- 1. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it?
- I tried alcohol because I was curious (my reason for most things). I wanted to see if I'd feel different, if it'd taste good etc.
- 2. Do you think you could ever have an abortion if you unexpectedly turned up pregnant right this second?
- Most of me says no, I couldn't do it, but then one time recently, even though logically I was 99.8% sure I couldn't be pregnant, the 0.02% went crazy and I hated the thought of something inside me growing and feeding, like a leech alien. Which I did not expect at all, and at that moment, I thought, yes I'd get an abortion. So I'm not sure which side of me is rational and which side is irrational about. I like to think I never would, but...
- 3. If you were far from home and needed to sleep for the night, would you choose to rent a crappy motel room for $60 or sleep in your car for free?
- I'd rent a crappy hotel room if I was by myself, sleep in my car if I was with someone. Not romantically or anything, I just wouldn't like to sleep in the middle of nowhere in a car, if I didn't have someone else there verifying that wasn't a super dumb idea.
- 4. Is there a color shirt you’d NEVER wear?
- I don't like wearing white shirts but I wouldnt go as far as saying 'never'.
- 5. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it?
- Not that I can think of... score. Oh, except for group work. Even when I think my ideas are better, I usually go along.
- 6. What is your favorite video game console? Why?
- PS2. It's just the one I grew up with.
- 7. Do you like vanilla candles?
- I don't have any aversion.
- 8. Have you ever been in a relationship that was going great, and then suddenly something weird happened and you just KNEW it was going to be over soon?
- No, but I know the feeling with dating and crushes. Sometimes it just takes one small thing to turn me off them completely.
- 9. Would you ever bleach your hair platinum blonde?
- I totally would.
- 10. What are your plans for tomorrow?
- Uni.
- 11. What did you have for breakfast?
- Fruit salad.
- 12. Have you had sex in 2013 yet?
- Yep.
- 13. Who last slept in your bed besides you?
- Well, Megan was lying in it next to me last night when we watched movies but I don't remember the last time I slept next to someone. Probs Mia, but not lately.
- 14. What time did you wake up today?
- 9:30?
- 15. How long until your next birthday?
- 2 and a half months.
- 16. What was the last movie you watched?
- Juno. Last night. Before that we watched Orphan.
- 17. If you could see any musician live, front row, who would you choose?
- Darren Criss.
- 18. When did you last consume something that had peanut butter?
- This morning, with apple slices.
- 19. What’s the last song you heard?
- Skyscraper, Demi Lovato.
- 20. When you say you love someone, do you mean it?
- Yeppp.
- 21. Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow?
- Maybe a little.
- 22. Do you still talk to any of your ex’s?
- Not regularly.
- 23. As of this minute, what is going through your mind?
- Well, just dwelling on the last question, that I don't talk to any of my exes. I always find that a bit odd, as a concept. That as a society, we accept that it's totally normal to cut off all contact with the people we loved the most, once we decide we don't want to be in a romantic relationship anymore.
- 24. Where’s the last place you went?
- I drove to Bulli last night, to drop Megan home.
- 25. Have you held hands with anyone lately?
- Like, 3 weeks ago, yeah. I don't really like linking fingers though, I've always thought it wasn't as nice as regular holding hands but when I had a boyfriend he always did the linking fingers and other boys that have held my hand do it too.
- 26. Has anyone let you down recently?
- No...
- 27. Does it bother you when people try to make you jealous?
- If I don't care about them, I just laugh about it and the people I do care about don't try. If they do make me jealous unknowingly, I do get bothered though. I get jealous of my best friends close relationships with other girls. That makes me insecure. Boyfriends, yeah, whatever, I can't help them having that, but since I don't have one, they know for sure they're my closest peps, so they aren't allowed to have other best friends. Thems the rules.
- 28. Whats the next movie you want to see in theaters?
- Catching Fire!
- 29. Do you have more than $50 in your room?
- It's possible but I don't think so.
- 30. Are both of your blood parents still in your life?
- Ja.
