It won’t magically give you confidence that you didn’t have before, it won’t change how you think or make you empirically more or less attractive.
There is no difference between a person who has had sex and someone who hasn’t.
Even a woman’s hymen is no demarcator of virginity; many will rupture their hymen long before they’ve had penetrative vaginal intercourse.
To be a virgin is no different, ultimately, from never having eaten Chinese food or having been to Disneyland.
In fact, you could reasonably equate the two; more often than not, you wait for too damn long for a thrill that’s over in under 3 minutes and half the time you’re wondering what the big deal was.
The fear of reaching is who is a virgin past a certain point – generally as soon as puberty hits, if we’re honest about it – is convinced that they’re on the cusp of reaching some nebulous “point of no return”.
That deadline – the idea we have to lose our virginity by X date or remain forever unfuckable – tends to vary; we tend to put undue importance on arbitrary dates because they carry totemic significance for us.
Others may have had penetrative sex but not “count” it for one reason or another.
Still others may have never so much as held hands with someone who wasn’t a family member.
For some, it’s a quest to lose our virginity the night of The Big School Event (Homecoming, Prom, Spring Formal, what-have-you) because it’s part of the modern high-school mythology that we’ve made up.
For others it’s trying to beat a particular date – our 18th or 21st birthdays, high-school or college graduation, before summer’s over, before getting married.
Men are under as a rite of passage to adulthood is a deeply entrenched one; thus, men carry around the idea that you are still just a boy until you’ve managed to actually ejaculate into another person’s vagina, no matter how old you may be equates virginity with childhood.