Today’s my birthday, which means I’m officially the 30-year-old virgin. I’m not embarrassed. I’m not afraid to say the V-word. My lack of (ahem) experience is a running joke with my friends, and I’m happy to keep it going—as long as they don’t start believing that virginity equals purity. In a world where sex is king, some might think 30 years of celibacy is a huge moral achievement. It’s not. Sure, in my singleness I’ve...