Giving Away my Virginity at 23

Good morning, peeps.

Today, or rather, yesterday I found myself reading an article on Hello Giggles of the same title.

My first thought: I guess 23 was an okay age to give away my virginity.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, she said she gave away her virginity! 

That’s correct. I did not lose it. I know exactly the man whom I gave it to, willingly.

I, however, broke a cardinal rule in Girl Code to do it.

The summer of 2012 was quite the big year for me. In March, I had just turned 23 and accepted a position at the local grocery store as the overnight clerk; making me the only girl to continuously work nights with an all-men night crew.

Until I fell for the manager, hard. Or so I thought.
Turns out, it was just my overly active hormones telling me to reconsider
my then current romantic situation.

I also moved out of my parents’ house in June; and attended my best friend, Tory’s birthday.
There, I met, or rather, re-met Richard, Tory’s on-again, off-again, fuck-buddy.

My god, he was gorgeous.

We began to hang out since his mom lived in the same apartment complex I had just moved into.
Suddenly, I had something sort of thrilling to look forward to; both at work and off work.

Then the night happened,

I had picked up my friend, Erica, for a girls’ night out and we were dropping off her stuff at my place, before heading out to a softball game I was playing in.
Richard appeared out of nowhere, tagging along out of sheer boredom, or so I had thought.
We got back from the game pretty late; but as Erica and I were already planning on drinking, we invited Richard up to join the party.

He poured rounds of Rum Chata shots, sneaking in shots of straight vodka here and there.

I started feeling it, instantly.

We got dice out; playing a drunk game of strip poker.

Now, you understand what pretty much happened from there. 
My friend still gives me grief about it.

I felt all kinds of relief, pain, pleasure, and regret.
My only dislike of the entire experience was that he wasn’t the best kisser.

As for the pain, and regret; I had hurt my best friend;
and my boyfriend.

Worst yet, not even 12 hours later; we were all out at an over 21 pool party where
things were getting steamy and fuzzy and awkward.

I learned an awful lot from that experience, but mostly I learned
that I needed to break the infatuation my head still had
that my heart had lost a long time ago.

Years later, I can say I have found that spark
and deep friendship with the same man.
He is all kinds of wonderful and amazing; we can’t get
enough of each other.

and that’s what love is.
what it should be.

xoxo —

Amanda B Hansen