The labels prude and slut are often tied with the topic on one’s virginity.
Choosing when to lose one’s virginity has almost turned into a social competition. It is seen as a rite of passage in the game of life that you are expected to unlock by a certain age. At the same time, conflicting stigmas exist surrounding the concept of virginity, which pushes us into the dilemma between keeping our virginity for its perceived “sacrecy” and the need to lose it before it’s “too late”.
The emphasis on losing our virginity has been further perpetuated by today’s pop culture. Movies like “The 40 year old virgin” or literally any coming-of-age movie is centred around the idea of needing to lose one’s virginity as soon as they can.
Virginity is something we are constantly told to obsess over. To keep it, for it is sacred. To lose it at the right time. To lose it to the right person. But then again, don’t wait too long either.
Prude Shaming vs Slut-Shaming
I first remember being prude shamed at the age of 16, when I was shamed for “looking like a virgin”. As confusing as it would have been for a teenager at that age, now as a woman in her 20s, I am still bewildered as to how that comment was insinuated as an insult. After all, we were only 16, barely even of legal age.
On the contrary, I recently had someone tell me that they “would only have sex with virgins”. Do you see the irony?
This brought me to the realisation that oftentimes, most of us (including myself), are conditioned into valuing the opinions of others (and their respective preferences) over our own. Our beliefs are, in fact, subconsciously derived from our perceived value of how others may view us.
Thousands of women today suffer from being prude-shamed or slut-shamed. Though not as common, prude-shaming can be equally as damaging as slut-shaming. Although they seem to be criticisms of 2 polar opposite lifestyles, the very basis of such a shaming stems from condemning someone’s choice of sexual expression. Almost like the sex police, the instigator of prude- or slut-shaming often believes in an ability to control and decide what’s best for other women’s bodies, as if women do not have autonomy over themselves.
Taking the romantic comedy Easy A as an example, the movie showcases the protagonist (played by Emma Stone) getting slut-shamed for being perceived to have lost her virginity, and in turn labelled as the school’s “dirty skank”. While getting harrassed by some for being a slut, she was also praised (mainly by boys) for her promiscuity. The contemporary worldview idealises individuals (particularly women) who have lost their virginity and are seen as more experienced and thus appealing. But then there also exists the hypocritical nature of those who share the previous view, that believe women who are sexually active or promiscuous, will eventually become “loose” sexually; implying that sex with such women will be less pleasurable. Resulting in labels such as “not wife material” or that they “belong to the streets”.
The contrasting views on virginity have become very toxic especially for girls and young women entering sexual maturity. Women’s opinion on virginity has been heavily dictated by society’s perception of and labels on female body autonomy. The idea that one’s virginity determines our value and image in society, is one that is outdated. It is also a social construct used to label and shame women, at the same time elevating those who use virginity and sex as a weapon to condemn and criticize others.
Disparities between the View on the Male and Female Virginity
Boys and men alike are not free from prude or slut-shaming either.
In fact, males get prude shamed more often than females. Boys are taught through hegemonic masculinity ideals that one’s masculinity is defined by him losing his virginity. The concept of hegemonic masculinity as popularised by Connell describes the phenomenon as: a form of identity that is not easily performed or necessarily desirable in itself; indeed it is a prescribed and idealized set of norms rather than reflecting the lived reality of men’s lives.
Such ideals include characteristics typically labelled as “macho”, such as assertiveness, competition and courage. The patterns of masculinity are socially defined, including the common association of taking a woman’s virginity as a dominant ideal for men. This is so as it is seen as asserting one’s masculinity by sowing his wild oats during his youth. As a result, since losing one’s virginity or the ability to take a woman’s virginity is so prized amongst hegemonic masculine ideals, male virgins are often ridiculed and shamed in toxic masculine environments. This is often a major contributor to the insecurities of one’s masculinity amongst boys and men who choose to forgo sex.
On the other hand, girls are often told to keep their virginity for it is a symbol of purity and reserved only for “the one”. The stark contrast between society’s perception of the male versus female virginity, poses a toxic double standard on sexual expression and is a contributor to the prominence of toxic masculinity and toxic femininity in our society. Social norms surrounding sex and losing one’s virginity has turned into a disempowering tool, to emasculate men or shame women. Furthermore, societal expectations may invalidate our sexual experiences or lack thereof, making us feel less of a man or woman.
The obsession with associating sex and our virginity with our innate value as a person carries a degradative connotation to it. In fact, using words like “losing” or “taking” when talking about virginity, implies having a part of our identity taken away from us without consent. Especially in this digital age where sex is talked about more openly, the impact from external sources like social media and pop culture plays a prominent role in shaping our perception of sex and on reaching sexual milestones. It is time we use this to our advantage and remove bigoted beliefs and prejudices surrounding our virginity.
Choosing when and whether to lose your virginity shouldn’t be dictated by societal pressures to conform to what is expected of you. Even if everyone around you seems to be ahead of you in terms of sexual experiences, it does not make you inadequate in any way. Reaching sexual milestones should be a fun, personal process, and a journey towards self-discovery.