"Like a Virgin," Bust Magazine, April/May 2010

It’s an anecdote typically riddled with fumbling, blood, and backseats, not to mention a plethora of underwhelming sensations. It’s the “how I lost my virginity” story, and nearly every woman has one. L.A. based writer and editor Abby Kincaid, 35, is calling on those of us who’ve forfeited our v-cards to share our experiences with the world on her website Defloweredmemoirs.com. Through word of mouth and submission calls on Craigslist, Kincaid has rallied a bevy of sharp, brutally honest narratives for a project that she hopes to one-day compile in a printed and bound work. In the meantime, she updates the site weekly with her favorite stories of purity lost.


Kincaid says, “I want all women to be able to make choices regarding their sexuality and its expression without worrying about its impact on their social reputation or their future relationships.” Although she believes progress has been made, she is frustrated that a woman who loves sex is only a whisper away from slutdom. She asks, “Can we please get rid of the slut/prude continuum, the Madonna/whore complex(?)!”


Initially in 2007, Kincaid’s intention was to publish only humorous and entertaining essays, but when she received a devastating submission from a woman who lost her virginity to a date rapist, she realized that all types of deflowering tales deserved a place in the collection. “When I read the story,” she says. “I knew it was one that should be included as a reminder that, while many women, myself included, might choose to dispose of their virginity in a manner that seems fairly careless, some don’t get to choose at all.”


The range of the project has expanded with live performances of “Deflowered: Live and Rated R,” in which Kincaid has enlisted actresses to bring the submissions to life in Los Angeles.  She explains, “I have always loved the physicality of performance. And I love it when women talk about things they aren’t supposed to talk about.  I think most women AND men love it too.  Furthermore, I believe that even people who would never want to discuss their own experiences in such a public forum can feel connected and understood and even quietly empowered when hearing the stories of others.” The audience, then, is invited to squirm, laugh, cry, cringe, and relive the epic disappointment of this once-in-a-lifetime ordeal.

Whether big or small, male or female, comic, tragic, or just pathetic, all women are encouraged to submit their stories.  Let Deflowered Memoirs pop your publishing cherry!