- 31. Were you tired when you woke up this morning?
- Yeah, I mean, I woke up natural and everything, after at least 8 hours of sleep, but I still stumbled out of my room grunting and making weird mumbling sounds. How does mum put up with me? She says 'good morning lucy' and I just go 'ngggdhhhhnngg'.
- 32. Who is probably talking a load of crap about you right now?
- No one? The only person who is mad at me isn't the type to talk about it with anyone. I'm sure people do occasionally talk about me behind my back and there could be some bitching involved, but I don't think people are being malicious. Everybody talks about everybody, that's how people are.
- 33. When was the last time you went apple picking?
- Never. I went to the Big Banana and picked some bananas one time though.
- 34. Do you sometimes wake up in the morning, lay in bed and think about life?
- Nah, I just snuggle and try to stick in my dream for a bit.
- 35. Are you happy summer is coming soon?
- I do love Summer but it's coming a bit too fast for me.
- 36. Do you have drama in your life?
- Always the drama. Actually, not true. My life floats along like a boat in a kids abandoned paddling pool, no waves, just very chill.
Sunday, 22 September 2013
Sunday, 15 September 2013
Hey Hey You You, I wanna be your girlfriend...
So, I'm bi.
That isn't new. I've known it for like, 5 years now. It doesn't bother me at all, it's who I am/ born this way etc.
There is a tendency for people to not really take it seriously though, myself included.
I've never really considered dating a girl. I don't know why. Maybe it's societal pressure. Probably, being bi is great, I don't have to ever step off my comfort zone which is straight. Have I ever wanted to date a girl... well, once, the first girl. I actually told her this week, that I'd been into her once. And the whole, I'm bisexual thing and then she hugged me and said she was flattered and I was like, 'so you should be....ok you can stop hugging me now.'
It wasn't awkward which was important.
But I know I want to kiss girls and it's not just about titillating boys, I genuinely am attracted to girls. I think they're pretty and smart and pretty and nice and did I mention pretty? But generally though, there is a much lower level of want, like I don't ever consider it seriously that I could ever date a girl. I just can't get the idea through my head.
There's not blueprint for that. What would I tell my bffl? Would she still help me and tell me what to say and do and wear? Would I have to be the pursuer because let me tell you, I would make a sucky guy cos I don't want to do that. What would I tell my mother? Or anyone?
'Hey, this is my girlfriend?'
What would you even do with a girlfriend? I don't freaking know. Okay, that's a total lie, I do totally know but what if I don't want to have sex with girls? I mean, I don't know if I do, I haven't really thought about it. I've not really thought much about other vaginas.
I would totally try it, but there aren't all that many things I wouldn't try once.
Actually, you know what, a lesbian relationship could actually be what I need, I should get on that. It'd be nice. Less games. More indirectness probably but less ego.
But I don't know, there are lesbians and then there are lesbians. I'm not into 'butch' girls. I like pretty girls.
I'm not saying high heels and red lipstick but just a girl that likes girls... that you can't just look at and be like... yep, defs a lesbian. Not someone who wears vests and ties and has short hair. Not someone who would want to wear a suit if we got married.
Not someone who has 'gay' listed in the first three adjectives that describe themselves.
I don't know. Just some thoughts.
That isn't new. I've known it for like, 5 years now. It doesn't bother me at all, it's who I am/ born this way etc.
There is a tendency for people to not really take it seriously though, myself included.
I've never really considered dating a girl. I don't know why. Maybe it's societal pressure. Probably, being bi is great, I don't have to ever step off my comfort zone which is straight. Have I ever wanted to date a girl... well, once, the first girl. I actually told her this week, that I'd been into her once. And the whole, I'm bisexual thing and then she hugged me and said she was flattered and I was like, 'so you should be....ok you can stop hugging me now.'
It wasn't awkward which was important.
But I know I want to kiss girls and it's not just about titillating boys, I genuinely am attracted to girls. I think they're pretty and smart and pretty and nice and did I mention pretty? But generally though, there is a much lower level of want, like I don't ever consider it seriously that I could ever date a girl. I just can't get the idea through my head.
