My first one night stands

Posted on January 23, 2012 by
lighting, party

Image from www.pinterest.com

I have always been a “good girl”.  Never played hooky, got good grades, generally polite, sweet, innocent … those are the sorts of words that come to mind when I think back to my younger years.  I was also a bit of a “late bloomer”. I wasn’t really interested in boys until about 16, only had my first kiss at 18, got drunk for the first time at 18 and so the list goes on.  When I went to University I carried on along a similar path. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I definitely did things I probably “shouldn’t do”, but *gasp* I never, you know, slept with anyone I shouldn’t have.

I only slept with two guys at University – both my boyfriends, although the first one wasn’t at the time, and I can hardly say that it was memorable (I’m not sure I did actually sleep with him, which may sound weird, but we were both so drunk, I didn’t feel ‘sore’ the following day, and I don’t recall any blood (that may however have been due to my inebriated state)).

Anyway, enter boyfriend number 2.  We slept together (enough in a two year period) but I never actually enjoyed it. It was a chore. How lame is that? I loved him; he loved me, but sexually? I just don’t think we were compatible.  I used to think it was me, that I was just destined to not enjoy sex, and that was that. (This may have also been because when I first went for a pap smear the University doctor mentioned I was ‘built differently’ which I suppose lingered at the back of my mind.) Anyway, in time we broke up (which ironically was not because of the sex, but that’s a story for another day) and I started my life in anew city.

A few months passed and I had to go and see my doctor for my annual pap smear (never fun, but important nonetheless) and while there I got to talking to her and queried whether there was anything, you know, wrong with me. She laughed and told me to stop being silly and that there was nothing wrong with me.  I told her what the other doctor had said. She said that what the other doctor probably meant was that my lady parts are usually found in girls that are very tall (I’m not – I’m about average height). So then I queried, well why hadn’t I enjoyed sex with my long term boyfriend? So she asked a number of questions, one being how often we had had sex. I replied, not often (who wants to have sex often when it’s uncomfortable!?) and she responded and said that that was the problem and that the next boyfriend I found I should lock myself in a bedroom with him for days on end and get used to sex and then I should, in all probability, enjoy it.

Great! Now to just find that elusive boyfriend…  Well two years went by and nothing happened.  In this time I heard my ex had moved on and would be getting married. Great.  I had no inclination to have him as the last guy I had had sex with, but at the same time, no one was presenting themselves as someone I necessarily wanted to date. Just great.

party

Image from www.pinterest.com

I then went to this party and boy what a party it was. Bright lights, fun clothes, awesome people, too much alcohol.  Well, anyway, as I suppose things happen, I met this guy, partied with him and ended up going home with him.  It was great, he was great, minus the fact he was about 4 years younger than me and we probably shouldn’t have drunk as much as we had. We laughed, talked, had some good sex, laughed some more and he dropped me off at home in the morning.  I knew him through someone else that knew him and we had fun. I had fun. Fun having sex.  Awesome.  Then the doubt started creeping in. I had had sex with someone I didn’t know and didn’t care about. Was this a problem? I did struggle with this for a while, but then got over it.  I had had sex with someone I’d wanted to have sex with, it was good, and I had had fun. Added bonus? My ex wasn’t the last person I had had sex with.

Fast forward 5 months, and it was the same sort of situation. Too much alcohol, love was in the air, very, very sexy man and me.  Suffice to say sex happened and when I say happened, I mean OMG mind blowing, out of this world, crazy, fun, phenomenal sex. Now THIS was a problem … on so many levels. 1. It was great that I found out I was capable of having mind blowing, amazing sex (twice) but 2. I felt like I had done something wrong when I hadn’t, because I had now slept with two men that weren’t my boyfriends.

This I struggle, and continue to struggle with.  I think it also has to do with the fact I do actually want someone in my life, but don’t really have the time to commit and, in all honesty, haven’t really met anyone yet.  What further compounds my problem is that I can’t get this man out of my head. We talk (a little) but don’t stay in the same province (which is probably a good thing) because I worry that I’m probably making out our evening in my head to be far more than it actually was. I know that it was just sex, but it scares me that I can have such amazing sex with someone I don’t know. It also scares me that I can now and seem to “just have sex”. What I do know, and have gotten from these experiences, is that I can’t continue to have sex with “random” guys – the guilt eats me up inside (for no reason – I’m young, single, use protection, and enjoy myself – I can tell myself this, but I still feel dirty). So then I realise, I need to meet someone, to trust them, to date them, to have sex.

