I lost my virginity when I was fifteen.
My mom found out a month after it happened. It wasn’t intentional- it was a horrible urinary tract infection that put me into a panic.
Two years of pro abstinence health class had me convinced I’d saddled up with some insane sexually transmitted disease and was going to die.
Horribly ashamed and terrified, I fessed up on a car ride across town so she couldn’t look me in the eye.
She slammed her hands on the steering wheel and cursed at me.
“Goddamit, I’m not ready for this!”
I blinked back tears and felt like a failure.
It wasn’t how I pictured it- it was supposed to be like the movies. The boy romances the girl, professes his undying love for her, and it’s incredible and slow. His sure hands caress her body, and they climax together and finish in a sweet embrace.
The reality of the situation was he had no fucking clue what he was doing, and I ended up laying there alone while he went to clean up with a lump in my throat and a week of antibiotics.
We had been “going out” for three months and had absolutely nothing in common. There were no butterflies, no sweet promises of forever. Just sloppy kisses with too much tongue and rough hands that left me sore and disappointed.
This was sex?
Weren’t all my friends raving about orgasms and boys and dick size?
I finished the meds and kept sleeping with him for two more months before I started inventing excuses to get out of being alone with him.
I told my friends he was incredible, and they held on to my every word like it was gospel. I was part of this exclusive club in this hick town. The girls looked at me in awe, and the boys started tossing around the word slut.
I started wearing hoodies constantly and dying my hair different colors. I wanted so badly to be invisible but noticed at the same time.
Class became mundane, I quit doing homework and started sneaking off to the computer lab during Trig to google quantum physics.
I was that girl that people started crossing the hallway to avoid. Dangerous, dark, moody.
I finally summed up the nerve to dump him at the end of summer. He cried until snot started running down his face, begging me not to leave him, that he didn’t know who he was without me.
Who was I to hand him an identity when I didn’t have one of my own?
Two weeks later, I found out he had been sleeping with the one girl in the school I hated the most. While we were supposedly together.
Four months later, I met the man that would destroy my entire high school life, and effectively ruin who I was.