Since I was a child, I was taught that my worth was inextricably linked to my sex life. I was socialized to think that the more I had sex, the less likely I would be considered in a man’s eyes as someone worthy for marriage. And I believed it.
I spent most of my teenage years abiding by this rule, and it seemed like everyone around me was rooting for me to fall in that tradition. It was during this time that I learned that the race of virginity leading to marriage is a toxic competition in the black church.
It seemed like women who cheerfully announced their marriage in the sanctuary felt like they had one-up on the single women. Meanwhile, girls who had became pregnant from sex out of wedlock were forced to announce their “sin” in front of the entire congregation, shamefully eliminating themselves from this unspoken competition. And girls who had elaborate purity ceremonies and vowed their “virginity” to God until a future husband replaced their purity ring with a wedding ring, were viewed in high regard at the church. Those were the type of women who were said to have been aligning with God’s perfect plan for their lives.
Seeing these performative practices in the church instantly made me afraid of anything dealing with sex because I didn’t want to experience the shame and embarrassment of letting people down. The extent of my sexual education was abstinence because the pastors in my church, and people in my family, taught me that pregnancy would always be the result of having sex. I didn’t learn about birth control until I came to college, so most of my teenage years were spent heavily avoiding pregnancy.
For black girls, especially those growing up in the church, being abstinent and not becoming a “stereotype” was met with a great sense of accomplishment. A black girl could be disrespectful and have failing grades, but as long as she didn’t get pregnant, she was automatically viewed as better than the girl who did get pregnant outside of marriage. And I think that’s why many women in the church did their best to protect their daughter, granddaughters and nieces from being viewed that way.
via GIPHY
I remember my aunt being very concerned with the way I presented myself at church.
"Wear a dress that doesn’t show too much of your ass."
"Don’t wear that skirt that doesn’t go past your knees."
"Don’t show off your shoulders."
"Remember to wear a girdle so your ass won’t shake in that dress."
"Wear a shawl over your skirt when sitting down to hide your thighs."
"Don’t be the only girl with a group of guys."
It’s because of this hyper-surveillance on a girl’s body that now leads me to believe that virginity is a social construction. Its only purpose is to inhibit a woman’s sexuality and discourage her from exhibiting any type of sexual pleasure for the sake of winning this unspoken competition.
Furthermore, the definition of virginity, “unbroken hymen,” isn’t exactly accurate because the hymen doesn’t typically break during sexual intercourse, and it doesn’t completely cover the vaginal canal. It can only break and stretch. But the hymen also breaks and stretches during other activities such as inserting a tampon and riding a bicycle. So why isn’t there the same surveillance when women participate in those activities?
The concept of virginity, at its core, is a heteronormative idea that shames women from enjoying sex and automatically eliminates trans and queer people. It only exists for the sake of controlling women and making them pyrrhic victors of limiting their sexuality.
