It changed me.
It changed me in ways I’m not sure are always so good.
Before I spill all, some background on me.
I grew up sheltered, innocent, and trusting. And, I don’t regret any of it for a minute. I had an amazing childhood that was pure. I wouldn’t trade it, because being sheltered is not what brought on this experience.
I was always strong-willed, stubborn. Wouldn’t break for peer pressure, never.
But I reached my late teens, still unable to keep a guy around longer than a couple months. I was a virgin. And once they either A) found out or B) realized I wasn’t putting out, they were gone.
It was pissing me off. All my life I heard, I read that guys ultimately want a good girl, but it was the girls who had sex getting and keeping the guy. Not me. It wasn’t like I was ugly, stupid- I often received compliments, which was nice. But I guess I finally let the outside get in.
And that was my downfall. My downfall was caring that guys wouldn’t stay around. How stupid of me. I am worth more than sex, and I should have seen that. A relationship should be more than sex. A relationship does not, and will not fulfill me or make me happy.
I am in charge of my own happiness. Happiness isn’t a destination- it’s a decision.
Relationships are not everything, and being single is actually pretty awesome. (Unfortunately I learned it after my life changing experience.)
So at twenty and a half years old, I came up with an incredibly stupid plan: find a hot guy and have sex. Mind you, I was saving myself for marriage, and this wasn’t exactly easy for me. But I wanted the guy- any guy.
So, that hot guy I met at Christmas eve (he’s mentioned in my previous post “It Happened Twice”) became my target. Or whatever.
Except once I started hanging out with him, I wasn’t so sure I was actually ready to lose my virginity. Maybe being a virgin wasn’t so bad after all…
I had never drank alcohol up until him. Well, that’s a lie. I had a little a couple months before him with my best friend. But he got me into it.
And we’ll just call him John- ya know, John Doe. Anonymous name.
John was always drinking beer- Bud Light to be specific. He offered me a drink. It was nasty, terrible. But we’d drink beer and play games. It was fun, and I was totally captivated by him.
I stayed the night. And of course sleeping in his bed, things were bound to heat up. We made out- passionate kissing, touching…til I told him to stop, I hadn’t done this before and I don’t want to go any farther.
He seemed okay with that, and I was thrilled he didn’t just ditch me. Although I found out why a few nights later. He bought vodka, had me over. I drank too much. And we go to bed. We’re making out…he goes down on me, and I tell him to stop. He says he won’t do anything else, it’s just about me so I relent. It did feel amazing.
And like I said, I was drunk. So one moment he was down there, and the next he shifted and I felt intense pain. I grabbed his biceps and told him to stop. He just looked at me, going deeper. I pushed, I shoved, begging him to stop. He didn’t, and I finally quieted down when I saw he was getting annoyed, and I couldn’t get him off me.
For the next hour, or so- I don’t know how long it was, at least 30 minutes- he fucked me. I tried to get into it, moving like I knew what I was doing. It was dark; he never saw my tears.
By the time he got off, I was numb. The tears dried on my face. I get up to use the bathroom, and when I came back, he was fast asleep.
I was completely numb for days. I felt no emotion. I did finally talk to him about it, and asked if he believed me when I said I was a virgin. He was surprised, and said no. That I was twenty years old, that girls lie, blah blah. I just said that explained why he was so rough. He apologized profusely. And I lied and told him it was fine, I only do what I want, he didn’t make me have sex. But he did. He forced me.
I don’t blame him entirely. I let myself get drunk with a guy I barely knew. I stayed the night. I wasn’t more forceful when I told him I wasn’t okay with sex. And I never should have had a plan to lose my virginity. Maybe I would have changed my mind, and decided to wait, because that night it happened, I was not ready. At all.
And it wasn’t just the sex that changed me. He did. He took this young girl, and showed her everything. (Well not really, but whatever.)
He stole a huge chunk of my trusting nature. Instead of believing guys are good with douchebag sides, they’re all douchebags until proven otherwise.
I guess I grew up, which is what we all do. But it happened suddenly for me. And it’s all because of him. I’m not the same super sweet girl. I’ll still do anything I can for somebody though.
He took my innocence, and I became jaded. Far too jaded. I was always under the impression it took at least two heartbreaks to jade one this badly. He did a number on my heart, and it took me close to a year to fully recover.