There's not blueprint for that. What would I tell my bffl? Would she still help me and tell me what to say and do and wear? Would I have to be the pursuer because let me tell you, I would make a sucky guy cos I don't want to do that. What would I tell my mother? Or anyone?
'Hey, this is my girlfriend?'
What would you even do with a girlfriend? I don't freaking know. Okay, that's a total lie, I do totally know but what if I don't want to have sex with girls? I mean, I don't know if I do, I haven't really thought about it. I've not really thought much about other vaginas.
I would totally try it, but there aren't all that many things I wouldn't try once.
Actually, you know what, a lesbian relationship could actually be what I need, I should get on that. It'd be nice. Less games. More indirectness probably but less ego.
But I don't know, there are lesbians and then there are lesbians. I'm not into 'butch' girls. I like pretty girls.
I'm not saying high heels and red lipstick but just a girl that likes girls... that you can't just look at and be like... yep, defs a lesbian. Not someone who wears vests and ties and has short hair. Not someone who would want to wear a suit if we got married.
Not someone who has 'gay' listed in the first three adjectives that describe themselves.
I don't know. Just some thoughts.
Friday, 13 September 2013
Love thyself and hate thyself... to thine own self be true
I'm reading a book called 'Biting Anorexia'. It's written by a girl from Sydney called Lucy that she wrote during her battle with anorexia and recovery. It's different because it was written during the process. That makes for quite a disordered read, but a much more honest one.
Sometimes I feel like screaming out that I need help, that I'm so crazy sad and messed up and out of control in my head, that I once tried to throw up and I binge so badly and how ashamed that makes me, and what if I'm bulimic? That sometimes I wish so fiercely to be thin, to have hollow bones and wide, protruding eyes and thin skin that I think I'd do anything for it?
Those desires do exist within me. And maybe once in a while they are about hating myself, but not like the girl in this book did, the way people with real, serious eating disorders do. I know I don't feel like that, I don't relate to it, for which I'm incredibly grateful. I don't want to disappear, I think I deserve to be here and be happy and I sing out loud every day, loud and unashamed and get wildly happy over hot sun on my skin and how loud and long did I laugh last night at basketball when my teammate went so hard for the ball that he crash landed so hilariously?
I've never had any dealings with depression. I've never had any kind of apathy that makes me simultaneously sad and dead inside. I have insecurity and sometimes that translates into negative feelings about my body, but I think my body takes a lot of the blame for things that aren't it's fault.
And I love my body sometimes. I always have. I used to love it more, that's all.
Right now I am at my lowest point in regards to how I see my body. It's rational to the extent that I am the biggest I've ever been, but I don't want to use 'rational' when I talk about hating my body.
I'm going to take serious steps towards feeling better about myself physically.
I don't think I'm going to document too much here. I get obsessed too easily and it's scary. I don't want to be the person obsessed with calories, guilty over eating an apple, ashamed over going a day without exercise. I don't want to get into a bulimic mindset because while I don't want to go there, part of me thinks, just a little, think what we could accomplish if I could get you that dedicated?
That's the worst bit. That fear that I could let that part win and I could end up so fucked up and struggling so badly and being so unhappy. Like Harry with the Horcrux in his scar, having something scary inside of you and not knowing if it is some malformation, some evil add on, or if that's truly you, deep down under and if you listen to it, you can uncover who you really are.
And it's so intensely personal and lonely, this struggle is. It's just me, dealing with the bad things in my head and that's hard. Weight and kilos and calories are just numbers that try to define it, to make it physical and tangible but it's just a cover.
So yes, I am trying to lose weight again.
