By Stacey Lace

Columnist

With Valentine’s Day just passing, let’s talk about another big V in our lives.  I’m talking about the biggest V you can think of that pertains to your late night indiscretions.  I’m talking about virginity, and, yes, this is about to get a little personal.

You can probably all guess that I’m not a virgin.  I’m pretty sure The Bucknellian wouldn’t let me write this column if I was, but that’s not to say I was sexualized too young or anything like that.

I lost the v-card after coming to college.  I was in a steady relationship with a guy who was not as chaste as myself.  I don’t regret the guy or the circumstances, but at age 18, I thought we needed to have “the talk.”

I don’t mean the “where do babies come from” talk, I mean the “I need to know this is the right decision and that I’m not going to regret having made it with you” talk.

Honestly, I’ve never stopped having that talk.  Prior to every new sexual encounter, I’ve had “the talk.”  I just think it’s important to know where both partners are physically, mentally and emotionally when it comes to having sex.

With STIs, STDs and STFs (sexually transmitted feelings) going around campus, understanding your partner’s sexual history or lack thereof is just as important to your emotional stability as it is to your fear of herpes.

One day last week while I was at lunch with my girlfriends, my peppy cheerleader friend Reilly* was filling the group in on James*, the guy she’s been seeing.

Her hookup concern of the week?  Reilly was beginning to think about taking the next step and actually sleeping together.  However, Reilly’s feelings weren’t the problem.  Before any canoodling, Reilly wanted to know if James was a virgin, but she didn’t know how to bring it up.

This prompted all eight of the girls to start talking about how you ask your partner if he or she is a virgin. We all agreed it’s awkward to just flat out ask, yet it seemed like having that talk was so important.

I know that talking about the v-card can be almost as awkward as asking your mom to refill your condom stash next time she’s at the pharmacy, but it seems to be something we’ll all have to overcome at least once.

I wish I had advice for you, but all I can really say is that the brief moment of humiliation that comes from asking the question is almost always cancelled by the resulting conversation and activity.

If you still think it’s too awkward, take my roommate’s advice: “If you can’t have the talk, just don’t have sex.”

*Names have been changed.