Blogsecret

I am participating in this thing called BlogSecret. I have submitted my secret, and it will be posted on another participant’s blog. This is not my secret (it wouldn’t really be a “secret” if it were MY secret, now would it?)

Nilsa has posted a list of all the participants on her blog. Go check them out, and happy reading!

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I’m a girl. A woman, I suppose. And you know that whole double-standard thing – a guy sleeps with handfuls of women, and he’s a player, a girl does the same and she’s a slut? That’s the story of my life. I have slept with 49 men. And a few women, as well. No one knows this. Would they judge me? Hell yes. You’re probably judging me as you’re reading this.

But you dont know why I did what I did, do you? Well, here’s the story, that not many people know.

I was 15. I went out to a nightclub with my friends, without my parents knowing. I went drinking, and partying. My first time doing anything ‘illegal’. I got drunk. And was raped. By someone I knew. That guy took my virginity. On the rooftop of a shitty, seedy nightclub. And then left me there.

My friends didn’t believe me. They knew the guy, and they said he’d never have done something like that. Why would I make this shit up? was my flabbergasted response.

I’d planned on waiting until I got married, before losing my virginity. I wanted it to be special. With someone special. I wanted to have fond memories of my first time. Not alcohol-blurred traumatic recollections. But I never got what I wanted. Someone else made that decision for me. Someone else stole my virginity. Without second thought. And then made me doubt myself. Made me think I’d come on to him. That I’d begged for it. Whatever.

After that, sex was nothing special to me. Sex was nothing to me, in fact. I slept with whomever took my fancy. I realised that I was only doing it to re-gain some measure of control. I had no control over the first time, so maybe I could have control over the other times. Control over other men. The sex was empty. Meaningless. Boring. I could never orgasm. I could never bring myself to make myself vulnerable enough to allow my body to enjoy the sexual acts I was parttaking in. I didn’tcare.Another notch on the bed post. Another fuck. Throw that guy away, and move on to the next one. Maybe the next one could get through to me. Maybe the next one would heal me.

They never did. I’ve realised now, that it’s up to me, to heal myself. How I’m going to do that, I’m not entirely sure. But I do know that this is the first step on a very long journey to self-discovery, acceptance and healing.

But I want to still know one thing. Now that you know the story, do you still judge me for having slept with so many people?