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New York Post
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Post
I'm a 47-year-old virgin — and here's why I'm terrified of being intimate
A man says he is still a virgin at 47 as he is 'petrified' to be intimate with anyone. Andrew Brookman says he's always been 'timid' and struggled with bullying at school. His parents divorced when he was aged 10 which fueled his fear of being social, getting into a relationship or being intimate with anyone, he claims. Andrew didn't want to go through arguments and had a 'fear of life' so felt he would 'rather be on my own.' UK man Andrew Brookman says he is 'petrified' to be intimate with anyone. Dmitrii Kotin – He says his fears also stemmed from suppressing his sexuality and homophobia he saw at the time he was growing up. Porn became his 'only outlet' and reference for sex and Andrew says he struggled with an addiction to watching it for up to a two hours a night everyday when he was in his 30s. Now he is starting to open up about his sexuality and is no longer ashamed of being a 47-year-old-virgin. He feels he can relate to those on Channel 4's new show, 'Virgin Island' — a unique course in intimacy to help them overcome the fears that are holding them back. Andrew, a cleaner from Wales, said: 'I've never been in a relationship. 'Watching other people get divorced — and seeing arguments gave me a fear of being social and intimate. 'I didn't want to go through all that. 'I'd rather be on my own. 'You feel a sense of shame [being a virgin]. 'Having no confidence, no self-esteem and no self-worth and being repressed of sex drove me to seek therapy because I was petrified of getting intimate with anybody. 'I am not ashamed of being a virgin at 47.' Andrew struggled growing up and always felt he was 'different.' He said: 'I've always been timid and quiet. 'I've always been afraid, I've always been emotional. 'I got bullied in school. 'I was different. I was odd.' As a teenager he 'fancied girls' but didn't know how to progress any further. He said: 'I wanted to move forward but I couldn't because of my confidence.' At aged 16, Andrew realized he was attracted to men and gay but he was fearful of opening up about his sexuality due to homophobia in society at the time. He said: 'The fear grew. 'I went into the closet.' In his late 20s he had therapy and was put on anti-depressants but Andrew still struggled to get passed his fear. He also tackled a porn addiction in his 30s when he got his own place — which saw him watch gay porn every night. Andrew said: 'It was my only outlet. 'It was my only way of feeling sex and seeing sex. 'I wanted to be doing it as well. I was jealous of them [the porn stars]. 'I was enraged that I couldn't even have sex in private.' Now he is starting to let his walls down by writing a book called 'Colours of a rare bird.' He says writing how he feels down has helped him overcome shame and he has volunteered for the first time ever at his local pride. Andrew says he dislikes that people will laugh about others being virgins. He said: 'It's not funny. 'By now I should be openly gay — I should be in a relationship. 'I'm not afraid to admit it now [that he's a virgin].'
Daily Mirror
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
'I'm a 47-year-old virgin - and I'm not ashamed'
Andrew Brookman has never been in a relationship and says he has always been 'timid' A 47-year-old man says he is still a virgin due to his "petrifying" fear of intimacy. Andrew Brookman, who hails from Pontypridd, Wales, admits that he's always been "timid", with school bullying exacerbating his social anxieties. His parents divorced when he was just 10 years old, further fuelling his fears of social interaction, relationships, and intimacy. Andrew did not want to experience the arguments he had witnessed in his parents' relationship, leading him to develop a "fear of life" and a preference for solitude. He also believes that his fears were compounded by suppressing his sexuality and witnessing homophobia during his formative years. Pornography became his "only outlet" and reference point for sex, leading to an addiction where he would watch it for up to two hours every night throughout his 30s. However, Andrew is now beginning to embrace his sexuality and no longer feels ashamed of being a 47-year-old virgin. He finds solace in relating to participants on Channel 4's new show Virgin Island, which offers a unique course in intimacy to help individuals overcome their fears. Andrew, who works as a cleaner, said: "I've never been in a relationship. Watching other people get divorced - and seeing arguments gave me a fear of being social and intimate." Andrew, who has been open about his experiences, said he felt a deep-seated sense of shame about being a virgin, which was exacerbated by his struggles with low self-esteem and confidence. He said: "I didn't want to go through all that - I'd rather be on my own. You feel a sense of shame (being a virgin). Having no confidence, no self-esteem and no self-worth and being repressed of sex drove me to seek therapy because I was petrified of getting intimate with anybody. I am not ashamed of being a virgin at 47." Growing up, Andrew faced difficulties and often felt like an outsider. He said: "I've always been timid and quiet, I've always been afraid, I've always been emotional. I got bullied in school. I was different. I was odd." As a teenager, Andrew had crushes on girls but lacked the confidence to take things further. "I wanted to move forward but I couldn't because of my confidence," he added. At 16, Andrew discovered he was attracted to men, but the fear of being openly gay in a society plagued by homophobia at the time led him to keep his true self hidden. He said: "The fear grew. I went into the closet." Andrew sought therapy and was prescribed antidepressants in his late 20s, but he continued to struggle. He continued to battle his porn addiction in his 30s. Andrew said: "It was my only outlet. It was my only way of feeling sex and seeing sex. I wanted to be doing it as well. I was jealous of them (porn stars). I was enraged that I couldn't even have sex in private." Andrew, who has always been guarded, is now baring his soul through the pages of his new book 'Colours of a rare bird'. He shares that penning his emotions has been a cathartic journey, helping him overcome shame and even led him to volunteer at his local Pride for the first time. Opening up about society's ridicule towards virgins, Andrew expressed his frustration, stating: "It's not funny. By now I should be openly gay - I should be in a relationship. I'm not afraid to admit (that I'm a virgin) now."
