DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I went to an escort a few weeks ago. Some backstory: I’m 28, never kissed a girl, never had a girlfriend and I’ve always been rejected. I always feel very lonely and sad about this, thinking that I’ll probably never have a girlfriend and I’ll die as a lonely and bitter old man. I thought many times about doing this, to finally see and experience something foreign and unreachable for me, and one night I took courage and did it. I contacted someone I thought was cute, the same age as me and provided GFE (girlfriend experience), booked an hour and went to her apartment. She noticed I was a bag of nerves and I told her it was my first time, so she tried to calm me down.

She was very nice and kind and it wasn’t awkward or weird. I had so many feelings like I was being shaken and for that hour my mind went blank and I forgot about everything. I felt alive. The thing is, and please please believe me, we didn’t have sex. We kissed for a while (it was great) and when I hugged her I just didn’t want to let her go. We spend the rest of our time cuddling and talking about our lives, what we liked and just chillin’. We had a long hug before I left and she kissed me on the cheek.

Everything was fine until I got out of there. On the ride home, I felt like if everyone on the bus knew just what I did. I thought about my parents. They would be very disappointed and angry. I thought I just had my first kiss with someone I didn’t love and vice versa and after all it was meaningless. I felt empty and guilty. I thought about that poor girl who had to tolerate being kissed and touched by me. I feel like I’m a bad person for purchasing a kiss and someone’s time like if it was a sandwich. And what its worst, I’m thinking about doing it again. Not tomorrow, not next week, but probably one or twice a month in the future.

I know it’s far of being the best coping mechanism and it’s a fake experience, but for someone like me, this is the closest I’ll ever be to intimacy. At least is something, right? I have so many mixed feelings and I don’t know what to do. I feel sorry and hate myself for doing it. Yet I was happy for the experience. I have no one to talk about this (since it’s pretty embarrassing and sad) any advice?

Thanks!

Advice Needed

DEAR ADVICE NEEDED: Well here’s the question that’ll be in no way controversial at ALL.

So I feel for you, AN. I get what it’s like to feel like there’s this experience that other people will have that you’ll never get to know. But as with a lot of folks who write in — folks who are in similar situations as you — the problem you’re experiencing isn’t the problem you think you’re having.

I get a lot of letters from late-bloomers and older virgins, even folks going through months or years long dry spells, who talk about how badly they want to get laid why can’t they find someone to hook up with who’d relieve them of this burden. But the thing is, the issue they’re having isn’t the lack of sex. If that’s all it were, there would be any number of ways to get that particular itch scratched. This can be anything from finding someone who may not be your usual type but is down for something casual, hitting up Tinder or, yes, going to a sex worker. If a person worried about the legality of the matter, then saving up money for a trip to Reno or Amsterdam is always an option, especially if you want it badly enough.

(Or at least, it will be again, once the pandemic has passed…)

However, the issue isn’t sex, it’s the desire for validation. The incel community is a prime example of this. Even when you filter out the folks using the label as an excuse for the hate, misogyny and untreated body dysmorphia, you barely have to scratch the surface before you get down to the fact that what they want is to feel validated. It’s the sense that someone chose you and that this means that you’re special or somehow better than the folks that weren’t. Hence, approaches like visiting a sex worker are seen as “cheating”. To quote a meme that is a classic case of “missing the point”:

You cheated not only the game, but yourself.

You didn’t grow.

You didn’t improve.

You took a shortcut and gained nothing.

You experienced a hollow victory.

Nothing was risked and nothing was gained.

And hey, cool story bro, but this approach misses the point so thoroughly that it launched itself into low-earth orbit instead. As I’ve said many times before, women ain’t Mjolnir; nobody has “Whomsoever shall part these thighs, if they be worthy, shall have the power of SCORE” embroidered on their panties.

(And if they do, someone owes me royalties.)

Women have sex with folks for a multitude of reasons, reasons that often have NOTHING to do with the person they’re sleeping with, just as men do. Women sleep with people because they’re bored, they want validation, to send a message to someone, as a form of self-harm, to try to get over someone else… all things that don’t mean that the person they’re having sex with was the top of the heap, the best of the best. Sometimes it means that they were the nearest and most convenient or even the least objectionable.