Rationalising again, only I can't tell what's good logic and what's bad. Mum wants me slim so boys will want me, so I'm the best I can be, so I don't miss out on opportunity. Sometimes I see it as tough love, sometimes it makes me want to scream. She was the first person to tell me I needed to lose a few kilos, the first person who kickstarted me making a weight loss plan, who made me aware--
I want to feel good about my body, to slid my hands down my stomach and feel it flat, to the gap that used to be between my hip bone and my pajama shorts, to not see all the rolls when I get out of bed, for my jeans to fit properly again (and not my skinny jeans either- my normal ones).
I want all these abstract things so much. I want to skinny dip in the dark with someone, I want to kiss boys and girls and I want to be naked and be drunk and spin and laugh and be happy and confident. I want beautiful boys to chase me and touch them all over and wrap my legs around a pretty girl and kiss her in the ocean at 3am, my hands cupping her face and laughing against her skin.
It's not sexual, it's emotional. I want to bush walk alone up mountains and scream down the trees, in joy, in anger, in pure out-of-control adrenaline. I want to fly down the track with my hair whipping behind me, my legs pumping faster than the rest of me can keep up.
I want to really live, fast and hard and out there and emotionally.
I want more moments of ecstasy to balance out the tedium. I'm hoping living overseas is going to do that for me, but terrified it won't. And I am scared what I look like, what I feel like, how many kilograms I weigh will be the reason.
It's not half as important as I think it is, but then perhaps it is. Even if it's in my mind... if I go out with only a quarter the confidence, because I can't think about anything but how awful I feel in my dress, if I can't be myself because how could this girl I'm talking to be thinking of anything but how fat I am, if the boy is only kissing me cause I'm big and that must mean I'm easy...
I could go on forever.
I add more 'rational', only how much is just for the sake of agreeing with the disordered thinking...
I want to be fit, I want to be able to run around Exeter and join sports teams and be taken seriously and it's true, I would have more friends if I was skinny, and more boys would like me, it's just simple fact because so many more would talk to me, would consider it if I was normal weight, if I wasn't automatically in a special category called 'overweight'.
It leaves me mentally gasping, how vitally important being thin is, and fury at myself, for always forgetting, for letting it slip, for choosing to screw myself later.
I do this to feel good about myself but honestly, I don't either way. When I'm not losing weight, I feel helpless, out of control and ashamed, when I am losing weight badly, I bury my head in the sand, feelings of panic threatening to overwhelm... It's only when I am losing weight well that I breathe easier, and even then, it's only until it becomes my latest addiction, that I worry, not only about losing motivation, but deep in the back of my mind, about sinking deeper and losing myself.
That's why it always has to come back to me, away from weight loss. Like I said, it's never about my body, not really. That's not what self hate is. I don't really see my body. Out of everyone I know, I really see it the least. I see my hands and my fringe and if I look down I get a bit of an impression of my tits and my stomach and my feet but the rest? It's a moving impression in car doors, in shop windows, in security footage in petrol stations and it's done out of the corner of my eye, because I'm desperate to know but also terrified of what I'll see.
So as well as trying on moderation for size, I'm going to work on self love this next fifteen weeks before I leave.
I think that's really important.
Sometimes I feel like screaming out that I need help, that I'm so crazy sad and messed up and out of control in my head, that I once tried to throw up and I binge so badly and how ashamed that makes me, and what if I'm bulimic? That sometimes I wish so fiercely to be thin, to have hollow bones and wide, protruding eyes and thin skin that I think I'd do anything for it?
Those desires do exist within me. And maybe once in a while they are about hating myself, but not like the girl in this book did, the way people with real, serious eating disorders do. I know I don't feel like that, I don't relate to it, for which I'm incredibly grateful. I don't want to disappear, I think I deserve to be here and be happy and I sing out loud every day, loud and unashamed and get wildly happy over hot sun on my skin and how loud and long did I laugh last night at basketball when my teammate went so hard for the ball that he crash landed so hilariously?
I've never had any dealings with depression. I've never had any kind of apathy that makes me simultaneously sad and dead inside. I have insecurity and sometimes that translates into negative feelings about my body, but I think my body takes a lot of the blame for things that aren't it's fault.
And I love my body sometimes. I always have. I used to love it more, that's all.
