mini-pill and I am back in heaven. I haven’t had a period in two years. I have had no pain in two years. I have had no mood-swings in two years. I feel like a normal human being every single day. There have been a few side effects, such as headaches, but I’m prone to them anyway, and I’ve had some “mini-periods” as I call them, when I miss pills (because I am super forgetful) at the wrong time in the cycle, but honestly, I cannot describe how pleased I am not to have periods and period pain anymore.

Joy: We never talk about what a “normal” period is, so it wasn’t until I was 21 that I knew I needed to do something. Every time my period came (which varied between every three and seven weeks), I was in agony to such an extent that I could do nothing. I bled so heavily that I would need to change sanitary towel every hour to begin with, I couldn’t get through the night without leakage and I would have to postpone any social activity that coincided, which was difficult given my periods were so irregular. As I was due to go to university, I needed something that would make my monthly experience tolerable and a Google search indicated a GP may prescribe the pill. After a short appointment where I explained my problem, that was indeed what happened.

The first pill I was put on was, like Faye, Microgynon. It was a miracle cure! I immediately went to four-weekly cycles, absolutely no pain and a manageable amount of bleeding. I only wished I had done something sooner. This pill worked for five years without a problem. Occasionally I would experience a little bleeding mid-cycle, but I was assured that this was okay. However, after those five years, Microgynon was no longer effective. I started to bleed a couple of weeks before I should have and for far longer than usual. My GP told me to keep an eye on it, but indicated that Microgynon is usually prescribed to people early on and it may be that I required something with a stronger dose of hormones. After three or so months of continued problems, I asked for my pill to be changed.

I can’t remember what the next pill I was prescribed was or, indeed, the one after that. Changing my pill a couple of times failed to ease the problem of bleeding too early and I was growing worried that there was something sinister happening in my body. However, I was then prescribed my current pill, which is Lucette. I take this for three weeks and then have a week’s break before starting again. It is in this break, theoretically, that I bleed. I have had a couple more occasions of bleeding early, though to a lesser degree than with previous pills. When I mentioned it to my GP she said that wasn’t the norm, but it does happen and it doesn’t mean that anything is wrong, which was a relief to hear. As long as my periods are fairly regular and lack the immense pain and heaviness of before, I’m grateful. Taking the pill really has made a difference.

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I'm a Bit of a Girl...

When watching a quiz show on television a few weeks ago, a question about boxing was asked. The female contestant looked dumbfounded and was quick to respond with, “I’m a bit of a girl.” Sadly, her response didn’t surprise me. In part, because I’m absolutely certain I’ve used it myself, but also because it’s a statement that goes unchallenged in many circles. This time, however, was the first time that I noticed my shock about the implications of such a comment.

“I’m a bit of a girl” is always used as a derogatory statement. Instead of claiming our femaleness as fact and observing the strengths that we each have, the comment is used as a put-down. It becomes about what you can’t do (“You run like a girl,” or “You throw like a girl”) and prescribes a set of subjects that you shouldn’t be expected to know anything about, in the case of this quiz show. But do we ever hear men saying their equivalent? Whilst claiming our status as women is so often seen as a declaration of weakness, manhood tends to be seen as the personification of strength and capability. If you cry, “you’re a girl,” is thrown as an insult because the sensitivity that we see as a positive when caring for others becomes a put-down if seen in the opposite sex.

If someone had turned to Nicola Adams, current Olympic, Commonwealth and European Boxing Champion, and told her that her womanhood automatically rendered her incapable of success as a boxer, her life would be radically different today. Yet her sport is the same sport that the quiz contestant claimed automatic ignorance about. I’ve overheard many conversations about sports and about careers, with people claiming that they’re not “very lady-like.” But is history really the best measure of what a woman should be? Perhaps we should be looking at what a woman could be.

The vast number of options available, from being doctors to electricians, playing rugby or badminton, demonstrates the vast spectrum of talents seen amongst men, surely showing that gender has very little to do with what we’re gifted at or what we enjoy. Opportunities, no doubt, are far more scarce for women in certain fields, beginning at school when PE lessons are divided into “girl” or “boy” sports. Only 9% of engineeringprofessionals in the UK are female, helped by 80% of Physics A-level students being male. This is despite there being no reason, biologically, why women can’t pursue this career path.