Visiting an escort and paying for a girlfriend experience isn’t cheating the system any more than going to a restaurant and having someone else cook you dinner is cheating. It’s an exchange of money for a service. It’s not the mark of someone “who couldn’t get laid any other way” — look at how many married people, even celebrities have visited escorts — and it’s not the mark of someone who couldn’t get laid any other way. What you take away from it and what it means is entirely up to you.

(And as an aside: there is a significant difference between someone who’s chosen to be a sex worker of their own free will and someone who was trafficked. We’re talking about the former, not the latter.)

So with that in mind,  let’s talk about your case specifically, AN. You have a few issues here. The first is that you’re treating this as something shameful — that you “cheated” the system somehow by having this moment with somebody that you paid. So let me ask you this: would you feel differently if you had this same experience with someone you met at a bar, but who’s motivation was “I just want to get off, and I don’t care with who?” Or a person at a party who decided that she was going to make out with someone because she was angry at her ex and you happened to be there? Would you be feeling the same if your first kiss was literally just someone else using you to get back at someone else?

Instead you went to a professional, paid her for her time, and she provided you with an experience that was specifically for you. Your first kiss was with somebody who knew that it was your first and was focused entirely on your enjoyment and comfort. To be perfectly frank: you probably had a better first kiss than a lot of folks who stumbled into theirs. Your partner was someone who was entirely focused on you, your needs and the moment. That’s going to be a lot more enjoyable than a drunken hook-up or a random make-out at a bar or a party.

The thing that you have to understand is that the “meaning” of anything is literally just what you decide it means. A first kiss, a first sexual experience,  hell, the first cheeseburger of the year, all have the same meaning: nothing. And everything. It all comes down to what you have decided it means. The idea that a first kiss should be with someone you love is a completely artificial construct, and one that’s more tied to sexual shame than objective reality. Plenty of folks had their first kiss with people they don’t love. Even more had their first sexual experience with people they didn’t love, or even like, in some cases. We don’t shame them for that, and the folks who do are just a

holes.

The things you’re feeling — the idea that the folks on the bus could tell, the idea that your parents would be upset — that’s shame f

king with you. That’s the idea that you “cheated the system” trying to convince you that you did something wrong. You didn’t, because there is no system to cheat. There is just your life, your experiences and your path. This isn’t a “fake” experience; a fake experience would be if it were all a dream or virtual reality. It’s just an experience… one that you’ve decided was fake. That’s a different thing entirely.

The second issue you’re having is that you’re treating this as your somehow “inflicting” yourself on the escort you visited… except you did nothing of the sort. I realize that folks think that paying a sex-worker means that you’ve basically coerced someone into doing your bidding — a time-limited sex-slave, if you will — but the reality is that being with an escort is still a matter of consent. The concept of “we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone” still exists, even if you’re an escort, a stripper, a cam girl or someone providing happy endings with a massage. If the escort you visited didn’t want to do anything with you, she could very easily have told you to get the f

k out. Similarly, if she had such a horrible time that she couldn’t possibly contemplate the idea of ever seeing you again, then she could very easily refuse to let you book another appointment with her.

And while the experience may have been transactional, that doesn’t automatically mean that it’s bad, a bad experience for the escort or a sign that she doesn’t like you. Plenty of sex workers have very fond relationships with their regulars, just as folks in the service industry have fond relationships with some of their customers. Every bartender, barista, store clerk, waiter, etc. has their favorite regulars, the folks they enjoy seeing on the regular. The fact that those people are customers doesn’t change the fact that they like seeing them or talking with them or they aren’t happy to see them come in.

In fact, if you want to see what sex workers actually think about their clients… well, all you have to do is open Twitter. Sex workers of all stripes talk about their experiences, their customers and clients, their jobs, etc. with great candor. Getting to know them as people who do a job may well help change your mind about everything.

Honestly, the shame and social stigma you’re feeling is what’s f

king with you, not that you did anything inherently bad or wrong. If you really want to adjust your perspective, you should do some research about sexual surrogates — sex workers who work with folks who have any number of medical or psychological issues surrounding sex. In many cases, sexual surrogates are the only form of sexual intimacy some folks may be able to achieve — especially when physical or emotional handicaps are involved.

(The movie “The Sessions” with John Hawkes and Helen Hunt may be a great place for you to start. I also recommend reading “On Seeing A Sex Surrogate”, the article that the movie was based on.)