Daily Mail
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
I'm still a virgin at 47 after my parents' relationship made me terrified of intimacy - and I developed a damaging addiction
A man says he is still a virgin at 47 as he is 'petrified' to be intimate with anyone. Andrew Brookman says he's always been 'timid' and struggled with bullying at school. His parents divorced when he was aged 10 which fuelled his fear of being social, getting into a relationship or being intimate with anyone, he claims. Andrew didn't want to go through arguments and had a 'fear of life' so felt he would 'rather be on my own'. He says his fears also stemmed from suppressing his sexuality and homophobia he saw at the time he was growing up. Porn became his 'only outlet' and reference for sex and Andrew says he struggled with an addiction to watching it for up to a two hours a night everyday when he was in his 30s. Now he is starting to open up about his sexuality and is no longer ashamed of being a 47-year-old-virgin. He feels he can relate to those on Channel 4's new show, Virgin Island - a unique course in intimacy to help them overcome the fears that are holding them back. Andrew, a cleaner, from Pontypridd, Wales, said: 'I've never been in a relationship. 'Watching other people get divorced - and seeing arguments gave me a fear of being social and intimate. 'I didn't want to go through all that. 'I'd rather be on my own. 'You feel a sense of shame [being a virgin]. 'Having no confidence, no self-esteem and no self-worth and being repressed of sex drove me to seek therapy because I was petrified of getting intimate with anybody. 'I am not ashamed of being a virgin at 47.' Andrew struggled growing up and always felt he was 'different'. He said: 'I've always been timid and quiet. 'I've always been afraid, I've always been emotional. 'I got bullied in school. 'I was different. I was odd.' As a teenager he 'fancied girls' but didn't know how to progress any further. He said: 'I wanted to move forward but I couldn't because of my confidence.' At aged 16, Andrew realised he was attracted to men and gay but he was fearful of opening up about his sexuality due to homophobia in society at the time. He said: 'The fear grew. 'I went into the closet.' In his late 20s he had therapy and was put on anti-depressants but Andrew still struggled to get passed his fear. He also tackled a porn addiction in his 30s when he got his own place - which saw him watch gay porn every night. Andrew said: 'It was my only outlet. It was my only way of feeling sex and seeing sex. 'I wanted to be doing it as well. I was jealous of them [the porn stars]. 'I was enraged that I couldn't even have sex in private.' Now he is starting to let his walls down by writing a book - Colours of a rare bird. He says writing how he feels down has helped him overcome shame and he has volunteered for the first time ever at his local pride. Andrew says he dislikes that people will laugh about others being virgins. He said: 'It's not funny. By now I should be openly gay - I should be in a relationship. 'I'm not afraid to admit it now [that he's a virgin].' The topic of virginity has been front and centre in popular culture due to the popularity of reality show Virgin Island. The six-part series featured 12 individuals who were still virgins - Zac, Charlotte, Pia, Ben, Taylor, Emma, Tom, Jason, Dave, Viraj, Holly, and Louise. They all travelled to Croatia with the aim of losing their virginity on camera. Aged between 22 and 30 years old, the first-timers worked with a range of sex and relationship coaches, sexologists, 'bodyworkers' and even tantric masseurs to help them overcome their fears of intimacy. Those on the coaching team ranged from four to 20-plus years older than the young virgins. They used their wealth of knowledge to guide them in one-on-one and group sessions throughout the course of the show. Dave, 24, had sex at the end of the retreat, with Holly going on to lose her virginity after filming ended in Summer 2024. The cast have a chat group, and according to Holly, she messaged the chat 'almost as soon as it happened', as she was 'excited to tell them'. Meanwhile, Charlotte, a 29-year-old care worker grew as a person while taking part in the retreat and has since been 'more comfortable' in her skin, and 'in romantic situations'. Civil servant Ben, 30, is still a virgin, but he has been busy speed dating; Emma has yet to have sex, and has been busy traveling Down Under since the show ended; and admin worker Jason, 25, has joined dating app Hinge. Louise, 22, has also been travelling around Australia. Her co-star Jason expressed an interest in her, and she said she would be down for a date with him if she decides to return home from New Zealand. Following her time in Croatia, 23-year-old Pia reunited with one of her exes. Drama student Tom, 23, who has not yet had sex, returned to Manchester University to continue his studies. Taylor, 29, bravely spoke out about her sexuality during the show, coming out as a lesbian, but despite growing so much as a person, she's still not slept with anyone since the show. Personal trainer Viraj, 25, who has yet to lose his virginity, is travelling around Australia. And delivery driver Zac, 28, was keen to lose his virginity during one of his sex surrogacy sessions during filming - but it didn't end up happening, and he is yet to have sex.
