I recently overheard a conversation in the library. A young man was talking to a friend about how he felt “worthless” because he was still a virgin at twenty-one. His friend laughed, called him a loser, told him it was fine and brought up a disparate topic that I struggle to recall.
Why did this young man feel worthless? And why did his friend call him a loser? Maybe it is because informal sex education for young men and boys is obsessed with attaching self-worth to virginity and, ipso facto, sexual conquest.
Many men view sex as currency; having sex is seen as an act of taking, where the man extracts value from women. This is a mindset encouraged by the manosphere. A man who has not had sex often sees himself as sexually broke. According to UN Women, the manosphere teaches that “[Sexual] dominance, especially over women, is a marker of male worth.”
Shame around virginity is not necessarily about a desire to have sex, but rather the fear that virginity makes one less of a man and more prone to rejection. This is, of course, a self-perpetuating cycle where men feel they will be rejected because they are virgins and therefore do not put themselves out there to have sex.
In addition to the manosphere, our media contributes to men feeling ashamed about being virgins. “The Forty-Year-Old Virgin,” “American Pie” and “Revenge of the Nerds” are important yet extremely problematic touchstones in the media and comedy environment. While they were not of our generation, they influenced our parents and sex-ed teachers (the generation that formed many of our conceptions around sex and virginity). In these films, virginity is the core of plot conflict; the pursuit of sex is the narrative’s engine, the characters express intense shame about their states and that shame is reinforced by the Chad-has-had-sex characters that surround them. At the end of these movies, after the main characters lose their virginity, everything is solved, their problems melt away, they are cool and worthy of attention and admiration from women AND other men.
When men view virginity as shameful, they are more active in their pursuit of sex. If a man thinks he has to lose his virginity as soon as possible, he is more likely to pressure a partner to have sex before they are ready. This ties into sexual entitlement; men in cultures like ours are brought up by TV and online stereotypes that make them feel entitled to sex and women’s bodies, and in such cultures, rape is more prevalent. This is a problem for men to solve.
Virginity is not only a men’s issue. Women are less likely to feel shame about being virgins and more likely to feel shame about having sex, which should not be a surprise for anyone. Historically, women’s bodies were the property of their husbands and fathers. Up into the late 20th century in the West, sex outside of wedlock could destroy women’s prospects and life. Even now, virginity is encouraged in young women who are told not to give “it” away and shamed for having body counts, though it is more complicated than that. Women are also castigated for not having sex, but usually from an entitled rather than shaming angle.
I do not mean any of this to say that losing one’s virginity is bad, or that everyone should just have sex. That would be the opposite of my point. It would be trying to treat the symptom, not the problem. But young men need to realize that their self-worth has nothing to do with if they are having sex and/or how much sex they are having.
If one attaches their value to sex, then the question is: What if they do have sex? Will they feel good? Or are they using sex as a distraction from larger problems, being unsatisfied with their lives and current relationships? Two-thirds of young men feel “no one really knows [them].”
Sex is complicated, controversial and intensely personal. I have at times felt shame about not having sex and having sex, about being single and being in a relationship. Everyone’s journey is different. But I have found that when I tie my self-worth to external, quantitative things —whether it be money, sex or academic success — I am no longer an independent person.
One’s self-worth should not be tied to the number of sexual partners they have had in the last six months; one should tie their worth to the things that matter to them. For me, that means emotional intimacy, personal validation and my ability to self-actualize.
To those young men who may call themselves or other men worthless losers for being a virgin: You’re not worthless and you aren’t a loser. Your sexual status is not who you are.