But your third issue is assuming that this is the only sort of intimacy you may ever encounter. While I understand that you’re feeling despair right now, that’s simply not true. It’s only how things feel right now, and as much as I hate how a

holes use this phrase, it’s apt: feels aren’t reals. Things feel awful and unchanging because things are dark, chaotic and stressful right now. You’ve got all of these feelings of shame and self-recrimination rocketing through your head right now and all of them are bulls

t. You’re allowed to have enjoyed your time with an escort, and to look forward to booking another session, and to want to connect with folks and have a relationship that isn’t primarily commercial. You can, in fact, have both. The fact that you’ve had these experiences with an escort doesn’t cut you off from the possibility of love, sex and relationships in the future. In fact, these experiences could well be part of what help push you to work on yourself. Not in the sense of “well, I need to get better so I never do this again,” but in the sense of “Wow, this opened up my eyes to what’s out there and I would love to see more of it.”

Because, straight talk, my dude: losing your virginity isn’t going to transform you or change you, no matter how you do it. Going to an escort may guarantee you a more focused and giving experience than you might find otherwise, but it’s not going to handicap you or cut you off from society. The people who think that you’re somehow shady, shameful or wrong for having done so — assuming you decide you share this with them, which you don’t have to — are just folks who are self-selecting out of your pool of friends and lovers and good-goddamn-riddance.

By that same token, losing your virginity in the context of a casual hook-up — or even a committed, romantic relationship — doesn’t mean that you’re going to have some transformation sequence where you suddenly become the person you believe you’re “supposed” to be. Your first time is going to be an experience that you’ve had… that’s it. Everything that comes afterwards, whether positive or negative, is going to be about what you decide comes from it. You may feel like it was a magical experience. You may finish and think “wait, that was it?” But it will only be a step on your journey, not the start, nor the end. That’s all going to depend on you and what you decide to do next.

But for right now? F

k the shame and f

k the folks who’d shame you for it including yourself. You are allowed to feel pleasure, to have enjoyed your time and to want more, even if you paid a professional for it. Everybody was consenting, everyone got what they wanted from this and everyone came away happy. That’s the important part. And if you want to book another session with her — once the quarantine is lifted, obviously — and you can afford it, then go for it, king. And if you want to work on your personal development so that you don’t feel like sex work is your only outlet? You can do that too; there are a ton of resources available on this site to help you with precisely that.

But seriously: you didn’t do anything wrong, or anything to feel ashamed of or guilty about.

Anyone who is going to insist that you shouldn’t or that you should feel guilty about it isn’t concerned with you or the escort you visited; they just want you to follow their ideas about how to live your life. That’s on them. Your life is your own. Do what’s best for you.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’ve been a long-time reader of your articles, and after so many years, I now find myself in need of your advice. It’s a bit of a long story. For context, I am a single 27-year-old man, and the woman in question is my ex, and is about to turn 26. We both work in the same profession. I’ll start with the background first. 

In the fall of 2018, my ex and I first met when we were working together at a new internship. We clicked instantly, and the attraction was mutual. We began dating almost immediately. I have no doubt about the sincerity and genuineness of the relationship at the time; I have never been happier, and she loved me and appreciated who I was and what I could provide. Having said that, I need to say that at the time, she was married — to a man who I later found out was emotionally abusing her, before and during our own relationship.

Unfortunately for me, this was also my first ever relationship, which means I made some mistakes of my own, and those mistakes — combined with her renewed desire to try to make her marriage work — resulted in her ending our relationship in December of 2018. I was absolutely heartbroken.

This was not just some work affair or side thing for me — she was my girlfriend, and I was devastated. So much so that I ended up making the mistake of playing the “We can still be friends” card on the table, and ended up locking myself into that emotional prison for a further four months, until in April of 2019, she finally made me promise not to contact her anymore, because she was committed her decision and wanted to focus on that relationship. And I agreed, because I wanted her to be happy, and because I could understand where she was coming from.

And so it was for nearly eleven months. As I’m sure you know, going no contact cold turkey from a person you WANT to be with is one of the most horrible experiences a person could have. In my case, I developed depression, felt lonely and miserable, and I even sought help in a support group for failed relationships to find solace. Not one day went by that I didn’t think about her, and — surprise surprise — I was, and am, still in love with her. After so long without hearing from her, I eventually wrote an acceptance letter to her which I did not send, and I’m quoting myself here, “because I had to let her go.” That’s where I was.

