I wake to an vacant, cold, and obscure room. My naked body is
sprawled across an unmade and what appears to be an unclean bed. I try to lift
my weak figure from the stained sheets, I cannot seem to move.
Limp, beaten, and broken. I am confused as to how I got here and to
whom I was sharing these intimate moments with just prior to coming to. I
thrust one arm into the air, using all force to keep it from wilting again. I start to feel around the area, looking for
clothes, blankets, anything to be able to cover my exposed body. My fingers make contact with a cool, silky
pool of liquid on the ground. I run my hand over it, patting at it lightly, I
then lift it to my face to smell and identify the substance. When my hand gets
close enough to my eyes I am able to make out a cherry red fluid and it’s not
what I smell but what I start to feel.
Pain erupts throughout my stiff form and I begin to shriek for help.
I am shaking now, tremors have broken out and I cannot hold still. I am
screaming, wailing at the top of my lungs.
Is anybody there? Is anybody going to help me?
My lower half has started to really throb, my head is jumping around
at the speed of light, and my eyes are sending tears out at an accelerated
rate. I am able to push myself up out of the bed and snap the lights of the
room on, revealing the horrific scene of virginity lost.
And then I wake up.
Do you remember when you did it for the first time? You
know, IT??
I do. I remember it
all of the time; it’s not something you forget. Well, if you did lose track of
that particular memory then you are way more experienced than I believe anyone
should be.
But hey, no judgments…trust me I am in no place to evaluate
one’s life choices.
When you lost your
virginity did fireworks go off? Was it magical? Was it true love?
No, it was not for me. I wish it had been I really
do. Shit, I wish it had been just a decent experience overall, maybe not even
my soul mate or someone I loved; maybe if it had just been a better
circumstance than I wouldn’t be sitting here today wondering what it means to
give up your body and virtue to another human being.
As some of you are aware, it is a very precious
thing to give yourself to someone else. I guess after some of my experiences
and situations I have been put into I haven’t really taken it as seriously as I
should have. I spent a lot of years controlling and pushing men around after
all they had done to me. I had this misconception that love didn’t exist and
people were always out to get me. So for a couple of years I took it as “me”
time and I went hard on destroying men. I dated, I cheated, I lied, I used, and
I manipulated them into giving me what I wanted and then I tossed them aside. I
felt as though it was my gift back to the gender that tortured and abused me
for years as a young girl. Take that males, you get what you give. You took my innocence
and now I am showing you what a girl who lacks that feature has to offer-despair.
When I saw the blood that as some call their ‘cherry’ popped
and blemished through the floor and sheets, I was devastated. The gift that I
was meant to give to someone exceptional, I didn’t actually give. It was stolen,
an unreturnable act. I was robbed of the only thing I had left from my
childhood that wasn’t complete shit. After everything I have been through, the
roller coaster of a life that I was dished out….this….this right here was the
one thing that has never been rectified in my life. Sure, the drugs and the other
abuse had its justice served one way or another. Those who aided in the mistreatment
as a child and teen were served their piece of karma cake. But this man, he
still walks the streets. In fact, he walks them thinking he is some kind of
fucking champion. I am pretty damn sure of it.
The man in question: Let’s call him Drew. Because I like
metaphors, let me tell ya he drew me out a friggin path after that
entire charade he had put me through. (I’m so punny, I know).
So let me tell you about Drew and all of his
glory. Drew is cute, in fact he’s more than cute he’s very attractive. Athletic
looking, dark curls, very blue eyes, and a perfect smile. Drooling right?
Drew is a lot older than me, I am 14 years old and
he is 19. He is one of my brother’s friends who occasionally make an appearance
at my house when he comes home from his Army life. (Yep, he’s in the army…..)
Anyways, he is dreamy and loves attention-therefore he is
also quite cocky, he lives to flirt with any and every girl that looks his way.
Doesn’t matter if you’re the ugliest, fattest, or youngest in my case, he will
flash those pearly whites and make your knees give out. He knows his game, he
LOVES the fame.
Man, did I ever even have a chance? I wonder that sometimes.
So of course every time Drew comes over I
am acting as mature as I possibly can and wearing a bit of my mother’s
make up in order to take away from the fact that my underdeveloped body and
small features are a dead giveaway that I am jail bait. I never really wanted
to sleep with him, I didn’t have that in my head whatsoever, I just wanted him
to pay attention to me. Perhaps I just wanted anyone to pay attention to me at
this point; after all I am a 14 year old girl who had already suffered plenty
of loss and pain before. Maybe I thought he would be a prince charming of some
sort…a rescue to my suffering? Whatever the reason I had a crush on him. Every chance he received he would smile, touch
my hand, tell me encouraging things, and sometimes he would hug me for a really
long time and stroke my back very lightly. I remember one specific memory he
told me I was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life and he wished
that he could be my boyfriend but he was so sure I had many other admirers
knocking on my door. I almost fainted with excitement.
So naturally after hearing about him you think to yourself,
was she raped or was she just crying wolf?
I want you to stand up, get your simple closed minded head
out of your ass and then open your eyes to what you are about to have revealed
to you.
I never asked to have sex; I never once made physical or verbally
advancements that would suggest I wanted to partake in the forbidden fruit. I
never asked to be so mentally fucked up and disfigured for the rest of my life.
I DID NOT WANT THIS.
Although for years I tried to convince myself that
it was my fault, I led him on and I provoked these actions. It’s always been me
who is my enemy, me who beats me up. Me who makes the monsters, me who strips
my confidence.