Wales Online
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Wales Online
'I'm a 47-year-old virgin - I'm terrified of being intimate with anyone'
'I'm a 47-year-old virgin - I'm terrified of being intimate with anyone' Andrew Brookman says he is no longer ashamed of being a virgin as he nears 50 Andrew Brookman says he is 'petrified' to be intimate with anyone A man says he is still a virgin at 47 as he is "petrified" to be intimate with anyone. Andrew Brookman says he's always been "timid" and struggled with bullying at school. His parents divorced when he was aged 10 which fuelled his fear of being social, getting into a relationship or being intimate with anyone, he claims. Andrew did not want to go through arguments and had a "fear of life" so felt he would "rather be on my own". He says his fears also stemmed from suppressing his sexuality and homophobia he saw at the time he was growing up. Porn became his "only outlet" and reference for sex and Andrew says he struggled with an addiction to watching it for up to a two hours a night everyday when he was in his 30s. Now he is starting to open up about his sexuality and is no longer ashamed of being a 47-year-old-virgin. He feels he can relate to those on Channel 4's new show, Virgin Island - a unique course in intimacy to help them overcome the fears that are holding them back. Andrew says childhood struggles have had a major impact on his life Andrew, a cleaner, from Pontypridd, Wales, said: "I've never been in a relationship. Watching other people get divorced - and seeing arguments gave me a fear of being social and intimate. "I didn't want to go through all that - I'd rather be on my own. You feel a sense of shame (being a virgin). Having no confidence, no self-esteem and no self-worth and being repressed of sex drove me to seek therapy because I was petrified of getting intimate with anybody. I am not ashamed of being a virgin at 47." Andrew struggled growing up and always felt he was "different". He said: "I've always been timid and quiet, I've always been afraid, I've always been emotional. I got bullied in school. I was different. I was odd." As a teenager he "fancied girls" but didn't know how to progress any further. He said: "I wanted to move forward but I couldn't because of my confidence." Andrew is writing a book about his life At aged 16, Andrew realised he was attracted to men and gay but he was fearful of opening up about his sexuality due to homophobia in society at the time. He said: "The fear grew. I went into the closet." In his late 20s he had therapy and was put on anti-depressants but Andrew still struggled to get past his fear. He also tackled a porn addiction in his 30s when he got his own place - which saw him watch it every night. Andrew said: "It was my only outlet. It was my only way of feeling sex and seeing sex. I wanted to be doing it as well. I was jealous of them (porn stars). I was enraged that I couldn't even have sex in private." Now he is starting to let his walls down by writing a book - 'Colours of a rare bird'. He says writing how he feels down has helped him overcome shame and he has volunteered for the first time ever at his local pride. Andrew says he dislikes that people will laugh about others being virgins. He said: "It's not funny. By now I should be openly gay - I should be in a relationship. I'm not afraid to admit (that I'm a virgin) now." Article continues below Find out more about Andrew's book here -
The Guardian
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
A reality show sent 12 virgins to an island to learn how to have sex. The result was weirdly coy