Right now I am at my lowest point in regards to how I see my body. It's rational to the extent that I am the biggest I've ever been, but I don't want to use 'rational' when I talk about hating my body.
I'm going to take serious steps towards feeling better about myself physically.
I don't think I'm going to document too much here. I get obsessed too easily and it's scary. I don't want to be the person obsessed with calories, guilty over eating an apple, ashamed over going a day without exercise. I don't want to get into a bulimic mindset because while I don't want to go there, part of me thinks, just a little, think what we could accomplish if I could get you that dedicated?
That's the worst bit. That fear that I could let that part win and I could end up so fucked up and struggling so badly and being so unhappy. Like Harry with the Horcrux in his scar, having something scary inside of you and not knowing if it is some malformation, some evil add on, or if that's truly you, deep down under and if you listen to it, you can uncover who you really are.
And it's so intensely personal and lonely, this struggle is. It's just me, dealing with the bad things in my head and that's hard. Weight and kilos and calories are just numbers that try to define it, to make it physical and tangible but it's just a cover.
So yes, I am trying to lose weight again.
Rationalising again, only I can't tell what's good logic and what's bad. Mum wants me slim so boys will want me, so I'm the best I can be, so I don't miss out on opportunity. Sometimes I see it as tough love, sometimes it makes me want to scream. She was the first person to tell me I needed to lose a few kilos, the first person who kickstarted me making a weight loss plan, who made me aware--
I want to feel good about my body, to slid my hands down my stomach and feel it flat, to the gap that used to be between my hip bone and my pajama shorts, to not see all the rolls when I get out of bed, for my jeans to fit properly again (and not my skinny jeans either- my normal ones).
I want all these abstract things so much. I want to skinny dip in the dark with someone, I want to kiss boys and girls and I want to be naked and be drunk and spin and laugh and be happy and confident. I want beautiful boys to chase me and touch them all over and wrap my legs around a pretty girl and kiss her in the ocean at 3am, my hands cupping her face and laughing against her skin.
It's not sexual, it's emotional. I want to bush walk alone up mountains and scream down the trees, in joy, in anger, in pure out-of-control adrenaline. I want to fly down the track with my hair whipping behind me, my legs pumping faster than the rest of me can keep up.
I want to really live, fast and hard and out there and emotionally.
I want more moments of ecstasy to balance out the tedium. I'm hoping living overseas is going to do that for me, but terrified it won't. And I am scared what I look like, what I feel like, how many kilograms I weigh will be the reason.
It's not half as important as I think it is, but then perhaps it is. Even if it's in my mind... if I go out with only a quarter the confidence, because I can't think about anything but how awful I feel in my dress, if I can't be myself because how could this girl I'm talking to be thinking of anything but how fat I am, if the boy is only kissing me cause I'm big and that must mean I'm easy...
I could go on forever.
I add more 'rational', only how much is just for the sake of agreeing with the disordered thinking...
I want to be fit, I want to be able to run around Exeter and join sports teams and be taken seriously and it's true, I would have more friends if I was skinny, and more boys would like me, it's just simple fact because so many more would talk to me, would consider it if I was normal weight, if I wasn't automatically in a special category called 'overweight'.
It leaves me mentally gasping, how vitally important being thin is, and fury at myself, for always forgetting, for letting it slip, for choosing to screw myself later.
I do this to feel good about myself but honestly, I don't either way. When I'm not losing weight, I feel helpless, out of control and ashamed, when I am losing weight badly, I bury my head in the sand, feelings of panic threatening to overwhelm... It's only when I am losing weight well that I breathe easier, and even then, it's only until it becomes my latest addiction, that I worry, not only about losing motivation, but deep in the back of my mind, about sinking deeper and losing myself.
That's why it always has to come back to me, away from weight loss. Like I said, it's never about my body, not really. That's not what self hate is. I don't really see my body. Out of everyone I know, I really see it the least. I see my hands and my fringe and if I look down I get a bit of an impression of my tits and my stomach and my feet but the rest? It's a moving impression in car doors, in shop windows, in security footage in petrol stations and it's done out of the corner of my eye, because I'm desperate to know but also terrified of what I'll see.
