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Virginity is an ancient myth that we society cannot seem to forget. From the Code of Hammurabi, which punished women for perceived impurity, to modern pressures surrounding chastity and purity, virginity has been wielded as a tool of control for millennia. While the definitions and implications of virginity have varied across cultures and centuries, one thing has remained constant: virginity has always been a gendered concept. Women’s sexual experiences have been scrutinised, interrogated and weaponised against them, constantly reinforcing a world in which unequal sex remains the norm.
Despite lacking any biological or scientific basis, the myth of virginity persists. Invasive and scientifically debunked “virginity checks” have continued well into the 20th century and remain a common practice in some cultures today. These procedures, rooted in the myth that an intact hymen is evidence of virginity, further exemplify the use of medical pseudoscience to control oppressed women. The persistence of such misogynistic myths exposes a broader pattern in the treatment of women: medicine and science, when shaped by harmful patriarchal ideologies, can become an instrument of oppression rather than empowerment. The notion that a woman’s worth is tied to her sexual purity has been used to justify countless acts of gender-based violence. From honour killings to forced marriages and even in societies that claim to be progressive, women who adhere to purity standards are placed on a pedestal. At the same time, those who reject these norms are condemned and punished.
Why has the virginity myth endured for so long?
The answer lies in how it distorts women’s experiences of sex and self-worth. Our very first sexual experiences make a definitive impact on how we view intimacy, consent and personal agency. The binary perception of women as either pure or promiscuous forces women into rigid self-policing roles that dictate their relationships with their own bodies. The fear of female sexuality is nothing new. Ancient medical theories proposed absurd notions such as the ‘wandering womb’ and ‘vagina dentata’ (the belief that women’s vaginas contained teeth). Whilst these ideas are now regarded as products of ignorance, their underlying message remains disturbingly relevant: women’s bodies are to be feared, controlled and mythologised.
Even in more modern contexts, misogynistic perceptions continue to divide women into simple archetypes. Sigmund Freud’s work contributed to what is now called the Madonna-Whore complex, the idea that women can be categorised as either being only worthy of marriage or sex. The Madonna can be described as a pure, good and civilised woman who is suitable for marriage, whilst the Whore is perceived as a less honourable, hypersexualised woman who men can only view as a sexual object. Margaret Atwood’s novel, The Handmaid’s Tale, illustrates this divide in its most extreme form: wives are revered, and handmaids are reduced to reproductive vessels. While dystopian, Atwood’s novel highlights the real-world consequences of a society that continues to see women through a rigid patriarchal lens.
Although feminism has made significant strides in challenging these harmful misogynistic narratives, it is also clear that many young men uphold these misogynistic beliefs, and many young women have internalised them. As young women become more radical in their feminism, young men from ages 18-29 are rejecting feminist ideals at a rate higher than their fathers’ and grandfathers’ generations.
With the rise of incel (involuntarily celibate) culture in young boys, fuelled by online spaces that glorify male victimhood and female subjugation, gender views are becoming increasingly polarised. Claiming support for “traditional values”, these men advocate rigid gender values which tie a woman’s value to her purity and sexual history. The incel movement and its ideology thrive on male victimhood and female resentment, framing women as unfairly selective and responsible for male suffering. The rise in support for figures like Andrew Tate reflects a shift in how popular culture perceives virginity and female sexuality. Tate has marketed misogyny as a form of self-improvement, targeting young, impressionable men who want validation and acceptance. Rather than adapting to modern social dynamics, incel’s retreat into toxic echo chambers that justify misogyny and, in extreme cases, real-world violence.
So, what can we do to end harmful perceptions of women, their virginity, and their worth? How are we supposed to convince men to perceive us as people, not marital assets or sexual objects?
I am sure that the women reading this, or those in your life can agree that resolving the unsettling perceptions of women, even in modern liberalised nations, feels like an uphill battle more often than not. Some women are taking more radical approaches, such as political celibacy or engaging exclusively in relationships with other women , to reject the heteronormative ideas perpetrated by the myth of virginity. More passive forms of feminism against this rhetoric would take the form of protecting women in online spaces and regulating online spaces in which men are susceptible to extremist ideas. An improvement in sex and relationships education within schools, especially boys’ schools, to prevent young men from adopting these ideologies. In light of a recent rise in the discourse surrounding sex industries, there has been an initiative to ban or regulate pornography to prevent harmful or violent attitudes towards women, such as fetishising virginity. It has become clear that in recent years, with a constantly evolving narrative leading the feminist movement, detangling ideas regarding virginity may take some work. However, both passive and active forms of feminism should and can only try to enact change amongst men in order to keep women safe from the harmful rhetoric produced by the virginity myth.
Edited by: Emily Rose Hone
Image: ”Blooming Boy Flower” by A.Jarret, 2013 // CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
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