Tag Archives: support

The first time I realised that my friends weren’t as great as I thought they were

I’ve always seen the value in being alone. I might not like it, but I see its value because it keeps me from getting hurt.

Being the lone wolf, however, is not a strategy that gets one very far. For the past couple of years, I’ve let many people into my life. I’ve told them so many of my secrets. I thought that the hardest secret to tell would be about my bipolarity. But it turns out that I’d rather people know that I’m bipolar than that I’m bisexual.

I know that there’s nothing wrong with me. I know that I deserve to be happy and to love openly. But other people don’t know that. It’s amazing, because people who have been so accepting of my bipolarity always have the same things to say about bisexuality.

“But how do you know?” (How do you know if you’re straight?)

“Ugh, I couldn’t like a guy who slept with guys!” (If sleeping with guys is so gross, why do you want to do it?)

“Ugh, that’s so greedy.” (‘Bisexual’ does not equal ‘screwing everything that moves’.)

“You’re just confused.” (I’m not. I’m not and you don’t have the right to tell me that I am.)

I’ve only told one person that in the past three years. She was supportive, but confused. She thought that, because I’d never slept with a guy or a girl, I couldn’t know whether I actually liked both. But her response was generally good, so I wanted to tell more people.

I tried, I really did. I called some of my friends into my room for a study/snack break. Bisexuality came up because a song played on my laptop that was sung by a bisexual male artist. And before I knew it, all but one of them were saying the same old ignorant and hurtful things. I got upset, but I tend to get upset by all prejudice (imagine that), so I don’t think anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary. But it hurt. It hurt more than anything has hurt in a long time because I knew that they would feel differently about me if I told them. Our jokes would all seem inappropriate (we’re masters of innuendo), our hugs would change.

So now, I’m beginning to see the value in being along again. The real me, the one I lie about every day, is alone. And I notice her more and more every day.

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The first time I was sexually abused

I don’t actually know when it started. I was always best friends with him. We grew up together. I had known him for 10 years when it happened. I was 15, just a month or so before my 16th birthday. We always spoke about sex and sexual things and I felt so close to him, like we could share anything. We discussed our childish fantasies and, in a society overrun by sex, we had a lot to discuss. I don’t know when he started to confuse emotional intimacy with physical intimacy.

Looking back, I guess he was always inappropriate. He would do what young boys’ do- grab my ass, make comments about my body etc. But it was ok because that was HIM, he could get away with anything. Honestly, I think I liked him more than just friends. There was always something there, that possibility, but we never acted on it. It was just too weird.

Eventually, he got a girlfriend. It was grade 10- the partying year, and boy, did we party. It was never more than 10 of us; we liked to keep things small. We only ever drank, there were never drugs. We partied at a girls’ house whose parents were chilled with alcohol.

The one night we were all messing around, playing suck and blow, and he started feeling me up. I didn’t make anything of it because he was just like that. He was touching me and after a while we were in the pool. Some other guy was with us. I don’t know how subtle we were but he stuck his hand in my underwear- that’s all we were wearing. The girl’s parents weren’t home so the two guys and I went to go lie in their bed. That was the first time he fingered me. It was terrible. It was so unexpected and uncomfortable. I couldn’t get wet. He was really rough.

The next time it happened was at a guy’s house. I was falling over drunk. I don’t really remember how we got to the bathroom. I knew we had flirted a bit but when he took my pants off I said no. It made me super uncomfortable. He was checking out my vagina and complimenting it. I wanted to die. I was wearing thigh high boots so my pants didn’t go down. He made me stand up and he started fingering me. I think I was in shock because I just sagged against him and asked him to stop. I still don’t know if he didn’t understand. I said ow (I wasn’t wet) and tried to push him away. When he had finished I went outside.

It only hit me the next day at our school’s fun day. His girlfriend was with him. I started freaking out so my best friend walked me home. I told her everything and we cried together. We told my sister, who told my parents for me. We were leaving for Europe in a few weeks. I decided not to go to the police; I just couldn’t imagine causing trouble for him. I went away for a month and when I came back I saw a psychologist.

Most of my friends know what happened to me but they are all still friends with him. Even the best friend who cried with me.I don’t know what to do because seeing him makes me sick and my friends aren’t doing what I need them to do. It’s only been a year and I feel like I’m starting to sound whiny. I don’t want to lose more friends… I need them. Sometimes I wonder if I just imagined the whole thing, like maybe I didn’t say no enough or maybe I led him on. I know that it’s natural to second guess what happened but sometimes I just wish I could forget it so that things could go back to normal.

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Filed under abuse, Relationships

My first abortion

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I fell in love for the first time ten years ago, well at least what I thought was love. He was the typical bad boy – the one everyone warns you about; involved in drugs, a player and egotistical. I never listened, and yes my heart got broken and I did things I never expected I would do. However, I do not regret it as it has lead me to be the person I am today and I am very content within myself.

