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Virginity was a topic my peer group growing up took very seriously. Being the child of teen pregnancy made me extra cautious and anxious about the whole idea of "losing" it. The idea of being in a relationship or having any sort of intimate contact made me very uncomfortable. Due to that, I avoided all forms of intimacy altogether, including even a kiss.
When I met my first romantic interest, it caused a lot of fear for this reason. In the early stages of our relationship, he also seemed to try and cross boundaries and push me further than I was really comfortable with doing. With wandering hands even when I voiced my discomfort and being told my body belonged to him. It all felt very uncomfortable and rushed but I was young and not sure how it was supposed to feel. Since my friends were quite reserved about these things I honestly thought this was normal, that this is how it's supposed to be when you are first doing anything intimate.
After a few short months of being together, it was clear he planned on having sex. It was also clear that not only was I not sure if I was really ready to have sex, but that the idea of having my body exposed made me uncomfortable as well. My development was quite delayed which caused much of this discomfort, to that he responded that I was "fine" and assured me we would wait until we were both ready and comfortable.
A short two weeks later, he invited me over to his parents on a hot Wednesday afternoon. When I arrived, he informed me that his parents would be out for a few more hours and that it would be the perfect time. He grabbed my hand and led me to the basement, directly to his bedroom door. I will never forget the fear inside me when I looked to see the bed made with only two pillows and a thin sheet. Beside that just a dim lamp and one condom on the nightstand. This made me panic, I did not want to give away my virginity to him.
The only thing I could do was make a 180 turn and retreat to the living room. I sat on the sofa and expressed that I didn't feel ready and was very anxious about it. He picked me up and carried me to his room and threw me on the bed, this made me obviously even more uncomfortable. He assured me we could just make out and see what happens and stop whenever I felt like we should.
After a matter of a few moments, he had me stripped down to just my undergarments. He grabbed my underwear with both hands to pull them off quickly but I grabbed them by the middle in an attempt to keep them on. That was far enough, but he insisted we carried on. I said, and I quote, "I don't want to, I feel really nervous about having sex." What came after that made me feel like there was no other choice, that I was scared of what would happen if I did not have sex with him that day.
"We aren't leaving this room until we have sex." What followed that was him taking my virginity from me. He put on that one condom and entered me. Laying there on my back in pain and in silence while he hovered over me without even noticing the tears building in my eyes. After a few of the longest moments of my life, there was a small sound from upstairs. We both heard it and he rolled off me to listen, that was my chance to stop. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and ran naked to the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I put all my clothes on as quick as possible, after I stood in that bathroom, looking in that mirror for a very long time. I felt as if I wasn't even looking at myself anymore, that part of me never left that bedroom. After shaking and crying to myself for a few more minutes he knocked on the door. I dried my eyes and took a deep breath and opened the door. When he saw me, he looked surprised that I was fully clothed he then said, "False alarm, one of the cats was getting into something but I guess you're done for today."
After that, we sat on the sofa and I did not say a word. He put on a show he liked, got comfortable, and after a few minutes turned to me and said, "You don't think I finished from that do you?" That is one of the things that really stuck with me from that experience. After that, I left and tried to go home and wash the feeling of him and his words off my skin.
Now, over five years later, I am able to see that situation over and over enough to realize that what happened between us was not consensual. Although, back then I may have thought that since I didn't scream or fight free it meant I did. Now, as someone who is much more sexually mature and educated, I can fully realize that it was not mutual. As someone who has now been the target of many other forms of sexual harassment and abuse, I can say what happened was clearly unwanted. After every encounter of this nature I've had the same questions, why was no not enough and why did I freeze? Taking advantage of fear and power or making someone freeze out of fear is NOT consent. I am strong enough now to know that how I reacted was normal, that many people freeze out of the fear of causing more harm by fighting.
This is the first of my experiences on a list of many moments where I have felt violated, scared, used, dirty, disgusting, shameful, abused, broken, hurt, and less important or valued than someone else. This is why we must continue to share our stories and grow stronger together. This is the beginning of my personal fight against sexual abuse and harassment. Everyone has there stories, this starts my story of moving on and ends my story of feeling like a victim. #Metoo