What My First Time Taught Me About Sex

What did you learn the first time you had sex?

smiling girl thinking in bed

It is an indisputable fact that I'm a perfectionist. I obsess over the most minute and tangential details. I ruminate on the inane. I become so preoccupied with the particulars that I lose sight of the big picture. Whoever coined the phrase, "You can't see the forest for the trees" was definitely referring to someone like me.

My first time having sex, however, caught me more than a little off guard. Despite my best laid plans—plans that involved losing my virginity in a suite at the Ritz to someone of Jared Leto caliber—it happened spontaneously, and I had no control over the details. When my crush whipped out the condom he'd been trying to use on me for the last six months, I surprised both of us when, this time, I didn't say no. Lose Your Virginity Kit


The imperfections quickly became apparent as I began my characteristic, stream-of-consciousness obsessing. This hurts. Is it too late to enter a convent? Can Jews enter convents? I'm going to need stitches. If I have to get stitches, then my mom is going to find out. If my mom finds out, I am totally going to be grounded. Why is he still wearing that stupid hat? I am going to rip that dumb thing off his head. That's better. Wait‚ what the heck is this music? Is this Cypress Hill? I'm losing my virginity to Cypress Hill?!

Very few times in life have I been blessed with the momentary ability to see past small flaws and appreciate a larger experience. Fortunately for me, probably due to the sheer magnitude of the event, losing my virginity was one of those rare moments.


You've waited years to do this, the voice in my head said.

This is supposed to be fun. Stop over-thinking it, the voice continued.

Who you tryin' to get crazy with, ese? Don't you know I'm loco? Oh, wait. That wasn't the voice in my head. That was Cypress Hill rapper B-Real.

And so, heeding the sage advice running through my head, I let it all go. If only for a brief moment in time, I eased up. I didn't obsess or fixate or over-think. I didn't analyze or dissect or agonize. I took in the moment's perfect imperfection and let it be. I think I even laughed. 5 Funny Sex Injuries

For once in my life, I enjoyed the, ahem, ride, and tuned out everything that didn't matter: the state of his bedroom (no luxury suite), the less-than-ideal soundtrack and that ridiculous hat, which he actually stopped, mid-act, to put back on. For a moment, I ignored all that was inconsequential. For a moment, I relaxed. And that feeling, in and of itself, was perfect.


I will always be the perfectionist, that girl who gets overly caught up in the details. And frankly, my first time did not sync up with the choreographed deflowering on Ritz Carlton 1000-thread-count sheets I'd mapped out in my head years earlier. However, I was fortunate to have had a first time that dramatically shaped my outlook on sex in a positive way.

There are times when striving for perfection matters, and obsessing over the minutiae is appropriate, but sex isn't one of them. Sex is about momentarily relaxing and savoring the experience, not about going insane (in the membrane).