Maybe I did want it at first? Maybe I should be
ashamed of myself?
No, that cannot be. Because despite my well acquaintance
with sex and all that in entails from my previous encounters of being molested,
I did not like sex. It scared me, it made me uncomfortable, and it caused me to
remember those events that I did not wish to relive.
When Drew came into my home that day he was drunk,
a little bit under the influence of some sort of substance I do not know or
even care to know at this point and he grabbed me tightly in his arms. It wasn’t
his normal snug hugs where he smoothly caressed my back, it was forced and
aggressive. I knew right away that something was not right. Before I could
speak out his mouth was covering mine and he had enveloped my body into his
muscular build. Honestly, I don’t know if I was kissing him or if he was eating
my face. I had never kissed anyone before and so I think he was really taking
the reins on that one. When he broke away I was confused and tousled. I looked
up at him and as I was about to mutter something he lifted his hand and covered
my lips. He started shoving at my torso, motioning for me to move forward
towards the basement.
He whispered into my ear “You want me to show you
how real men love on their girlfriends? Because you’re all mine tonight. Your
brother is out of sight, and I have always wanted to fuck a virgin.”
I didn’t fight back; I did not even try to squirm
out of his grasp. I just let him take me.
It was agonizing at first; I thought I had been
ripped into pieces. Then I turned my entire concentration off and I guess just wandered
away. Something I had learned from my other experiences I suppose. They can
have your body but they can’t take your mind if you don’t let them.
I wish someone had explained sex to me, I wish
someone had warned me of people out there who are selfish and arrogant, the
ones who are hell bent on destroying others. I wish that I had someone to talk
to all of those years that I was dealing with these things.
Drew went away, my family found out about the activities
that took place downstairs and I was grounded. I cleaned the blood from the
carpet, washed the evidence of the crime down the sink. I don’t think any
amount of soap could clean the dirty feeling I had off of me. My brother didn’t
speak to me for weeks, said it was my fault and I shouldn’t have been such a
slut. My mother said I was going to hell and girls like me end up with diseases
or pregnant and alone. I really believed a lot of these things, I was helpless
and scared but mostly I was worried I wouldn’t ever find someone to love.
After all this time and after I sought my revenge
on the opposite sex, I am still left with a gaping hole in the place that
should have been positive memories from my childhood. I tried to fill it with
meaningless relationships, drugs, alcohol, sex, food…everything. I have never
gotten over it.
Usually this is the part where I tell you that I
have turned over a new leaf and I am doing better, or that I know it wasn’t my
fault and I have forgiven myself as well as Drew.
Not today my friends, I haven’t forgiven Drew and
I am not sure when I will. I have in fact forgiven myself though, I do know
that I have no control over it and I am not going to end up a crack whore
single mom like others stated. But unfortunately it does still wear on me from
time to time.
I wish that I could take back some of the things
that I have done in regards to revenge for this event.
So with that, I would like to publicly and openly
apologize to those guys that I had treaded on during this phase.
Justin, though we both are not perfect by any
means you didn’t deserve some of the things I put you through. I am sorry for
being that untrustworthy girl you will always have to remember as a huge
cheating bitch.
Mike, I am sure you probably don’t even think of
me and you more than likely do not care that I am saying this but I am sorry I
ever pretended to like you. That sounds bad, but seriously….I did not like you,
I just fabricated some facts in order to have someone to toy with; and that’s
wrong on so many levels.
Phillip, you were just a pawn in my scheme of
things. I used you as my good cop in the bad cop scenario; I had you on the
side there to comfort me when ass holes brought me down. I told you that I
liked you when I really didn’t. I am sorry that I used your genuinely friendly
actions as something evil. You deserve the world and I am extremely happy you
found the right person. I am sorry.
Joe, you were a huge prick but you didn’t warrant
the bull shit I put you through. I am telling you now, and probably confirming
your suspicions. You were just there as a means for sexual activity, I did not
actually have any sort of intimate feelings for you and what we shared was very
one sided. I am sorry that I never owned up to it when you asked, and I hope
that I didn’t scar you too bad.
Just for the record for everyone to know, I like
sex just as much as the next guy. But I actually physically, emotionally, and
mentally struggle with the idea of sexual encounters. Sometimes when I am
thinking of what it means to “have sex” with someone I get nervous and shut
down, or sometimes I get excited and think about all the wonderful feelings it
brings, and other times I have reminisces of the past and I break out into a
rage. Sex isn’t the same for me as it may be for you; it holds a lot of
different meanings in my book.
I guess what I am trying to say is this; I hope
that one day all of the things I did sexually don’t end up tarnishing another
person like they did for me. I hope that those individuals I have been with,
you thoroughly enjoyed yourselves and you don’t bear a grudge me the way that I
am bitter about Drew. Though I know I have never physically raped anyone, I
hope I didn’t rape your minds or your hearts because to me that is just as
worse.
To those who have been assaulted through sex
crimes, I want you to know that you’re not alone. I want you to know that it
may seem really hard right now to talk about it, but you need to. It does not matter
how you talk about it, but at least get it out. I chose to write about my discomforts,
you do whatever you got to in order to keep going. Because despite the wrong
that was caused against you, you cannot let things like this break you. Trust me;
they affect your entirety and those around you.
Don’t let any situation make you lose yourself.
Speak up and find your voice, because nobody should ever have to feel
insignificant and lost or let alone blame themselves for something that they
shouldn’t
