I was 8. . . (Edited Jan. 2020)
I was 8 when my mom’s best friend told me not to marry for love first, but to find a sugar daddy. When I asked why, she told me that money was more important than love and it didn’t matter if I disrespected myself to get it.
I was 12 the first time someone sexualized my body. I was talking with my best friend when a guy came up and told me I had a great ass and then grabbed it. He thought I was 14. Five years later, he still does it every time he sees me even though I say no and hit him.
I was 13 the first time I was consistently sexually harassed. He would grab and slap my ass in the hallway despite me telling him to stop constantly. Later, I went to hang out at his house because we were friends. He tried feeling me up. If his sister hadn’t walked into the room when she did, he would have stuck his hand down my pants and I wouldn’t have been strong enough to fight back. We were in the living room out in the open.
I was 14 when I was playing pool with my best friend and his friend nudged his shoulder and pointed to my chest as if I couldn’t see him. They were 19 and 20. My best friend shut him down, but his eyes were glued to my chest and my ass for the rest of the night.
I was 15 when a guy told me he’d never be able to date me because I wouldn’t have sex with him. He was 19. We lived four hours away from each other. He stopped talking to me shortly after and began pining after a friend of mine after stalking me through her. I came out to my friends as asexual that year, and they laughed at me and told me I just hadn’t found the right person yet.
I was 16 when I was supposed to have my first date. We met through a mutual friend but had never seen each other face-to-face before. A day before our scheduled date, he cancelled and lied about why. He realized I wouldn’t allow him to get in my pants and that turned him off. He ghosted me two days later.
I’m 17 and I got my first boyfriend a month ago. He’d been pining after me for almost a year, and I finally gave in and asked him out because he’s sweet and we had gone through a lot together. He kissed me without warning, and I lost control of the situation. He was so into it that he couldn’t tell my hands were shaking when he grabbed them to put on top of his shoulders so that he had easier access to my boobs. I went home and had a mental breakdown and later told him why I can’t even kiss somebody. He claimed he was okay with that, but I felt it was only a matter of time before he grew bored and impatient and either forced it on me, or dumped me. I stayed with him for another week and procrastinated breaking up with him because I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to hurt him, but I knew staying in the relationship would only hurt me.
No matter my age, my weight, the words that come out of my mouth, or my reactions to their actions, people just can’t seem to understand that I’m not just here for pleasure and sex.
No matter how many times I say, “I’m asexual” and explain what that means, the response is always the same: “You just haven’t found the right one yet.”
I told a trusted classmate about my breakdown after my boyfriend kissed me two days later. “You just need to relax and trust him. The pleasure is worth it, trust me.”
I told my mom about the breakdown. “You’re not ready, but you’ll get there one day.” When I tried to test her reaction to my sexuality by joking that I was asexual, she rolled her eyes and asked me if I was really going to hop on the train of the never-ending sexualities.
I told one of my closest friends about it, and she told me that women were better and to just try to like women. I can’t possibly be asexual because of the way I talk and the jokes I make.
I’m 17, almost 18, and I graduated high school 3 days ago. My boyfriend wasn’t happy with how uncomfortable and untrusting I was with him, but he was trying. He hasn’t told his friends about anything because he’s ashamed, though he tries to tell me he isn’t. My friends laugh and make fun of me when I try to confide in them and ask for their advice. There’s only one person who has remained consistent even after not speaking for two years. My once-best-friend, now 23, was the first person I told about the kiss. He asked me why I hadn’t told my boyfriend I’m asexual. I told him it’s because I didn’t want to risk losing him and that I was afraid he’d laugh in my face. He told me that if that’s the case, I shouldn’t be with him. Six years ago we made the prediction of how my first kiss would turn out. It happened exactly as predicted, and I realized that he was the only one who truly knew me from the beginning.
This isn’t a post to bash men. Men are not the problem, society is. I’m a teenage girl who felt pressured to get a boyfriend because I was 17 and had never dated anyone, kissed anyone, or slept with anyone. I was pressured more by women than by men. The only person who believed in my sexuality was the man who is 5 years older than me and has known about every single one of these incidents. Even after not speaking for 2 years, after missing out on 2 years of my life, he still knows who I am and what to say.
Instead of blaming men, how about spreading awareness and stopping the toxicity from both sides? Fix society as a whole instead of targeting one specific group and generalizing them. We need more than #metoo movements and pointing fingers. We need communication and open minds. Instead of force-feeding everything, sit down with each other and talk and reason. Arguing won’t solve anything, and no one can ever seem to see that.
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