The first few months of being with him are indescribable; exciting to say the least. A bit of playing hard to get, the excitement when you hear your phone beep and hoping it was from him, the first kiss the list goes on. I was falling and falling hard. Up until I had met him I had always believed I was strong, a girl who knew what she wanted and that wouldn’t settle for less – I had a mouth on me and I knew how to use it. I was the girl that never relied on anyone to pay for me, pick me up, make me happy – I was rather independent. That was until he came along, I was completely under his “control”. He made me question my beliefs, the way I dressed, the way I spoke, the way I carried myself. He was molding me into what he thought would be the perfect girlfriend. My moods became erratic, I would lash out at those closest to me when they would try talk to me; in other words I became a b*cth. Friends and family would caution me about him when I would tell them his latest antics – and I would always have an excuse to cover up his bad behavior.

A couple of months down the line, I became an emotional mess. One key moment was whilst we were watching a movie I broke down in tears of jealousy over an actress that was beautiful – I was convinced he would rather be with her than me! I couldn’t understand it – this was not my behavior. I noticed other changes and somewhere in the back of my mind I thought to myself “maybe I am pregnant”. It definitely was probable because there were sometimes when we did not practice safe sex and I had to go get the morning after pill. I confided in my friend and she offered to take me to the pharmacy after school (I was in Matric at this time). Off we went on her scooter, laughing and joking about it. Surely I wasn’t pregnant? Alas three tests later and I was definitely pregnant! Sh*t, now what?

To say the boyfriend wasn’t thrilled is an understatement, he immediately got on the phone to his older brother and asked where I could get an abortion! He broke down and said that his father would kill him and I was far too young to be a mom. I don’t know if I should just blame it on the hormones, the love I felt for him or the lack of maturity on my side but I agreed to go the next morning and have the abortion.

We arrived at the clinic, a dodgey little shop in the middle of town. I was shivering, starving and petrified, the boyfriend tried to comfort me and tell me that we were doing the right thing. We walked in and sat down in a queue of people and I just knew right then there was no way I could do this without speaking to my parents first (I am the only child and have an extremely close relationship with my parents – just shows you how toxic this relationship was that I did not go to my mom straight away). I burst into tears and told him I could not do it without speaking to my mom, he told me that it was fine but that he would never step foot in my parents house again.

I roped in my best friend and we told my mother, which then lead to telling father, obviously they were not happy and rather disappointed but they were as always caring and supportive. Both my parents agreed that an abortion would be best for me; my best friend also seemed to think so as well. So now I had four people rooting for an abortion and now that I think of it no one asked me if that’s what I wanted. I suppose subconsciously I had made up my mind as well. We went the following Monday to book an appointment with a reputable family clinic, where I was well informed of the procedure and the effects it would have on me – the lady I spoke with was amazing and she really put my mind to ease. I was booked in for the Wednesday and the abortion would be done under anesthetic.

The morning arrived; my mom and best friend would be coming with me. The boyfriend had to work – never mind we bumped into him and his brother at the garage – they were on their way home from a party! Yet still, I covered up for him and said just maybe that was his way with dealing with it. It was not the traumatic experience I thought it would be but I would put that to the fact that I was under anesthetic and had some really amazing support from my mom and best friend as well as the staff at the clinic.

That night my parents had to go to a work function and my boyfriend came over but he would rather have been at his ex-girlfriends 18th birthday party. Right that was the perfect way to end an emotional day! He eventually left for the party and I was left alone to my own devices and all I remember is feeling numb. I knew I should be upset, crying – I had just aborted a tiny little baby! Maybe I should have felt relieved? It was over and I could move on but I felt nothing. I have this ‘thing’ that when I am confronted with matters that really get to my heart I either push them back as far as I can or I make light of it, I never fully deal with it. My coping mechanism I suppose.

Or my coping mechanism could have been the copious amounts of alcohol consumed, the experimenting with drugs and a one night stand (stories for another day), or finally forgiveness. It has taken me a long time – I initially seemed to have “forgotten” but not forgiven, but I am happy to say that I have finally forgiven myself and found a sort of sense of peace – I will never forget but I hope that I have learnt from it. The abortion and unhealthy relationship led me to take some very wrong turns, but there was a lesson at every turn and boy did I learn them. I have changed my life around completely and am strong in my convictions, beliefs and myself.

So fast forward 10 years later – the boyfriend and I never worked out (surprise!), he is now a father to two gorgeous children, a boy and a girl but apparently not very happy with his babies mama, which is sad to hear especially because of the children. Me? I am happily in love – real pure, honest, respectful and true – with an amazing man (7 years almost) and I believe the wedding bells will ring shortly. I cannot wait to be the mother of his children – if God so blesses us- and I will give them extra love to make up for the ‘lost’ one.

I would just like to put a note out: the morning after pill does work, in most cases, however and what some pharmacists do not tell you is that if you take it too often, your body gets used to it and it will not work. I had taken it three times in three weeks and that is how I fell pregnant (well there was the birds and bees involved – of course)! By saying that it works, I do not recommend it – I recommend the ABC’s – abstinence, birth control and a condom.

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Filed under Motherhood, Sex