Purity Myth

The Purity Myth [review]

Did you know that 88% of individuals who pledge to remain abstinent until marriage end up breaking their pledge?1 And when they do have sex, they are less likely to use protection?2 

95% of people have premarital sex3, but we are still placing importance on our youth’s purity over their health and happiness — especially when it comes to girls. Instead of educating them & trusting them to make their own decisions, we place that power in the hands of others (legislators, doctors, parents, etc). We exercise control by convincing young women that their entire worth is connected to their sexuality: That they cannot be respectable human beings if they have sex, even though every makeup commercial, fashion magazine, and high school popularity contest tells them to be “sexy.”

Purity Myth

Feminist writer & advocate, Jessica Valenti, decided to speak out against this and much more in her book The Purity Myth: How America’s Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women (2010). Perhaps it’s due to my own experience within the purity movement, but this has become one of my favorite, most eye-opening and influential books that I’ve ever read. In fact, I wish that I would have discovered this book sooner, as it helped me to understand the forces at play during my own adolescence. Valenti links several problems to our obsession with “purity.” She provides facts & examples, while still maintaining a personable, informal tone — complete with typical Valenti-style sarcasm. (I personally enjoyed the humorous touch to her footnotes, but I can also see how her writing style may not get through to those with opposing viewpoints.)

In The Purity Myth, Valenti spends a lot of time explaining the damage done by Abstinence-Only Education, far beyond the blatant misinformation & lack of contraceptive use. She calls attention to class exercises that reinforce the idea that you are “dirty” or “unworthy” if you’ve slept with more than one person. She skillfully makes connections not only to slut-shaming, but also how this obsession with virginity plays into a larger rape culture, including victim-blaming. Valenti even points out how the media has created the stereotypical virgin: the beautiful, heterosexual, & caucasian “girl next door,” bringing up questions of sexism, racism, and homophobia.

Valenti calls out the purity movement for not only perpetuating the harmful virgin/whore dichotomy, but sending mixed messages between the two.  By focusing so much attention on this one characteristic, we have fetishized it to the point that girls are advertising their virginity on shirts & women are getting plastic surgery to recreate their hymen, because that’s what makes them appealing to men. We have sexualized the very idea of being non-sexual.

Where do we go from here? Valenti doesn’t make an argument for abandoning virginity in exchange for casual sex. She simply wants girls to be able to make their own educated decisions, without fear and slut-shaming. She calls for us to concentrate on the successes of young women today, instead of panicking over their so-called moral decline. If you’re reading this, nodding along in agreement, go find a copy of The Purity Myth. It will open your eyes to how far this obsession reaches, how much control it has over our society, and just how damaging it truly is.

5stars


1. Brückner, H., & Bearman, P. (2005). After the promise: The std consequences of adolescent virginity pledges. Journal of Adolescent Health36, 271-278. Retrieved from http://www.yale.edu/ciqle/PUBLICATIONS/AfterThePromise.pdf

2. Rosenbaum, J. E. (2009). Patient teenagers? a comparison of the sexual behavior of virginity pledgers and matched nonpledgers. Pediatrics123(1), e110-e120. doi: 10.1542/peds.2008-0407 [Available at: http://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/123/1/e110.full.html]

3. Wind, R. (2006, December 19). Premarital sex is nearly universal among americans, and has been for decades. Retrieved from http://www.guttmacher.org/media/nr/2006/12/19/index.html

From Purity to Pleasure: My Struggle to Embrace Sexuality

Looking back, I can practically pinpoint the moment when what I was taught about sex would either a) need a major overhaul or b) become disastrous. I was home from college, naked and fooling around with my high school sweetheart, begging him to have sex with me. I was literally begging despite the fact that we didn’t have any protection and we had both promised years before to wait until we got married. Once the fog of lust had cleared from my mind, and I got over the pain & embarrassment of having my advances (thankfully) denied, what remained was fear. At that moment, I was terribly afraid of my own sexual desire and I was too ashamed to share that fear with anyone.

I grew up in a rural area, attended a public school that was governed by conservative politics, and went to church every Sunday with my mom. I never remember having a sex talk with either her or my dad. And what I recall of my “sexual education” mostly consists of scare tactics about STIs in 7th grade Home Economics. Somehow, without ever having a real discussion about sex, the expectation was still clear: I should not have sex until I get married. Looking back, there was always something that bothered me about the black & white thinking that I was raised with.

If I’m supposed to be ashamed and afraid of sex now, how do I magically overcome those emotions on my wedding night? Will I be able to find a guy who also wants to wait? Should I expect him to? Are we still abstinent if we have oral sex? What about if we touch each other’s genitals? Where is the line that transforms me from virgin to whore? 

Even though I was curious about these things, it was simply easier at the time to ignore the grey areas that nobody else mentioned. I bought and wore a purity ring for the next 7 years of my life, but I never had a serious discussion with my boyfriends (or myself) about what was sexually acceptable and what was not—besides the fact that intercourse was obviously off the table. When we’d become more sexually intimate than we had before, my reaction (after the initial pleasure) was often one of guilt, shame, and tears. I would insist that we needed to “back off,” but it never failed that I’d find myself right back in that pit of self-shaming again and again.

As I entered my 20s I defined my brand of abstinence as simply not engaging in vaginal or anal intercourse, but my devotion to the entire idea was waning. If I only had sex with the man that I knew I was going to marry, would it really matter if we waited until our wedding night? That would hardly make me a “whore” when compared to many other individuals. …But did the fact that I had intense sexual desire mean that I was no longer a “good girl” either? This unclear (and unhealthy) view of sexuality led to the previously mentioned irresponsible and immature begging, as well as several arguments that helped put an end to my relationship.

When I think back on that moment, I cringe at the thought of how badly my ignorance could have affected my life. But I also know that the problem wasn’t that I wanted sex—that was natural. The problem was that I wasn’t educated. I wasn’t educated on how to keep my body safe, how to create a self-image that was independent of my sexual activity, or how to confidently (and respectfully) communicate my desires to my partner.

So how did I go from that confused & naive virgin to the woman I am now, passionate about helping others break down the walls of their sexual repression?! I removed my purity ring as a symbol of removing all past influences and I finally took control of my own sexuality. I started educating myself by reading everything I could get my hands on: sexual anatomy/response, reproduction, contraception, various sexual desires & activities, etc. I was exposed to different views on sex, most importantly those of the sex positive movement. I also entered into a loving relationship that continues to provide me with a safe space for (s)exploration. Slowly and with much continuing effort, I have been able to redefine my beliefs so that my pleasure is no longer something to be feared or ashamed of, but something to own and enjoy.