So as well as trying on moderation for size, I'm going to work on self love this next fifteen weeks before I leave.
I think that's really important.
Monday, 2 September 2013
I had a lovely dinner out tonight with my netball team :)
We went to a pizza place and had garlic bread and greek salad and 4 large pizzas split between the ten of us, which was yummy. I was in the middle of the table which was great cos I got to be included in all the conversation. Everyone on the team is great and lovely to talk to so it's great seeing them outside of the netball context.
It's also really sad though, because this is the last year most of us will be together. I'm going to be overseas, one girl is moving to the Central Coast, another to Melbourne, others are just taking a year off, maybe forever, but it's very well deserved. Lots of us, myself included, have been playing for 10+ years.
I'm going to miss it like crazy but I still play indoor every week so that's something. Still, I'll miss coaching a lot, because I love my team and it's just a lot of fun, even if it is quite a commitment. Hopefully when I go overseas I can still play in some team because I love it so much and will be so sad to stop playing for that long.
We ended up going to San Churros afterwards. I am becoming such a regular there, I need to stop lol. It's so delish and convenient though. One of my best friends who works full time, it suits me to go there with her because it means we can have dinner at our own houses and just go out for a long dessert and chat. But since I've been there twice this week without her, I can't go there again for awhile.
Anyway, it's weird to think that I won't see some of those girls again, maybe ever. It's one of those weird things in life but it makes me sad. Some of them I may end up being besties with two years from now, you never know, but while that is just a possibility, it's 100% that some I won't ever see again. Facebook is good for that though. I like that I can still keep, not 'in touch' but know how they are going. I think that is what Facebook is best for. The people you don't go out of your way to know about but are glad that you do keep up with basic details.
We all exchanged hugs and whatnot, I even have a photo that just got uploaded.
So yeah, that was my night, just felt like updating mostly so the 'losing my virginity' post can kind of move down the list lol. There was a tad bit of oversharing in that post, though for the record, I could have said a lot worse things or been a lot more graphic so be grateful haha.
Actually, I mentioned it to the girl I'm closest to in the team (3rd from the left) cos a) it's a great story and b) she was out that night as well and I saw her there. And after she texted me, saying it was her favourite story from the night and we ended up texting and joking about it today which was nice, cos I could totally see myself being really good friends with this chick. I'm actually really comfortable with her and we get along really well.
We went to a pizza place and had garlic bread and greek salad and 4 large pizzas split between the ten of us, which was yummy. I was in the middle of the table which was great cos I got to be included in all the conversation. Everyone on the team is great and lovely to talk to so it's great seeing them outside of the netball context.
It's also really sad though, because this is the last year most of us will be together. I'm going to be overseas, one girl is moving to the Central Coast, another to Melbourne, others are just taking a year off, maybe forever, but it's very well deserved. Lots of us, myself included, have been playing for 10+ years.
I'm going to miss it like crazy but I still play indoor every week so that's something. Still, I'll miss coaching a lot, because I love my team and it's just a lot of fun, even if it is quite a commitment. Hopefully when I go overseas I can still play in some team because I love it so much and will be so sad to stop playing for that long.
We ended up going to San Churros afterwards. I am becoming such a regular there, I need to stop lol. It's so delish and convenient though. One of my best friends who works full time, it suits me to go there with her because it means we can have dinner at our own houses and just go out for a long dessert and chat. But since I've been there twice this week without her, I can't go there again for awhile.
Anyway, it's weird to think that I won't see some of those girls again, maybe ever. It's one of those weird things in life but it makes me sad. Some of them I may end up being besties with two years from now, you never know, but while that is just a possibility, it's 100% that some I won't ever see again. Facebook is good for that though. I like that I can still keep, not 'in touch' but know how they are going. I think that is what Facebook is best for. The people you don't go out of your way to know about but are glad that you do keep up with basic details.