What we stereotype as being the male domain is kept off-limits, with our statements of “I’m a bit of a girl” being used as an excuse. We can’t keep succumbing to an “I shouldn’t know that” mindset and then expect to be provided with more opportunities. To confine individuals to lives guided by their x and y chromosomes, disregards the human capacity for learning and for achievement, whilst society doesn’t benefit from 50% of its inhabitants. If we, the people who so often speak of female empowerment, put ourselves down with our femaleness, we can’t expect others to do any different. It’s time to stand up and claim our place as women as the fact that it is. It’s not weakness, it’s not less. It just is.

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Where Have All of the Labia Gone?

When I was a teenager I thought I had a weird vagina.

In this day and age vaginas are everywhere. It’s easier than ever to access porn thanks to the internet. Whether they’re in a picture, gif or video, vaginas can be found all over the place. But as a teenager, no matter how many different vaginas I saw, they all looked exactly the same and nothing like my own.

Frankly, where have all of the labia gone!?

Back when I was thirteen I didn’t know what labia was (if you’re not familiar, they’re the outer and inner lips that surround the entrance to the vagina) all I knew was that the women in porn and my science text books didn’t have what I have.

And that made me feel like a freak.

Was I not normal?

Was something wrong with me? 

Many years later it turns out that the answer is no. Labia minora (inner lips) and labia majora (outer lips) are a completely normal part of the vagina and I wish this was something that I knew earlier in life so I didn’t have to feel so self-conscious about it.

Even though I now know what a normal vagina looks like and that they all look very different, I’m well aware that there are so many girls out there who feel the same way I did. Labiaplasty – a surgery removing the labia minora – is on the rise with girls as young as fourteen going to their GP asking for the procedure because they don’t think that their vagina looks normal.

The main reason for the increasing popularity of labiaplasties seems to be because teenage girls and young women don’t know what “normal” looks like. Talking about sex is becoming less taboo but it seems that talking about our vaginas is still off topic. Instead girls are relying on porn and text books (seriously sex ed?) to see images of other vaginas which are far from reliable sources.

Many porn stars have had labiaplasty so that the vagina entrance is more visible, so seeing an image of what a natural vagina looks like is hard to come by. With no sex education on the matter is it any wonder that more teenage girls are growing up thinking that there is something wrong with the way that their vagina looks?

Sadly another factor that comes into it is boys. Because teenage boys are also not given any sort of education on what women’s genitalia actually looks like they’re also seeing their first vaginas in porn. I’ve heard of girl’s with completely normal looking labia being referred to as having “hanging ham” or “beef curtains” by their sexual partners. If this has ever happened to you take comfort in knowing that this is down to sheer ignorance on your partner’s behalf. Oh and also? They’re an asshole.

For the record, all vaginas look completely different. The labia minora can be tucked in or stick out, it can be darker or lighter than the rest of the vulva, they can be straight or wavy, thin or thick, wrinkled or smooth, and like boobs one can also be bigger than the other. In length labia can be anything from 0-4 inches long.

I’d really recommend getting a hand mirror and taking a look down there. Find out what is normal for you. I promise that whatever you’re looking at is a completely healthy and ordinary vagina.

There are some brilliant websites out there that are doing fantastic work in educating women everywhere about the diversity of labia. I’d really recommend checking out Love Your Labia and The Great Wall of Vagina for a more accurate viewing of all of the different types of vaginas out there.

I wanted to speak up today because it seems like, once again, society has far too much to say about our bodies. The vagina is just another body part that’s being used to make us women feel inferior. Your vagina doesn’t belong to society or to your partner, it belongs to you. By talking about what looks normal for us we’re raising awareness and busting harmful stereotypes on what a “pretty vagina” should look like.

Remember, if a guy ever tries to shame you about any part of your body then he’s an asshole. No matter what your vagina looks like there will be someone out there who loves it and won’t want to change it to make it a more appealing hole for them to have sex with.

Take a look at your vagina, take a look at other people’s vaginas, if you feel comfortable bring up the topic with someone you trust and know that there’s nothing wrong in doing so. Your vagina belongs to you and I think it’s about time that we all showed our bits a little more love.

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Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee!

I'm 28-years-old and I'm a virgin.

I'm a virgin by choice, but it's not something I really like talking about. I'm not ashamed of being a virgin - as I said, I choose to be - but I'm tired of the shock on people's faces when I say so, their exclamations of, "Why?!", the disbelief in their voice. Immediately after the shock, I can tell from their faces, without me having said another word yet, their judgemental thoughts. We live in a society where being a virgin past your late teens is unacceptable. If you're not having sex as a teenager, you're weird. You're also "frigid". That, or no-one wants you, because you're so ugly. Or you're a lesbian*. Maybe an ugly lesbian.

What?!

There is so much pressure to lose your virginity at a young age - not necessarily because you want to, but because you don't want do deal with all the crap from others, you don't want to be that girl. Nor do you want to be the last virgin in a group of experienced friends. It's also some kind of stamp of approval: I have had sex, so I'm wanted, ergo I am attractive. Also, no teenage boy** is going to stick around if you don't "put out". A lot of girls will have sex not for their own pleasure, but to please their sexual partner. I remember my best mate telling me he was on the bus once when he overheard two young teenage girls talking. One said to the other, "He'll like me if I give him a blow job." Does that not make you feel so unbelievably sad?

Not only should you not be a virgin, but you should also have a certain level of sexual experience. It almost seems like guys feel it's a given that you would be happy to perform certain sexual acts, or have sex in certain positions. I think this is probably down to porn; these acts, these positions are just what's done. Is there really any conversation any more between sexual partners - at any age - about what they're both comfortable and happy with, and what they're not?

Back to me. I am a virgin because, for me, sex has to mean something. As a teenager, I wasn't as interested in boys as my friends were; I fancied boys, but I didn't want to kiss them, let alone anything else. It just wasn't what I wanted, what I was ready for. And I wasn't going to be dictated to, and forced into having sex with someone when I didn't want to, because it was uncool to be a virgin. I feel the same way now; I will not have sex if I'm not ready for it.

As things stand now, I wouldn't say I'm not ready to have sex in general, but as sex must mean something to me, there has to be that relationship there; there needs to be trust, and while I don't think I necessarily have to be in love with the guy, there has to be feelings involved, from both of us. I am not in a relationship, and so I've not had sex. Perhaps if I had been a number of years ago, I would no longer be a virgin.

I have no problem with other people having casual sex, but that's just not for me. The idea of a meaningless one night stand is a massive turn off. There is nothing about the idea that appeals to me. I did flirt with the idea of casual sex once. As a child, I was brought up being told that sex is something that happens between two people when they love each other. I know this isn't the case now for everyone, but it's an idea that stuck with me. I wondered if how I felt about sex was down to how I'd been brought up. Does it have to mean something because that's what I actually want, or does it have to mean something because I'm a "good" girl, and that's what I was brought up to believe? So when a really hot guy made it pretty clear all he was interested in was sex, I did think about it. Did I want to have sex with him? He definitely turned me on, and I enjoyed thinking about it... but in the end, the thought of actually having sex with him, when we meant nothing to each other, just left me feeling cold. So this isn't down to how I was brought up, but what I actually feel.

And so far, it's not been much of a problem. I've had two sexual experiences. One wasn't so great; the guy tried to lead us in a certain direction, and when I stopped him, he responded with, "I didn't think so." And although he acted like it wasn't a problem, he continued to try several times more, and I kept having to stop him. He was a bit of a dick, and was quite selfish, to the point where I wasn't being turned on by what he was doing, and I seriously worried I was one of those people who wouldn't enjoy sex.

The second time was a million times better. The guy didn't have any problems whatsoever with me being a virgin. He was perfectly happy to go at my pace, and would check I was happy with and enjoying what was happening, and ask if he could do this or do that. He stopped when I asked him to, and didn't go further than I wanted. He was ok with me not being ready to for certain things. He never rushed me, or pressured me, or expected anything more than what I was comfortable with. He was patient and unselfish. He made it all about me and my enjoyment. And it was amazing.

I do sometimes worry that I'm too old to still be a virgin, that no guy my own age would be willing to wait for me when he could quite easily get his leg over with someone else, whether in or out of a relationship. But I won't be made to feel I must have sex with a future boyfriend in order to get him to stay. Because of my second sexual experience, I already know it's not a problem for some.

