I'm a 39-Year-Old Woman Who's Never Had Sex

I’m a 39-year-old attractive woman, and I’m a virgin. I’m agnostic, so this is not about religion. I’ve used dating apps, and I made out with cute men in bars with no alcohol in my system, so I’m not shy or reserved. Mostly, it’s a case of stats, expectations, and bad luck. 

I have always been a late bloomer. I was 15 when I started to pay attention to my looks; I had my first kiss at 17. I’ve always had a case of not liking many people, so my dating life was never super-active. 

My friends thought I was picky. I thought they weren’t picky enough. I just wanted someone I clicked with. I wanted love and romance, but I was comfortable on my own. Comfortable enough that I wouldn’t put up with just anyone not to be single.

It didn’t help that I liked boys who didn’t smoke, who were good at communication, and who were taller than my 5’9”. I used to think these needs narrowed my dating pool just because I lived in Turkey where so many men smoke. And they can be too controlling or too nonchalant. I’ve always been surrounded by men who call their girlfriends 20 times a day, and dictate what they can and can’t wear. Luckily, these men are easy enough to spot. However, you also have the opposite end of the spectrum: Men who call you once a week and consider you lucky because they make time to see you. Unfortunately, this type shows his true colors after you start seeing them.

And then there are the mommy issues. They're common in Turkey due to the culture where Balkan, Middle East, and Mediterranean approaches intersect. Women put up with “monsters-in-law” to make the marriage work. No woman is ever good enough. Men don’t mind because the moms encourage their sons’ unwillingness to do housework, show emotional growth, or be equal partners. Obviously, everyone isn’t like this. But this dynamic has caused so many break-ups over the years that I’m surprised Freud hasn’t risen from his grave.

I’m sometimes frustrated, but not sexually. I am more annoyed at my bad luck.

Still, having traveled a lot and interacted with people from a variety of countries, I’m convinced my issue is not just about location. Women everywhere seem to be having similar problems, whether it’s dating or finding a sexual partner they trust.

Part of what's prevented me from having an active sex life is that I am both romantic and fun-loving. Allow me to explain: When men hear the word “romantic,” they assume you want a serious relationship. They think poetry, flowers, and The Notebook. They hear “fun-loving” and think you are down for casual sex. A  guy from Tinder asked me when we could have sex during our first date, and I hadn’t even finished my coffee yet. (And no, there was no second date.) 

I once kissed a cute stranger in a bar (with his consent, of course) to see what it’d feel like. Nothing. I had exciting experiences with a few guys I met in bars after we chatted for hours. And the make-out sessions that followed were hot. But it wasn’t enough for me to want to have sex with them. For a long time, I wanted my first time to be in a relationship, no matter how new. I guess this makes me a bit of a demisexual. I also find emotional intelligence sexy. My attraction dies the moment someone acts like a jerk. 

The older I got, the more I relaxed about what I needed from a sexual partner. I no longer need to be in love or even harbor a crush. However, I still expect trust and a good time. I think those things are easier to find after you have spent some time with someone, even if it’s just a few dates. And being a virgin who has tried things besides intercourse means I know what I like when it comes to foreplay. I know how I like to be kissed and where I like to be touched. I also know how I don’t like to be touched.

It’s often assumed that when it comes to sex, women have it easier. But the number of options dwindles quickly once you have some expectations. Eliminate all the guys who can’t or won’t spell properly, who won’t bother to have quality conversation, who will assume you are always ready for a booty call...you get the idea. I live in a city much bigger than New York City (Istanbul) but I’ve had no luck finding that guy. As I grew older, my expectation became about one thing: the quality of the experience. I’m not necessarily talking about good sex here, though it’d be nice. What I’m talking about is comfort, safety, and fun: before, during, and after. Not too much to ask, is it?

Then there’s this dilemma: Do you tell your partner you are a virgin beforehand? On one hand, their reaction could reveal a lot about them. If they freak out about your lack of experience, chances are you don’t want this guy in your bed. But it’s even worse if they are overjoyed like they have accomplished something. I want someone neutral, someone who’d understand life happens at a different speed for everyone. Alternatively, I might choose not to tell. But what if he asked? Then I’d hint at a lack of experience and go from there based on his reaction. 

How does it feel to be a virgin at almost 40? Honestly, I’m mostly fine. I am curious about what sex will feel like. Who will it be with? Will I feel relieved? Will I wish I had done it sooner, or will I find it overrated? I’m sometimes frustrated, but not sexually. I am more annoyed at my bad luck. But since I am happy single and sexual feelings emerge when I have a crush on someone, it doesn’t feel like I am on a desert without water. It’s more like “This pie could use more chocolate, but I’d rather have less chocolate than bad chocolate that would unsettle my stomach.” 

A friend once asked how I was coping. I figured sex was like coffee for me. Until I tried coffee, I was perfectly fine without it. But now that I’ve had it, I can’t imagine my life without it. (I still hate bad coffee, though.)

After I recently read about how actress Rebel Wilson had sex for the first time at 35, I felt less frustrated and less alone. I hope my story has a similar effect on women who suffer from a lack of options. When will I have sex? Who knows? But I hope it’s good, and not like that time I had that awful almond milk coffee.