In the end, I’m not troubled by the language of losing, as long as we understand that some losses are to be welcomed as well as grieved. When we lose a fear of heights by learning to skydive, we overcome an obstacle. That’s a positive loss. When we lose our fear of speaking up, and become assertive in social situations, we have lost something we needed to lose. Loss can be redemptive and a marker of spiritual, physical, and psychological growth. Rather than trying to avoid using the language of loss to describe first sexual experiences, we can broaden our understanding of what it means to lose.
If the word “lose” is related to the Latin luere, as most etymologists suspect it is, then we have a powerful reminder of the full dimensions of “losing”. Luere can mean “to atone for,” to “lose,” but also to “loosen” and to “let flow.” If to lose is to loosen, then it’s a short jump to realizing that another way to think about losing is to connect it to newfound freedom. Think of Marx’s famous line about the workers of the world having nothing to lose but their chains.
Sometimes, it’s “hurrah” for loss. Sometimes, for the best of reasons, it’s the right word for first sex.