Imagine my shock, then, when she did reach out to me! Almost eleven months later! It felt like a miracle. She wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear from her (she couldn’t have been more wrong), but she said that she was finally leaving him for good, due to the continued emotional abuse, and that she thought of me. We have been texting daily since (as of this letter, almost a week), and have even had a short phone call. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. I missed having my friend in my life. But I also miss having her as my girlfriend. And that, finally, is where my question begins.

Dr. NerdLove: I am still in love with my ex, who is now formally separating from her husband. I want her and I to try again. I want us back together. Should I tell her? How should I tell her? When? And is there any hope for us, in such a complex situation?

I have been happy talking to her as normal, and discussing our work and so forth, but when she left, I told her that I loved her and would always welcome her back; surely she’s at least considered the possibility of trying again, otherwise, why reach out to me at all? I can tell she’s a bit different now: she seems a little distant and sad, and a tad overworked, perhaps as a coping mechanism. I want to support her, but I’m not sure how.

To make matters even more complicated, right now, my ex is still located near me, but when she graduates from school, she will be moving back home to Texas, and then after that, when she acquires her license, she will be moving one state over from me (I’m in Virginia) to begin her dream job. Which means even assuming that she wants to actually rekindle our relationship– which is still a huge unknown and may not even be a possibility — it’s going to be forced to take on a long-distance component very soon. But I can deal with that. After having once gone fourteen months without seeing her, there’s very little now I wouldn’t do to be able to be with her.

Doctor, is there any hope for us? And is there anything I can do to let her know that I don’t care about the past, but that I do want to be there for her in her future? I love her so much, but I feel like a compass that doesn’t know where true north is anymore.

Thank you for reading, I know it was long, but if this is or can be a second chance, I want to do it right this time, and any advice or insight is appreciated.

Still Waiting

DEAR STILL WAITING: Hoo boy.

So… this was a bad scene, SW. Dating someone who was married, not in an open relationship and whose marriage was apparently an abusive s

tshow is usually not a recipe for happily ever after, especially since it was your first relationship. While there are couples who start out that way, it’s an uphill climb at best, and this being your first serious relationship turns that particular learning curve into more of a learning precipice. Doubly so with the fact you were having a really hard time sticking the landing with the “let’s just be friends” part afterwards. Trying to be friends after a relationship almost always requires time away, if only so that you can actually start to get over the break-up and move on.

You… didn’t do that. I mean, things were bad enough that she basically had to initiate the Nuclear Option on you, because you couldn’t let things go. And it doesn’t sound like you did any better afterwards; it sounds like you were soaking in a lot of misery and angst about her and weren’t really able to move forward. In fact, it sounds a lot like you were (and are) still neck deep in it when she reached out to you.

That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence about your state of mind regarding all of this.

Here’s the thing about getting back together with your ex: the only way it works is if things have actually changed. If the circumstances that broke you up are still in play, if you (or they) haven’t changed or grown past them or resolved those issues, then all you’re doing is setting yourself up for the 12″ dance remix of your first break up. And if I’m being honest with you: it doesn’t sound like that’s the case. To start with, there was the marriage issue. Her marriage wasn’t the problem that you two had… not in the way that you think, anyway. While you were seeing this as an amazing relationship and one that could last the ages, I suspect that… well, you were more of her attempt at ejecting out of the flaming mess that was her marriage. One of the reasons people will cheat is because they’re slamming their hand down on the “relationship self-destruct” button. In cases where a partner is being abused or mistreated, finding a piece on the side is often a way people will try to motivate themselves to get out; it’s both incentive to leave and a reminder that you have options. While I don’t doubt that she genuinely cares for you, I strongly suspect that you and she had very different ideas about what this relationship was — even if she wasn’t aware of what her idea of it was, yet.

I also suspect that’s part of why she’s reaching out to you after all this time; you’re a connection to a normal life without her now ex, a reminder that happier times can and do exist. What I don’t think she’s looking for is to rekindle your relationship.

And honestly, that’s a good thing, for the both of you. Like I said: trying to make a post-break-up relationship work involves time and distance so that you can heal and move on. You haven’t done that. Hell, you were barely entering the acceptance stage when she called you out of the blue. Now that she’s back, all those hopes and dreams that you’d been clinging to, the ones that were starting to burn down to embers have flared back up again. But while you’re a little bit older, and a little more aware of the mistakes that you’ve made, I’m not entirely sure that you’ve actually internalized those lessons. You can’t really do that while you’re still holding out hope that you’re going to be able to pick things back up and they’ll be like they were before.

