I technically lost my virginity to a vibrator I bought online about seven years ago because my best friend said it was really good idea.  I say technically because if you define “virginity” as the presence of a hymen, then that is the anticlimactic story of how I lost my virginity. The previously mentioned sex toy and I had a wonderful relationship for almost a year, but we both knew it could never last. We were both young and needed to move on to better and newer models. We parted on good terms and he will always be remembered fondly in my heart as “my first.”

I really hope after reading that ridiculous story, you realize why the concept of a hymen signifying virginity is absolutely ridiculous.  So, if a hymen does not define virginity, what does?

I’m going to go a little outside the box (pun completely intended) and say this crazy concept of virginity is as expansive and ever-changing as Kim Kardashian’s butt.

Consider a few different scenarios.  Was young Kate not a virgin because her hymen was no longer intact? Is a girl whose first sexual encounter is rape not a virgin?  Is a man who performs oral sex on every blonde woman in his town still a virgin?  Is someone who engages with intercourse exclusively with inanimate objects or themselves considered a virgin?  Is a woman who is impregnated using in vitro fertilization without having intercourse a virgin?  The concept of virginity is completely obsolete in society today. I am urging all of you to consider that virginity is a state of mind, not a state of hymen. Your virginity is only as real as you decide it to be.

The concept of virginity is very archaic by nature, especially considering the social atmosphere of where we live. Men and women alike can walk around New York completely topless, and yet we are still convinced of this idea that virginity and your first sexual experience is something special, while the next 382 experiences are just practice. We don’t consider our first time with anything else a special moment to be shared only with someone deserving, although I was excited about dying my hair for the first time.

Imagine if you had to spend six months with a Taco Bell beefy crunch burrito before you could finally try it because you needed to know it really well before you could enjoy it. People don’t light candles and play soft music for the first time they put in a tampon and consider that pretty similar to sex. No one has ever said no to going to Disney World because they really wanted to only watch Disney movies for a few years, preferring to suffer with 2-D Cinderella instead of living in her castle.

Sex is the only thing that gets so much emphasis for the first experience. People are supposed to preserve their first sexual experience for someone special because apparently only someone who loves you should be allowed to revel in the sexual awkwardness of a body new to sex. To be honest, if I loved someone, I would want to save them from that uncomfortable encounter so they could skip straight to the pro moves. And when you think about it, which is really more fun: sex or a hymen?

The real story of how I lost my virginity is equally as anticlimactic as the first story. We were under the stars, bathed in moonlight, while we were enveloped in soft Florida grass and the sounds of cicadas kept us company in the background. This is all just a really fancy way of saying outside next to a bush.

Maybe your first time was behind a bush, or next to a tree on a farm. Maybe your roommate interrupted to get his weed stash or you had to throw your tampon in the neighbor’s yard because you were too embarrassed to admit you had your period. Maybe you even lost it to me your junior year or with the love of your life who ended up cheating on you. And maybe, virginity isn’t really something you lose, but instead a really funny story you gain.