New conundrum. When will I meet said person? I’m either destined to be celibate, or hopefully, sometime soon, Mr Right (or even Mr Right Now) will come along and he and I can have mind-blowing, amazing sex, that I now know I’m more than capable of having.

Posted in Freedom, Sex, Sexual Experimentation, sexual health, Sexuality | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

The First Time I was Pregnant for a Day

Posted on January 20, 2012 by

Okay so obviously it wasn’t really only one day. I was actually three-weeks-and-a-day-pregnant when I found out. The decision was an easy for me; it simply wasn’t the right time. So the day after I found out, I took steps to have a medical termination and this is how it all happened.

Tuesday, 14h15

Stood in Clicks looking at the array of pregnancy tests:  disposable, electronic, early pregnancy, twin packs and more. I went for the one in the pink Toblerone shaped box. I only got it to put my mind at ease after being less than responsible with my pill on a recent month of travel and then having some great break-up sex with my recently ex-boyfriend on my return. Then I got cracking with my Christmas shopping to distract nosy shoppers’ eyes from the anomaly in my basket.

15h30

Image from imgfave.com

Got home and dumped shopping bags on the kitchen counter. Kept having to stop myself from thinking, “I’ll just have a quick wee and then I do the test.” Ripped open the packet with distinct diagrams to the effect that “one line = exhale, two lines = knocked up” and peed on the stick. My home phone started ringing, “Bugger!” I galloped to the lounge with my shorts and panties around my knees, “Hello?”. A fax tone responded: beep, beep, beep. I glanced at the stick: one line. Then, as the liquid travelled further up the window, as inevitable as a wave claiming the beach, a second line appeared. I realised I was still holding the phone, begging the fax machine on the other end to take the second line away, “No. No no no. Please no, please, please no.” The two bold lines remained. I wasn’t just me anymore.

15h32

Phoned ex-boyfriend hyperventilating.  I bellowed, “I’M FUCKING PREGNANT!” with absolutely no rom-com charm. Sat on the floor in t-shirt and panties, crying into a towel and staring at those two lines in absolute disbelief while ex-boyfriend came rushing over from work.

He was totally lovely – everything anyone in my position could have asked for. He was tender and respectful and concerned and absolutely supportive in every way of every choice and decision I made.

17h00

Image from www.weheartit.com

Went back and got another two tests. All positive. Like cherries on a slot machine, “Bing! Bing! Bing! You’re so freaking pregnant!” I sat looking at the three tests for ages. I kept returning to them, mesmerised. Ex-boyfriend worried that it would make me sad.

19h30

Phoned my best friend who laid it down in ecological terms: “In nature, when an animal is carrying a baby and the time is not right – there’s not enough food or there’s danger – the animal naturally aborts. This is your beautiful body and it’s your right to choose what happens to you. Right now, what’s inside you is a group of cells.The is just not right and you’ve chosen to do what’s best for you. You are so brave; you’ve made a really brave decision. We are all here for you.”

23h00

Couldn’t sleep. It was four days until Christmas and I had no idea how long any procedure would take. Googled local clinics and decided to see my GP first thing. Lay next to ex-boyf and talked. He kept making me laugh by pretending to fall asleep mid- sentence.

Wednesday 7h00

Woke up and stared at the ceiling alone for ages before ex-boyf woke up. Felt the numbness of disbelief trickle into a warm, magical feeling of wonder. I felt special. I still didn’t even consider having the baby but just the mere fact that I did it. My body was made to get pregnant and I did it. It felt quietly wonderful.

Got up and phoned the GP. Made an appointment first thing.

08h30

My normal GP was on leave for Christmas and so I had to see the other doc in the building. As I announced that I thought I was pregnant, the turd responded with “Oh wonderful! That’s such exciting news!”