But all that is before we tack on the complication of her future and yours. She’s already got plans to up stakes and head back to Texas once she’s gotten her degree and her future is going to be keeping her at a distance from you. While, again, relationships can and have survived long-distance — even intercontinental distances — that’s still playing at a level that, frankly, I don’t think you’re ready for.

I think what you need, more than anything else, is to let this one go so that you can heal. I get that you want your friend back in your life, but in the state that you’re in, I don’t think you’re going to be able to separate “having her as a friend” and “holding onto the hope of getting her back”. Which means that you’re not even going to have a replay of your first break-up… you’re going to have a replay of the second time, when she told you that she couldn’t be in contact with you anymore.

I get it. Believe me. I fully empathize with you because I’ve been there, done that — repeatedly — and got my heart stamped on — again, repeatedly. Telling her you want her back is just going to be inviting more misery into your life. The only question is how quickly.

I think your best decision here is to keep your distance. You can be friends, but it’s going to require space because you still aren’t over her. You need to heal, which you can’t do while you’re trying to win her back.

If you two have that connection that makes you good, close friends, then you’ll still be good, close friends when you pick things back up down the line. But if you try to rekindle things instead? I think all that’s going to happen is that you’re going to end up hurting yourself worse and shutting that potential friendship down before it has a chance to be rebuilt.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’m a virgin girl. I’m in a relationship with a boy I love very much and feel ready to take the next step and he is a virgin too. I browse a lot of stuff online (female oriented blogs mind you) and there was a topic of not having sex until marriage. Comments said that they wouldn’t ever marry someone if the sex was “bad” and that no sex until marriage was a bad idea because of this (but it’s not really applying to me). This scares me so, so much. I’m in love with this boy that I am with and DO NOT want to leave him. We just mesh so well together and he is everything I ever wanted in someone. The fact we are both virgins however really scares me now. We are compatible with our likes and stuff but since we are virgins..I can assume the sex won’t be mind blowing at first. Is “bad sex” really the death sentence for a relationship or am I overreacting?  Is there more to it that I don’t know about?

As a bonus question, I know you are neither female nor a doctor but my doctor could not do the finger test because it hurt me so bad. This scares me too that it’ll just cause more trouble sexually…

 -scaredandconfused

DEAR SCAREDANDCONFUSED: This is actually a fairly common concern – and not just among women. In fact, this has come up a few times over the course of both my column and my career.  A lot of people are worried that being “bad at sex” due to inexperience (or worse, being a virgin) will keep them from ever having a successful relationship… or from trying to initiate a relationship at all.

The problem is that you seem to be conflating sexual compatibility – what most people mean when they talk about whether the sex is “bad” or “good” –  for sexual experience. And there’s a rather decided difference between the two.

Sexual satisfaction is a critical part of a romantic relationship.s Sexual compatibility is one of the key components of keeping two people together; it’s the fear of being seen as “shallow” or “selfish” that frequently keeps two people together when the sex just isn’t working, whether it’s incompatible sexual needs, mismatched libidos or just plain old fashioned unrealistic expectations – and there doesn’t seem to be any way to fix things, including ethical non-monogamy.

Now to be fair: part of good sex is a matter of skill and practice. However, this doesn’t mean that a virgin is inherently a bad lover or is doomed to bad sex until he or she gets X number of years/partners/experience points under her belt. Nobody is born as a masterful lover, no matter what they may tell you. Everybody starts from the same place –  an absolute beginner – and moves on from there. It’s after that point that we all start to diverge.

Some people get an earlier start than others; they may hit puberty early on, they may discover masturbation at a younger age and get more familiar with how to make themselves feel good, they have their first sexual experience (which includes more than just genital-to-genital contact, thank you very much) with a partner before their peers do. Some people are just more relaxed with their bodies and their sexuality thanks to their upbringing and peer group. Some people come to sex at a later age or take longer to get comfortable with themselves. Others may not discover their sexual identity until much later in life.

All any of this means is that some people have a head start of sorts. Having sex or sexual experience earlier isn’t inherently good – in fact, the less mature (and there’s a decided difference between age and maturity) the people are, the less likely they are to grasp the full implications and responsibilities that come with sex. Coming to your sexual life later isn’t inherently bad either; being a virgin or having little experience sexually isn’t shameful nor is it a sign that there’s something wrong with you.

