Last month I mentioned having participated in a shoot. What I didn’t say was that Glenn Glaser and Nerve were shooting two different features that day. I was hoping they wouldn’t run the second one, or that if they did my picture would not be chosen. No such luck.
On Thursday I got an email from a friend who noticed it on Nerve. Since I was not blogging and had limited computer access, I had some time to think about whether I wanted to mention it or not. Was leaning towards not. Then yesterday Lizz reacted with surprised expletives at finding my mug on Jezebel.
Both the original feature and the abbreviated version on Jezebel have sparked not so much discussion as sharing. Virginity, having it, losing it, giving it, is something we can all relate to in one way or another. Even the briefest of comments hold stories that speak of what we all have in common – moments of vulnerability, dreams, fears, and the desire to love and be loved.
I can’t remember if I was eighteen or nineteen, but I remember everything else very clearly. I fancied myself an independent free thinker not bound by the demands of society and tradition. Having grown up in a strict Catholic household and spoon-fed daily rosaries at vespers, I was determined not to wait until marriage.
Oh, no sir! I did not wait. I did it weeks, maybe even months before we got married when I was nineteen and he was twenty-one.
And that was ex-husband #1.
