Confessions

I never understood why I didn't like sex, until I was 21. That's not something you want anyone to know, so I would keep it to myself. A conversation would be about 'what's your favorite position' and I'd hate myself for thinking 'my favorite part is when it is over.' Girls would be giving 'sex tips' and I'd be lost, because it didn't match how I felt about sex at all. The sex I knew was laying there, waiting for it to be over, and trying not to cry.

Remember your first time? Was it with someone special, or were you just eager to take the first opportunity to lose your virginity? All I remembered about my first time was that I couldn't believe it had happened, and the guilt about it being with the brother of my first love. I couldn't make any sense of it. I only told one person the only thing I knew (I had lost my virginity) and she couldn't have cared less... it had nothing to do with her.

Well, 8 years later I remembered more. All those black blurry areas between showing up at his house for a party that I was told was supposed to happen, and waking up the next morning... well... they were suddenly clear again and finally made sense of my first time. The one beer I drank should not have made me so sleepy. (At 13, I was a proffessional partyer.) There is more about my first time that I will choose to keep a secret, because I just don't even like thinking about it. But that's not all of my secret. That's just the beginning. Here are some more of my secrets.

*When my boyfriend raped me in front of 3 of his friends... I blacked out. He was letting his friends touch me... and I think he finally stopped when I blacked out... but I didn't know that I was being raped! I knew I had said no, repeatedly, but I also knew that when you say no... it usually doesn't matter. So 2 weeks later when those friends 'visited' while he was away, one of them stayed downstairs and played 'lookout' while the other two held me down upstairs and took turns having sex with me... I felt as though I was only there physically. I 'left' myself. But I didn't know I was being raped. As far as I knew, that was sex. (I was 14)

*When the person who was supposed to give me a ride home from babysitting was too drunk and he was trying to force me to drink tequila, and he had me pinned on the floor ripping at my clothes... I didn't know he was trying to rape me. I just thought he was trying to have sex. That's how it usually happens, right? When I got away and I was wandering the streets, shaking and crying... I couldn't understand why I was so upset. I had no idea what was wrong with me. (I think I was 14. My memory is so awful that I can tell you what happened, I'm just not sure when.)

*When my room mate's boyfriend threatened me everytime she was at work... the only thing I knew is I was a slut because I was having sex with my room mate's boyfriend while she was at work. The only thing I felt was guilt and self hatred. It was my fault, right? (I am pretty sure I was 17.) I was so out of tune with the importance of my not wanting to that even though I was still making it clear, it was very easy to push me. I knew that even if I didn't want to, that made no difference on it actually happening. I was a very weak person. I was a perfect prey.

*When I woke up in the middle of the night to a total stranger (good friends with the previously mentioned roommate's boyfriend) on top of me... I did know that I was being raped. I tried pushing him off. He was stronger. As it was happening, I realized it felt just like everytime I had ever had sex before. It still didn't click with me yet. It just made me even more uncomfortable about how I felt about sex. Why didn't I ever want it? Why didn't I ever enjoy it?

*When I was engaged, and I didn't ever want to have sex... my fiancee was very unhappy about this. He knew I had been sleeping with my ex-room mate's boyfriend, and had also had sex with a total stranger while I lived there. He told me one night that "It's not fair I'll let everyone else f* me, but not him." I called the wedding off 2 weeks later. I had become engaged because I was very lonely, but I was realizing that I would rather be alone. I didn't want to have sex with anyone ever again.

To close this life story of mine, I will shock everyone with a twist. I am very happily married today... and to a complete sex addict! It sounds like a recipe for failure. He would have sex everyday all day, if possible. I would be happy to never have sex again. The way we show someone we love them, and the way we need to be shown that we are loved are so far apart that it seems inevitable disastrous. However, I married the right man and I'll tell you how I know this.

He is the first and only person I shared my secrets with. He knows how easy it is for me to feel obligated to have sex... because you're supposed to. He will not allow me to have sex with him unless he is 100% positive that I want to be with him because I want to be with him. That, in my eyes, is true love. It is because of him I learned how to want to be with someone. There is absolutely no pressure at all in our relationship, other than my own feelings which he will be strong enough to counter. Although we may not be together as often as he likes, the times we are together will be mindblowing for absolutely both of us.

~*~For anyone who has ever been raped... I strongly advise that you stand up and stop feeling ashamed of that tiny voice that tells you when you aren't enjoying sex. Stop hiding it, because as long as you are embarrassed to recognize it... the more you will resent sex.~*~