After clarifying the situation, she gave me a list of recommended Gynaecologists who “deal with this sort of thing”. After trying most of them only to hear that they were on leave, I found a Woman’s Wellness GP who would see me that afternoon but I needed an ultrasound before then to make sure it wasn’t an ectopic pregnancy.

11h00

Image from www.pinterest.com

Sat in a gown in a tiny room drinking water for an hour before my bladder was full enough for the technician to use as a lens to see into my uterus. It was totally like the movies: cold gel, what looked like a roll-on deodorant, a black and white screen.

13h00

Met with the new gynae-GP. She was amazing. She invited ex-boyf in but I decided I wanted to do it by myself. She explained everything clearly without being judgemental or condescending. I had found out so early that I could use the medical method which involved taking a series of medications which terminates the pregnancy and induces a period over two or three days. She was thorough with understanding my emotional state, my support structures and my decision-making.

15h30

Took the first medication that would detach the foetus from the lining of my womb.

The procedure went off without a hitch. The doc was in touch on the phone every day; I hardly suffered any symptoms, in fact, I think family Christmas (which I went to the next day) was more painful! Ex-boyf sat next to me for three days straight while my body let go. It’s taken a while to process it all since then; you can’t rush figuring it all out for yourself. I’m grateful that the (second) doctor was so great. I only wish other girls in this situation could be treated so well; cared for and respected.

I told my family in my own time and in my own way. Maybe that’ll be another story.

Posted in Friendship, Growing Up, Motherhood, sexual health | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The first time I do it

Posted on December 13, 2011 by

The first time I do it… It will be right. It will be smooth and well crafted. It will not take a toll on me that hangs. Tugging down my shoulders keeping my chin from pushing my eyes up to see the layers of building tops touch the sky.

The first time I do it… finally to a man. Finally, to feel equal and stand up to him, to talk back, to call him out. To be assertive. The first time I do it… it will be authentic.

The first time will be quickly forgotten as it will be the first day that I step into that skin. The skin that I have been crafting in my mind. This skin will suit me, it has come from my mind, representing my heart, what I think and feel and especially what I know.  The first time will befinally; and then, yes, then forgotten.

Image from www.weheartit.com

It simply becomes the way that I am. Every day. Not that one significant time that I acted the way that I would love for every woman to act. Every day, for every woman to feel free to act out against any one, especially men. To act out without fear of ridicule because we have the right. Just as one knows they are innocent.. I know that I am powerful. I have the right to be, feel and act equal.

I have the greatest desire to, for the first time… not cow-toe in inferiority, not be afraid of disapproval, not feel dizzy with the conflict between mind and behavior. I won’t care if I hurt his feelings nor will I be concerned with the interpretations of others of me: abrasive, harsh, bitchy, extreme, angry, bitter, cold, childish, pushy, touchy. I will be proud of my authentic assertion, and not ony the first time.

I know that finally, and for the first time, I finally will have found so much of me that I have been searching to know.

The part that woke me up from slumber inside of a relationship where the part of me that makes people laugh had vanished. The part that stands up for the women I know and love. The part of me that loves and trusts her womanhood. That part of me that has come out fiercely and courageously in the company of women.

Only was I able to stand up and confront the pick pocketer and the crafty thief on the bus when it was a woman and her son. Only was I able to take charge that time we were lost out on a mountain and the headlights went out.. when I was with my best friend a beautiful and successful woman. I know I have a Sergeant inside. I know she is there and she is GOOD and she has come around in the presence of women, but she has been trained so well to take her subordinate place in the presence of men.

Image from www.weheartit.com

After the first time my behavior catches up with what I know, I will for the first time stand up courageously without regard to gender. After the first time, I will not ignore the man’s hand quickly groping me on the street (again). I will not be reluctant, worrying about embarrassing him or the woman he is with. That poor old creep who sees me as the parts of my body that he has a desire to abuse will not be ignored by me. Nor will I again be quiet and polite to the man following me, inappropriate with his words about MY body. I will not tell him that “Today, I just want to be alone,” or “Yes, it’s because I have a boyfriend, sorry”.

The first time I do it I will finally be saying goodbye to the path of least resistance.

Posted in Inspirational Messages, Power | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment