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| The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women |
The Purity Myth is Jessica Valenti's third book. I've been struggling to get this post started, because how do you talk about something that could potentially be so touchy and divisive? How can I explain why something that is so taboo and offensive to so many people should really be the opposite? If I can't convince you in a blog post, maybe I can at least convince you to read the book.
Because it asks the question: What is so inherently wrong with sex? Safe, consensual, respectful sex? Well, nothing. People can criticize your refusal to use a condom (which is really stupid-use a condom), they can say you're not respecting yourself, they can say you're doing it with too many people. Sex can never be wrong, only irresponsible. And then, people aren't criticizing you for having sex, are they? They're criticizing your irresponsibility. And I emphasize that sex can never be wrong because it only is in cases where consent is not given, and that's not what we call "sex." We call that rape or assault.
But still, it's a question many are afraid to ask, especially as others such as "are you a virgin?" and "what's your number?" (both of which I hear all the time in TV shows, movies, magazines, and have even been asked on at least a few occasions) are so prevalent. We live in a virginity obsessed world that shames the non-virgins and praises the chaste, regardless of character, and I just want to remind you that it's a world that doesn't even have a medical definition for virginity. For something that doesn't even really exist, we are obsessed with protecting it. And if your answer to my first question, what's so wrong with sex, is something to do with the bible or God, then by all means, stick to your guns, but it's not a reason to teach this in our schools. Remember that separation of church and state thing? For whatever reason, we've allowed religious values to be taught in schools under the guise of protecting young women, instead of arming them with the knowledge of how to protect themselves.
Yes, I'm talking about abstinence only education. I think I reached that age right around the time all this crap was really taking off. I remember being a young, impressionable high school freshman in a room full of other young, impressionable freshmen. After hearing a week's worth of fear-based propaganda from a hip group of abstinence pushers, who I can't remember the names of, one of the other kids asked "So what if we do have sex? Should we wear a condom?" The response wasn't yes, you should, but an abruptly concise, "We're saying you shouldn't have sex."
One of the speakers was a 27 year old girl who'd only ever kissed one guy. She asked us to describe a virgin. Many of the answers were relatively neutral, but when one person yelled out "prude," she stopped and told us that we were actually describing her (cue gasps of shock and awe from the crowd). And she said, "I'm not a prude!" and proceeded to describe herself (and all other 27 year old virgins) in the best light possible. Responsible. Caring. Self-respecting. Smart. Because virginity defines all these things in a person...?
I've never understood why virginity, or lack thereof, has a bearing on a person's character. I've never understood why you were a different or worse person depending on whether or not you've had sex (of course, now I know that you're not). There was a girl in my high school who was, we'll say, very in touch with her sexuality. We'll call her Helen. Helen was a bit infamous for sleeping around. I didn't really know her very well, but we had taken the same driving course and had eaten lunch together a couple times, and she seemed friendly enough. I remember a particular conversation I had with a close friend of mine, in which she referred to Helen as a "total bitch." And in my genuine surprise, I asked why? What had she done? My friend looked at me as though the answer was obvious. Well, she'd slept with nearly half the school! And I was actually confused. Why does that make her a bitch? Why does sleeping with a lot people make her mean? Why does her sexuality define her kindness?
It's a strong theme in Valenti's book: According to society's definition of a good person, a girl must avoid sex and sexuality. While boys are told to be honest and hardworking, girls are told that our goodness is heavily dependent on our ability to not have sex. And it doesn't take long to see that most of this is hawked at the young girls more than the boys. We're (wrongfully, I should point out) taught early on that boys are more sexual and less emotional. As such, Valenti says, women and girls are seen as "the gatekeepers of sex," and the ability to have sex becomes the woman's responsibility. This is more harmful than you might think. First, it implies that women who do want sex (which is all of them*) are slutty. Second, it begs the question, if she was raped, she must have allowed herself to be raped to some degree...right?
