I had my first sexual encounter when I was 12 driving with my cousin in the back of an SUV.
Our parents silhouettes in front of us. We were both minors and I was curious, and after all I was adopted, so we weren’t ‘really’ cousins.
But we both knew it was wrong.
Shortly after, I started having sex.
I had found a short lived power in being available for lustful interactions, because who else was putting out at that age...?
Somewhere in there is a mixed up desire to have a man for each of my needs, as my mother had explained to me the luxury of having men, bring you food, or pay for gas, give you rides, etc. and then proceeded to show me pictures of her in revealing (not in a derogatory way) free spirited outfits from the 70’s era and I wanted to follow suit.
Include an additional mix of teenage angst, confusion and misdirected hormones, I soon found I was in over my head.
It didn’t help that a year later the movie Thirteen came out and I chose these main characters to be my dysfunctional idols. The way men looked at them, I wanted that, so I continued to ‘fine tune’ my interactions.
From being fucked on a log at my middle school and behind the auditorium, to the tiled bar where I would continue to eat meals with my mother and her friends for years to come, to an all time low of fucking my ‘boyfriends’ best friend on a disgusting throw away chair in an alley behind our karate studio.
I was active. And I liked it. And even though we were a bunch of stupid teenagers, I was never ‘under the influence’ and I always ‘pursued’ them, and they always seemed to ask ‘are you sure?’ so even though my young undeveloped brain was making these decisions I feel like it was always consensual. I never once felt violated.
By the time I was 19 I had over 100 different sexual encounters. With maybe 3 actual relationships somewhere in there. And for WHATEVER FUCKING REASON. I remained unaffected by sti/std’s. Which I feel is somehow fucked up.
But this is just a preface for the main part of my story.