Sex is more than just “insert tab A into slot B, repeat as needed.” It’s also more than “I need to know X, Y and Z in order to make my lover feel good/orgasm/want to keep having sex with me.” It’s about being aware of your body, being comfortable with it and being familiar with what turns you on and what gets you off. After all, if you don’t know what you want or need, you won’t be able to ask for it.

Yes, I said “ask for it”. Good sex is also about communication. Having good sex – especially when you’re having sex for the first time you have with someone new – means being able to communicate clearly and guide him or her towards what you enjoy and how you enjoy it. Sometimes you’ll both luck into the right combo… but more often than not, you’re going to have to work together to establish the rhythm and flow. If he’s using his tongue but flicking about your clitoris like a lizard isn’t doing the trick, you want to be able to tell him what you need him to do instead. Similarly, if you’re going down on him or her but they need more friction, more suction, more tongue, less teeth, something, they need to be able to tell you as well. Don’t be afraid to (gently) let your partner know what you want them to do differently, and be sure to let him or her know (enthusiastically) what they’re doing right. The better you are able to communicate, the more you’ll both enjoy the experience.

Now, the fact that the two of you are virgins doesn’t mean that the sex is going to be bad. It will be a little awkward, maybe a little weird and uncomfortable, even possibly a bit silly… but that doesn’t mean that it can’t be wonderful either. You haven’t had actual penis-in-vagina action yet, but you don’t say what you have had… whether the two of you have gone down on each other, engaged in some mutual masturbation, frottage, anal play, what-have-you. If you haven’t progressed past making out and some hands-over-the-junk action, I would recommend that you take penetrative sex off the table for a while. Take some time – and by time I mean months – and get used to each other’s bodies. Learn the contours, learn the various tastes and textures and smells; sometimes they can be disconcerting and the last thing either of you wants is to interrupt the moment with a “woah, what is that” face because you encountered something you’re not familiar with. Get used to being naked together, rolling around together and getting off together before you dive straight into penetration. The more familiar and comfortable you are with each other, the better off you will be when you finally do move to the big moment. It won’t be some big mystery full of anxiety and tension; it’ll be the next, natural step in your relationship with your boyfriend.

Now as for your question about your gynecological exam: this’s a where I feel the need to remind folks that Dr. NerdLove is emphatically NOT a real doctor. Answering this actually required some Googling on my part because… well… the phrase “finger test” is somewhat archaic in these parts. In fact, it depends on whether we’re talking about part of a standard pelvic exam by a gynecologist or a check of one’s virginity.

(For the record, the “finger test” for virginity – that is, checking for proof of virginity by examining the presence of the hymen or vaginal laxity — and other virginity tests are actually considered violations of human rights and dignity by Amnesty International.)

So assuming that we’re talking about your standard gynecological exam: well, there could be a number of reasons for this. You may have been incredibly nervous and tense during the exam – rather understandable. You may have a narrow vaginal canal or less laxity in the vaginal muscles than average. You may have physical trauma from an accident. If this was a one-time issue and you’ve been able to insert, say, a tampon (or your fingers or a sex toy) without issue, then it could just be the stress of the moment. If this is a regular issue, then it’s decidedly something to talk to your doctor about – and again, Dr. NerdLove is emphatically not a real doctor.

But before you start hitting up Doctor Google instead, I’d focus on what your doc said at the time. If she wasn’t concerned about it, then I wouldn’t be concerned either if I were you. I’m willing to bet money that it comes down to: you’re a virgin and pelvic exams just aren’t fun under the best of circumstances.

Penetration for the first time can be somewhat uncomfortable; after all, you’re having an unfamiliar object inserted into an area where you haven’t had one before.

That having been said: it’s going to be a different sensation, not necessarily a painful one. If you still have your hymen, it MIGHT be a little painful at first… but it also might not. It’s easy to minimize your discomfort. Start with a great deal of foreplay — especially for you — to help get you relaxed and aroused and ready for penetration. You may want to use some extra lubricant to help things along — specifically a water-based lubricant like KY or Astroglide. You do NOT want petroleum jelly, saliva, butter, baby-oil or any other improvised lube; these will damage the condom – you ARE going to be using condoms –  and can cause irritation to the vaginal canal. When you do start penetration take things very slowly and gently until you feel ready to move a little faster or more vigorously.

The more the two of you communicate, focus on what feels good and take things at a pace you’re both comfortable with, the better your first time will be.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com