I was 16-years-old when I met my husband. We were so in love. We were that high-school-hormones-never-left-each-other’s-sides-oh-my-gosh-lets-post-another-selfie-of-us-kissing in love. It was actually gross. I’m glad we’ve out-grown that phase of our lives (I don’t think we actually have…we just stopped posting kissing selfies because #aintnobodygottimeforthat). What comes across as the biggest shocker to most is the fact that we waited to have sex. And an even bigger shock is that both of us were virgins when we finally did have sex.
Prom 2010. Baby us. So young. So obsessed with each other.
Rewind to when Cecilia was an innocent 13-year-old, unaware that in just three years she would be meeting her future husband. She willingly decided to take a vow of chastity until she found the one whom she would promise herself to for the rest of her life. (I don’t think a 13-year-old is mature enough to make this decision, but I made it and I was sticking to it!) At the time, I didn’t really know or understand why I was taking this vow. I’m sure it was mostly because I am Catholic and being raised in a very devout family my faith was (and still is) a huge part of my life. I knew that this choice would make my parent’s proud! And I was all about doing anything to make my parent’s proud. (I’m pretty sure I haven’t outgrown this either. I’m obsessed with my parents. They’re badass. They raised 8 kids and still haven’t gone insane. Miracle workers, those guys.) As time went on and more of my friends were diving farther into their sexuality and experimenting with their significant others, I was wondering if I had enough ibuprofen to get me through the day since my braces had just gotten tightened that week. It was a rough time for me. I attended a very small, private school where they separated the boys and girls so I didn’t even have to think about my sexuality. I just had to worry about soccer practice and if I was getting cast in the musical or not.
Talk about a #TransformationTuesday. Yikes.
Before I knew it I was 16. The braces came off, I was a little less lanky, and I finally figured out that I probably shouldn’t wear khakis everywhere I went. I switched schools my junior year of high school from my small private school (there were 20 girls in my class, that’s it) to one of the largest public schools in the area (I graduated with 505 people in my class). Talk about culture shock. This poor little Catholic school girl was about to get introduced to a completely different life style. It was here that I met my husband. We were both in the fall play and when I first met him I thought he was the worst. Slowly he weaved his way into my heart and before I knew it we were four months into a relationship and he was giving me a promise ring for Valentine’s Day (swoon).
Eventually it came time for our relationship to move to the next level. We had gotten really good at making out. Let me tell you, we were puttin’ in work, but I still had a promise to keep. I wasn’t giving it up to this 17-year-old high school loser who was graduating in four months knowing we’d probably break up at that point anyway. College girls are much cooler than you, Cecilia, you know this. You are not naive. So one day I brought up the dreaded topic, which probably happened something like this:
Driving down the road, listening to our favorite band.
Cecilia: “Just so you know, I’m waiting to get married to have sex. I love this song!”
Turns up the music.
Much to my surprise without missing a beat he responded with, “Great. You just let me know what you are and are not comfortable with. We’ll take it at your pace.”
W.H.A.T. Are you telling me that I found a guy who respected me enough that he was willing to put off having sex just because he cared that much about me? THANK YOU, GOD! I knew this whole “respect yourself and others will do the same” mindset would pay off.
My husband’s face after I told him he wasn’t gettin’ the goods anytime soon. “Greeeaatt…”
However, it was at that point that I didn’t really know why I was deciding to wait. I had no idea why I had told him that. I knew eventually he would ask and I would need to know. I spent that entire night in my room reflecting on why I truly felt like I should wait until I met my husband to have sex. This is what I discovered about myself that night:
I decided to wait because I knew that there was a possibility of me meeting other guys, dating other guys, and falling in love with other guys. I wanted my husband to be different. I wanted my husband to receive something from me that no one else in this world will ever receive. I can tell other people that I love them. I can share kisses with my family, my friends, my children. I have secrets with other people. Sex was the only thing that I could give to my husband that would be his and only his. I would be giving myself to him completely and to me that was the most beautiful gift I could give.
Others may disagree and often do. I’ve been told that I was just being ignorant in waiting. What if we ended up not being sexually compatible? Was I not interested in seeing what other options I had before I decided on committing myself to just one guy for the rest of my life? What if he sucked at having sex? But here’s the thing, because we took that off of our plate, we got to know each other so well on such an intimate level that there was no question on whether or not we would be sexually compatible with one other. We were 150% comfortable with each other, with where we stood in our relationship, with what we wanted from each other, that it has never been an issue for us.
We were aware that somethings may be awkward and uncomfortable. Our first time was FAR from glamorous. We decided to do it on the living room floor. Don’t ask me why. There was a perfectly good bed in the other room. It lasted all of 30 seconds before I was like “I’m not really feeling this right now” and we stopped. Neither of us came. (I’m pretty sure I didn’t orgasm during sex until 3 months after we started having it.*) Afterwards we decided to get milkshakes and talk about how no one in the restaurant knew that we had both just lost our virginity. We laughed, we said we’ll try again tomorrow, and we moved on. Since then we have learned so much about each other. I learned that sometimes not even sex can convince him to turn off his video games and he’s learned that there’s about an hour and a half block of time when I come home from work to initiate before I pass out.
That man will be my one and only forever and I could not be happier when I think about all of the fun we will have experimenting with each other along the way.
Also, look how f***ing adorable we are! There’s no way we weren’t going to be sexually compatible. Bye to all the haters.
*Newsflash to all my newbies out there who think it won’t hurt for a while once you start having sex, it does. But it gets better. SO much better. Pinky promise.