We all exchanged hugs and whatnot, I even have a photo that just got uploaded.
So yeah, that was my night, just felt like updating mostly so the 'losing my virginity' post can kind of move down the list lol. There was a tad bit of oversharing in that post, though for the record, I could have said a lot worse things or been a lot more graphic so be grateful haha.
Actually, I mentioned it to the girl I'm closest to in the team (3rd from the left) cos a) it's a great story and b) she was out that night as well and I saw her there. And after she texted me, saying it was her favourite story from the night and we ended up texting and joking about it today which was nice, cos I could totally see myself being really good friends with this chick. I'm actually really comfortable with her and we get along really well.
Sunday, 1 September 2013
Wowwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeee: major tmi ahead
So I went out to the club tonight.
And I met someone.
And kissed them a lot.
And grinded and got felt up.
And they convinced me to go home with them.
Nothing illegitimate, he was a really nice guy and so good looking and sweet and cute and I wanted to.
He knew I was a virgin and I told him I didn't want to go all the way. He said, cool, up to you.
And I knew it was cray but he kept saying I wouldn't regret it and didn't I want to feel good? And I did, I did want to feel good, so bad. He was so hot and such a smooth talker and good kisser and I said yes.
I don't know why I wasn't scared of being raped or murdered or whatnot but I just went with my gut. I texted a friend to let them know where I was/ who I was with but mostly I was just trusting and probably stupid about it.
I wasn't drunk or anything, I only had four drinks and I was totally clear. He respected me and he seems like a really genuine guy.
Unfortunately he is only here for the night and maybe I'll see him again, maybe not but he was right that I don't regret it. I feel good.
Was the sex good? Some of it was, I don't know, some hurt. Holy shit, the amount of blood when we turned the lights on. I thought I must just be on my period but then I remembered the whole virgin thing and hey, apparently, even though my sex positive sources told me with stretching there shouldn't be blood, there was a lot of blood.
Other points of note, I thought dicks would be pretty awful but everything was clean and neat and didn't smell like feet so that was fine. I don't know if he came, I hope he did but....
I don;t know, I didn't. I half faked it I guess. It's hard to fake when you don't know what real looks like, but I wanted him to stop cos it was kinda painful after awhile.
But he was lovely and sweet and had a rocking body and walked me home holding hands.
I'll write more coherently tomorrow. I am in slight shock and pretty sure full of oxytocin.
------
All is still well the day after. We texted a few times, I was out all day, I talked to my cousin and Mia. I am sore, which is lame but nothing that the internet says is particularly unusual. Next time I'm with someone I'll just be more assertive and say going that hard/fast is painful and not particularly enjoyable. Like, the amount of blood on the sheets afterwards was cray. Also embarrassing. Though I don't know why I should feel bad for that, it's not my fault.
I don't regret anything, I'm still pleased about it all, though I do feel weird about it. Because now I'm like, am I a virgin, am I not? What does that mean for my self description? Is my self image now changed?
I feel like nothing should have changed but on the other hand, I feel like I've joined this special club and now I have this understanding of what other people have felt/done that's through first hand experience, as opposed to just reading books and listening to friends talk and that is satisfying and good.
Surprisingly, what I don't feel is like a slut, or like this story is something to be ashamed of. It's private sure, but this is my private blog and only a few irl friends read it so telling here is not a big deal and other people I'm sure I'll tell in time when I see them in person.
----
I was talking to my friend Corey about this whole deal and I was trying to explain something to him that I don't know if I really did justice.
The guy I did it with, Nathan, he's a very insignificant part of the story. Like when girls imagine their wedding day, there's not much thought about the groom, it's about the dress and the bridesmaids and the flowers and the cake... it's the day that's all about you.
I thought about it like that for the first time when I was reading a critique of Steven Moffat, who is quite a sexist douchebag, but basically he was like 'girls chase guys and try to get them to settle down since they're children, while men try to avoid the whole deal as long as possible', which is bull. And using the wedding example as he did, girls aren't thinking about who they're marrying, the groom doesn't matter. It's about wearing a pretty dress and being the centre of attention.
