I remember the night I lost my virginity. I wish I could forget it. I wish I could forget it because it traumatized me to the point of never wanting another man to ever touch me again. But I agreed to it. I wanted it to happen. I was almost going to be 21 years old, living in the dorms my first year away from home in a university, having transferred from my small town junior college. I didn’t want to go home “innocent” for the summer. Besides, the first year at college is when you get all your experiments out of the way. I had a month and a half before the spring semester ended, was getting ready to move back home for the summer and was crushing on a cute boy I met in my computer science class. I had already gotten drunk and tried pot. This was the last thing I needed to do before I left. And I was ready to lose my virginity; or so I thought I was. Growing up, I had been so sheltered in my family’s religious beliefs to save myself for marriage; but I was on my own and wanted to make this decision as the adult that I was.His name was Phillip and he was the first boy who paid attention to me upon arriving to our first day of class for the spring semester. He sat diagonally behind me and when I would turn around to check the time on the clock mounted behind him, he’d send me a cute smirk. The first part of our boring computer science class was a forty-five minute lecture. The second part was at a computer lab across campus. After class, the students would walk in a group along the many stairs and scenic views of the university and out of all the other girls in our class, Phillip walked alongside me. We’d talk about our interests and why we’re both majoring in computer science. But it didn’t take long for me to realize this wasn’t the major I wanted and decided to drop the class three weeks into the semester.
I didn’t give too much thought about not seeing Phillip again after I dropped our class. I didn’t get hit-on or asked out on a date very much when I was living in my small hometown and my insecurities of not feeling attractive had followed me. About a week later I received an email from him. He found my email address on the student directory and asked why I hadn’t been to class. I would eventually see him around campus and have short phone conversations whenever he would call me. I didn’t know if he liked me or not but I went along with the attention he was giving me. I finally realized he was interested in me when he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I chuckled and said “No.”
The next couple of weeks during the middle of the semester we hung out on the university court yards. I had fallen for him so quickly and didn’t want it to end. He hadn’t kissed me yet and I was getting anxious for him to make the first move. All I wanted was a kiss; and possibly more.
I decided to invite him over on a weekend I knew my three roommates were going to be gone. I casually asked him if he wanted to hang out in my dorm room to watch a movie. I put on my favorite movie at the time, The Pest, and we sat on my bed leaned against the wall shoulder to shoulder. I had the biggest butterflies in my stomach. He tickled my arm with his fingers and before I could giggle he leaned in and started kissing me. I let him lay on top of me, kissing me, touching me. I was beyond excited but fearfully nervous. This was the first time any man had ever touched my breasts, caressed my upper thighs and put his hands in my underwear. I knew this was it. This was the moment I was going to lose my virginity. This is what I wanted. Right?
By the time he grabbed a condom from his pocket, put it on and slipped into me, I wanted him to stop. But I couldn’t say it. My body kept tensing up from the pain I was feeling. I felt like I was being ripped open. He kept going even though my whimpers were clearly expressing pain and I would try to push his body away from mine with my hands to feel less pressure. I wanted him to stop so badly but I just couldn’t say it. I even felt guilty for thinking it because I set this up. I told him to come over. I suggested we sit on my bed.
When he finally stopped I had tears in my eyes. I wasn’t ready for it. I wish I could have realized sooner that I wasn’t ready at all. He didn’t notice my tears. He got up, used the restroom and said he had to leave to study for a test. I never wanted to see him again. I felt so violated and ashamed at myself for feeling violated because I felt I had no right to feel that way. I blamed myself for letting it happen. He never called me again after that night and we avoided each other around campus. Even though I didn’t want to see him again, a part of me was wishing he would call me, apologize and tell me he still wanted to be with me. But the phone never rang and I was left brokenhearted.
After that night, I never let a man put their hands on me. If I was on a first date with someone and he leaned in to kiss me and put his arms around my back, I’d feel violated and never want to see him again. If I was getting to know someone I really liked and he put his hands on my outer thigh just to caress me, I’d break it off and never call him. If any guy I’d meet even mentioned the word “sex” I’d have an automatic reaction to lose interest. I couldn’t help the way I felt. It continuously happened for five years. I pushed them all away. Even a very sweet young man named Oscar who only wanted to get to know me. I felt like a hypocrite because at first I did want to date, I did want to get to know someone, but I couldn’t stand the thought of any man touching me.
It took me a long time, five years, to realize that this was eventually going to happen again with whichever relationship I end up in. But this time, I would pursue to have sex at my own pace and at my own comfort. It was between me and sex itself. Not me and the person I have sex with. And when I finally let it happen again, I was no longer afraid. I wanted more. I understood that this was a part of everyday life and I was doing nothing wrong whether if I’m having protected sex with the man I’m dating or making love with the man I’m in a relationship in. This is what I needed to know before I lost my virginity. But I guess this is where we all learn. We learn from our mistakes and I don’t regret any of it.