I will not be told when to have sex. This is my body, and I get to choose what I do with it, when, and with whom.

And so do you. Your body - and your virginity - belongs to you. Everyone's experiences will be different, there's no right or wrong, it's about what you're comfortable with. We don't have to do anything we don't want to. We should not feel pressured into anything. And there's nothing wrong with exercising your right to say, "No."

There is absolutely no shame in being a virgin.

*I'm sure we all know that being a lesbian is not a bad thing. These are all the cruel things I heard shouted out in the school playground from immature teenagers, mainly boys. This isn't what I think.

**I'm not trying to be heteronormative. This post is based on my personal experience and that of those I knew when I was a teen.



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Growing Up With Big Boobs

For most of my life I’ve had big boobs. In my experience that phrase strikes envy into the hearts of women far and wide. Having a fuller bust is something that is praised and celebrated in our society and means that you’re one step closer to that “perfect body” that we see splattered across television screens, magazines and posters everywhere.

But in my experience having big boobs has been far from ideal.

I was an early developer. My boobs appeared literally over night when I was ten years old and I hated them with a passion. I hated the feeling of having to wear a bra, I hated that I still had to get undressed for PE lessons in front of the boys in my class, and I hated how these two bumps on my chest suddenly made me stand out amongst my peers.

One of my earliest negative experiences with my boobs is from one lunch time, back when I was in junior school. My “friends” wouldn’t talk to me and had spent our entire lunch break whispering behind my back. I was so upset and didn’t know what I’d done wrong. I ran to the girls toilets in floods of tears only for a girl I barely knew from the year below me to ask if it was true that I stuffed my bra to get boys to notice me? Because that was the rumour that a girl I considered a friend had started about me that lunch time.

I remember sitting in the bath that night wishing as hard as I could that these things would go away so that I could have my friends back, so people would stop talking about them, so I could be a kid again. I was so upset and disgusted by my body that I faked sick for the rest of the week so I wouldn’t have to go into school.

The first time I remember being street harassed was when I was walking down the road to my friend’s house. I must have been around twelve years old. It was summer, I had on a tank top, and I was making the short walk over to the next street from my house when a group of middle-aged men in a work van slowed down and shouted “Show us your tits, love! Go on! Get them out!” I was twelve years old and I was terrified. I crossed my arms over my chest and ran the rest of the way to my friend’s house with them following along honking the van horn and laughing. Sadly, this would be the first of many incidents throughout my life where men would feel that it was okay to comment on my boobs in public.  

Things only got worse when I went to secondary school. By then I was a thirteen year old girl with a C cup chest - mix that in with a school full of horny teenage boys and well, let’s just say that it was like a lamb walking into a field full of lions.

New rumours flew around that I was a slut and that I’d let boys touch my chest. Boys would reach out and try and grope at them in school corridors. I got asked out a lot by older boys who thought that me having big boobs automatically meant that I was up for sex, and that because we were going out that they had a right to it.

Occasionally, if one of the PE teachers was off sick, the girls and boys would have to do PE together. One time I remember a particularly excruciating hour of trampolining - let me tell you that was a show and a half for the boys in my year group and something that makes me wince even when I think back on it today.

For the longest time I hated my boobs. They didn’t feel like mine but something that belonged to other people and something people could judge me on. It felt like everybody had something to say about my body and my sexuality in relation to my chest size. As a shy, awkward, teenager, I had far more questions asked about my boobs than I was comfortable with and experienced things like people asking if they’re real, boys only being interested in one thing, and street harassment on a daily basis.

I finished school as a D cup and now as an F cup still experience these things from time to time. It certainly helps that I’m not in a testosterone filled high school environment anymore. As an adult woman my problems now usually involve back pain and trying to find a store that carries my bra size.

Having a large chest can be such a coveted thing for women, but for me personally it’s something that I’ve always struggled with. I’d love to be able to say to you that this is all a thing of the past and that I now love my boobs but although I’ve gotten better I’m still not there yet, but I’m working on it.

Having big boobs can be far from ideal. They can draw unwanted attention, cause physical problems from the weight and are often used as a comical talking point. I hope I’ve shed some light on that by sharing my experiences of growing up with big boobs today.

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