Channel 4's latest attempt to straddle the line between televised humiliation and light titillation came to an end this week. Virgin Island documented a two-week bootcamp for 12 'courageous virgins', whisked off to Mamma Mia!-style surrounds and delivered into the hands of self-proclaimed experts with job titles such as 'emotional intimacy coach', 'surrogate partner therapist' and 'sexological bodyworker'. These professionals were meant to help them overcome physical and emotional hang-ups around sex, and offered a kind of hands-on, public therapy that for most of us previously existed only in nightmares. Having watched the entire series across an especially sedentary weekend, I'm in no position to doubt that this sometimes made for maddeningly good TV. From tutorials in oral sex to animal role-play, the whole affair resembled a sun-kissed gameshow with a few premature ejaculations scattered in for good measure. At the end of the series, only one contestant had lost their virginal status, and it briefly seemed possible that the grinning individual in question might be presented with a Bullseye-style prize for doing so – a Nissan Micra for your victory in the boudoir, perhaps? Miles from the mainland, with nothing but deep-rooted psychological trauma or diagnosable medical disorders to get in the way, Virgin Island positioned itself as a locus of pure fantasy. Unfortunately, this was also its downfall. Turning sex into a series of uncomfy routines to be memorised and performed (classes included practising ''smooth transitions' from one position to another, or learning exactly when during a dinner date to kiss your partner's hand in the manner of a serial killer), the show seemed unable to admit that sex is not only a physical challenge but a social phenomenon, one bound up with unpredictability, rejection and power. Still, the oddly evacuated social politics of sex kept cropping up. Cast member Charlotte spoke about trying to work through issues with shame, but had few qualms about humiliating others, openly repulsed by the 'horrible stretch marks' of civil servant Ben. When anxious Emma, 23, was paired with confident, middle-aged 'sexological bodyworker' Thomas, she was visibly uncomfortable. The optics of their pairing – and how unlikely it was to help Emma – seemed not to matter. Then there was Zac, the villain of the piece. In one scene, he dished out a range of objectifying compliments to the women of the show. These women had little interest in finding out whether they would be winners ('banging body') or losers ('good sense of humour') in Zac's personal hotness Olympics, but on he went regardless. Zac seemed to have almost no issues around sex, other than his lack of it. He described his intense impatience as his coach delayed penetrative sex, seemingly keen to race through the steadily paced structure of the programme in which individuals graduated through various sex acts only if and when the experts deemed them ready. His best explanation was, fascinatingly, that perhaps she was intimidated by him. Having said as much, Zac was kindly asked to put on his clothes, but beyond this, Virgin Island seemed totally uninterested in engaging with the behaviours and dynamics actually exhibited by the group. Desire is complex, unpredictable and often indecipherable even by those experiencing it. Nothing about this could have been neatly resolved in six hours, but a gesture to the relationship between what happens in the bedroom and what happens beyond it might have helped. True to the neoliberal navel-gazing that so defines our times, Virgin Island invited its contestants to look only inwards, but more interesting lessons might have been learned if they had observed their relationships with one another, too. They might have noticed a grimly gendered divide, in which many of the women were indeed intimidated by men, a situation unlikely to be helped by the 'up against the wall' practice session where nervous participants were made to forcefully push partners up against a pillar, with as much allegedly sexy conviction as they could muster. What are the connotations of a move like that? Why might some people, sometimes, like it, and some people, sometimes, not? TV producers, fearful of dull detail, might be sceptical, but for my money, those conversations would have produced the most revealing content yet. From childhood trauma to fantasies of worship, it was clear that for absolutely everyone on the island, sex was inseparable from power. Why, then, couldn't the programme admit it? Maybe because to open up a conversation about power would risk admitting the odd imbalance at play as paid professionals take an ambiguous pleasure in laying hands on often vulnerable bodies, all while denying a transaction is taking place. The show had little choice but to remove power from the conversation lest it, ironically, expose itself. Perhaps most unexpectedly of all though, in doing so, Virgin Island often boxed itself into a dull little corner of denial. Pretending that sex is a matter for the bedroom alone? You don't get much more vanilla than that. Jennifer Jasmine White is a writer and academic