I want to lose virginity-no, I don't mean having sex for the first time, but rather this enigmatic, meaningless idea of virginity (Do lesbians never lose their virginity? What if I've never had a penis in the vagina, but I've given 500 blow jobs?) that actually defines someone's worth as a person. Because if I ever have a daughter, I am going to be much more concerned with protecting her physical safety than telling her not to participate in things. If she wants to ride a bike, I'm not going to tell her no and show her photos of horrible bike crashes. I'm going to buy her a helmet. If she tells me she wants to have sex with her boyfriend, I'm going to get her on birth control and buy her a box of condoms. If I ever have a daughter, I'm going to be much more concerned with her character, and teaching her to be an honest and patient and kind and friendly and compassionate and outgoing and hardworking and informed and good person before I ever tell her that all she needs to do to be "good" or "respected" is simply not have sex.
When we're so obsessed with protecting virginity and defining young girls' worth based on it, what's left is such a confusing dichotomy of the heartless slut and purity princess, and I'm with Valenti on this one: I think most girls are going to choose the option that allows them to have sex (albeit horrible guilt-ridden sex). At least the "slut" can be dynamic, while the girl who's pure-or society's definition of her-is anything but. She's quiet, submissive, un-opinionated. To be clear, I'm not saying this is how abstinent girls are or how they should be, but Valenti makes the strong case that this is what abstinence pushers want: to define women by something so passive as their ability to not have sex. Meanwhile, the "sluts" of the world are either bitchy, bad eggs, heartless, or they're misguided, depressed, lacking in self-respect. Either way you go, it can never be that they just genuinely enjoy sex and the person (or people, whatever) they have it with.
The most resonating theme in The Purity Myth is that while those advocating for purity want to protect young girls from the oversexualized, objectifying media, the message is still the same to women: "A woman's worth lies in her ability-or her refusal-to be sexual. We're teaching American girls that...their bodies and their sexuality are what make them valuable."
One of the things I love most about this book is that, however much this might surprise you, it does not shit on the idea of staying abstinent until marriage. When I was fifteen, my church held a purity event for the kids in my youth group. Why the elders at the church were concerned with a group of fifteen year olds' sexuality escapes me, but here you have it. My parents didn't pressure me to go, but in the end I did because it was a purely social thing. All my friends were going. The boy I really liked was going. So I wanted to go.
And it was a long night in a dark room, while the pastor told us from his lit-up stage that sex was a gift from God, but it was reserved only for married people (sorry, gays! you never get to receive it!) and a girl with the most beautiful voice sang lyrics like "I will wait for you, will you wait for me too?" In the end, they gave us a box with a little silver ring inside that we're supposed to replace with our wedding band on the day we get married. (Side note-I'm really glad they didn't do the traditional dad-presents-daughter-with-promise-ring, because I find that shit really creepy, as if my sexuality belongs to my dad or something, ew.) It was a lovely night that completely disregarded a person's individual journey through this wonderful and confusing human experience. No one should argue against abstinence. Sex, just as anything you do voluntarily, should be defined for you, by you. If you enjoy one-off flings, no one should shame you for that (barring safety and self-respect, of course). If you want to give sex more meaning, you should absolutely do that, and your partners should respect that. If you want to wait until your wedding night, I absolutely respect that choice. But it does not make you a better person, just as someone else having sex on a first date does not diminish the value of your monogamous sex with one person your entire life. Abstinence is not bad, or wrong, or better. The only "right" thing you can do is doing what's right for you. And don't let people tell you you're less of a person if you've had a penis inside you, okay?
Go anywhere; Be anything.
*Apart from all the people who identify as asexual, a sexual orientation with which the person does not feel any sexual attraction or has a low interest in sexual activity. These people make up the following demographic: unmarried females = 14–19%, married females = 1–3%, previously married females = 5–8%, unmarried males = 3–4%, married males = 0%, and previously married males = 1–2%.[32]
