The Somewhat Pinkish, or Maybe Mauve Letter

I grew up having it hammered into my head that I absolutely had to remain a virgin until I got married. If I didn't, that meant I was a terrible person with no morals and self-control and no one would marry me. And since the goal of bringing female babies into this world in my culture is so that they can grow up, get married and bring more babies into the world, pre-marital sex essentially meant social ostracism the likes of which makes Hester Prynn seem like the town mayor.

In high school I never had a date. Not even one. Not even to my prom. Needless to say, people who know me now and see pictures from then have a nice time making fun. And yes, there's a lot of material.

When the topic of high school comes up today, someone always invariably asks, "so, who did you hang out with? The football players? Were you a cheerleader?" To which I respond, "no, I was a nerd in honors classes and played on the badminton team. I had braces until the end of junior year, and my uncle's pet name for me was Chunk, after his fat dog." No one believes me. That's fine with me. Let them think I'm being modest.

Seeing as how my chances for losing my virginity were not that high, I wasn't that concerned with my morals. But then I got to college. And met boys. And met the gym. And invariably met the end of my virginity.

But even then, I had such a guilty feeling, it was such a big deal at 19. It was a big deal until I got married at 26. Having sex with someone meant they were my boyfriend. Meant we were in a serious relationship. SERIOUS. There were no one-night stands in my past (and actually, for all of my philandering, there still aren't any one night stands.)

My ex-husband couldn't care less that I wasn't a virgin. My mother, on the other hand, insisted I lie to him and even offered to take me to the gynecologist to reinstate the evidence with a couple of quick stitches. Um, no thanks. I'll take my chances.

Today, as I get older, sex isn't the big deal it was a few years ago. It doesn't come with titles and classifications of "boyfriend" and "girlfriend." Now it's "dating" or "seeing someone" or even just "hanging out." The people you date don't ask where you spend your nights when you're not with them. It's an unspoken rule: No one is exclusive, even if you're having sex, unless you have "the talk." "The talk" has replaced sex as the threshold for entering into a serious relationship. And you can bet you're not having "the talk" anytime soon.

Even though I've bought into this whole way of dating, I still have a weird need to classify whatever it is I'm doing with someone. You know, are we "seeing each other" or are we "just friends" or are we "friends with benefits" and so on. I think it's a female-type need, to create parameters on some level in order to create a sense of security, a sense of standing on hard ground. If you name it and define it, it takes shape and becomes something. Women tend to have a greater need to define, to make it something over "well, let's just see where things go...." But at the end of the day, no matter how many words we use, it's our actions that determine the outcome of our relationships. Actions are the most telling example of someone's feelings. There are "boyfriends" that act like total jerks, and guys you're "seeing" who are really just amazing. So maybe it's okay that a relationship doesn't have a title. At the end of the day, as women, I think it's okay to relax with the titles we need to put on things and just let the relationship evolve.

Who knows, if I can play it cool long enough, I might reach my goal of "Dr. and Mrs. So Damn Rich I Don't Need to Work Another Day in My Life and Have Decided to Take Up Cooking and Piano Lessons When I'm Not Meeting With My Personal Trainer." A girl can dream.