By Beth Brennan

When I met Jack, I felt pretty much every romantic, clichéd feeling ever — fireworks crackling, the imaginary sound of opera music, weak knees … the whole nine.

I decided when I was young that I wanted to wait for sex until I fell in love. The problem was, that being an incurable romantic often means being incurably picky. Oh, I dated — a lot. But if I didn’t feel the lightning bolt, I tended to break things off after one or two dates. By age 21 — though not for lack of opportunities — I was still a virgin.

And then finally, I found the one. Here I was, in love with Jack; and, conveniently, he loved me too. Which is why we decided not to have sex.
Jack was an “accidental” virgin too — certainly not opposed to sex, but a total gentleman who made it a point never to push boundaries with girls. He’d never clicked with anybody enough to take things to the next level. For Jack, it was a matter of not finding the right person.

For me, it was a combination of not landing the right guy and the religion in which I was raised. I certainly don’t go around preaching abstinence to everyone; it was just something I practiced personally. When we realized that we were novices in the effects of sex on a relationship, we made the decision to make sex something we worked on together, as a married couple.

What Made it Difficult (Besides the Obvious)

Abstinence seems to be a touchy subject these days. I’m just one of those girls who realized she’d have to be over the moon for a guy before she could fathom him seeing her naked. Call me crazy, but I think intimacy comes with time. Sure, it was really annoying being asked constantly how hard it was hard to refrain, why I didn’t want to try sex, and getting called a prude (an awful lot). The truth was, until Jack, I’d never really wanted a guy bad enough to sleep with him.

Full disclosure: It was an incredible relief not to have to worry about his sexual past. No ex-girlfriends, no STDs, no competition to live up to. But our first time was a train wreck. Glorious and really intimate — but a train wreck, nevertheless. But it got better eventually! Way, way, way better.

I’ll Never Have Sex With Anybody Else … and I Don’t Care

Now that I’m married, people ask me if I’m worried that I missed out on having sex with other guys. You know, I don’t think I was genetically coded that way. Plus, why would I need someone else to sleep with when the love of my life fulfills me, loves me, and truly knows me in the way no potentially awful, potentially regrettable, sweaty, thick-necked frat dude could have.

I realized this sounds really old-fashioned, but I’m not advocating you quit your career and start baking pies. But isn’t it as crazy as the frequency with which my friends call me in a panic after a regrettable one-night sexcapade with a guy they’ll never speak to again?

I think with every guy, it’s not totally outrageous for you to ask yourself if you trust him with your body — and your heart. If you feel comfortable and ready, then you have my blessing (not that you need it). So yeah — I’ll never experience sex with anybody else. But I’ll also never experience the crap that so many of my beautiful and intelligent friends go through in the name of sex. I thank God for my husband every day, and thanks to him, I’ve never, ever questioned my value based on the fact that the guy didn’t call me the next day … ‘cause the guy lives here.