Boys get superheroes to imagine dressing up as and having cool costumes and long coats and being the dude in charge, that's the equivalent fantasy. In my opinion anyway. I'm slightly off topic.
What I mean is that for me, losing my virginity was a similar type event in that it was hella important, but not because of him. It's special because it's the first time I took my clothes off in front of someone and didn't feel at all self conscious, it's the first time I let someone touch areas that no one but me has before, it's the first time I made a major decision that affects my sexual life. It's the first time I got to see a dick in real life since puberty and feel that I could physically make someone else feel super good through my actions. It was the first time I got to try a bunch of kinks in action and it was the first time I've ever had to relate to someone in that way, when we aren't friends but we are doing this weird, fun thing together. It was the first time I got to laugh while I searched for my underwear and had someone walk me home after sleeping with them. It was the first time for a lot of things but I is the important word in all those sentences.
It's important because it's part of my development and experiences and it's significant to me, but his role in it was purely.... catalyst? Helping hand?
It don't think of it as this journey we took together, it's just my story, that he got to be part of for a tiny chapter. And I'm appreciative of him for it. Plus he taught me how to kiss better, like every second time I'd go to peck him, he'd lean back and make me glare at him for teasing me, until he told me, that's code for put your hand on my neck and pull me in. Which led to the realisation that I can do that too :P That was the best part really, he was such a nice kisser. Similar to you-know-who, it was just lazy and nice and natural and teasing and fun but positive, because you are sure the other person wants you back.
Shit, I really don't want to compare this to you-know-who but now I have and the rest of the connections are clear in my brain now. They were veryyyy similar. Not in looks, just in attitude. I had the same level of comfort with both of them. Like, I remember with you-know-who, things like, kissing against a door and the door not being fully closed so falling back against it and cracking up, before him swinging round to the wall behind us. It was that level of assertiveness that they both had, Nathan would always shrug his arms up to push mine back up to his shoulders, so they'd wrap more tightly around his neck. Things that make me confident. And when I'm confident, then I am much more likely to initiate. Like, with you know who, I remember sitting on his lap, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him while grinning super hard. I didn't feel nervous, I had total self assurance at that point. Same with Nathan.
Basically just proving that I really did know what I was on about with you-know-who, he was right for me in that sense. Like, other crushes I look back on and realise we were in no way compatible, but you know who and I were--at that point.
And for the record, I didn't think of you-know-who a single time that whole evening.
------
It's pretty ridiculous how little this whole thing ended up meaning. How little I care.
It makes me slightly happy to think about, but honestly, it's nothing.
I didn't expect that really, I thought it was in my DNA to overreact and overanalyse but it ended up being one of those things that didn't need overthinking.
Actually, the one thing that I do remember vividly, not from that night or anything, but from a week later was... well, I'll call it a pregnancy scare but since we didn't actually have sex and I was overreacting x1000000, it's not exactly the right term. Just because I'm stupid and don't know as much as I think I do, I was scared that it was possible that precome could have touched my lady parts and I don't know, got vacuumed up?
And the feeling of disgust towards this imaginary, hypothetical fetus was insane. It wasn't what I expected at all. I didn't expect to hate the thing.
I mean, I've always thought I was a pro choice supporter, but would never abort personally. But I think I was well on the way to changing my mind when I considered it for reals-ies. Well, relative reals-ies. Maybe if it was actually for real, my feelings would have swung back around to keep-the-baby but it was an interesting feeling, like my body had been invaded and the parasite inside me was growing off me and it was terrifying, truly. It's why my arguments for abortion always rest on body autonomy. Babies/ fetuses require a living person to grow and be born, but that isn't a right.
Women do have the right to take away consent. They don't have to choose to live with a blood and nutrient sucking parasite if they don't want to, and that right comes above the fetus's 'right to life'.
And I met someone.
And kissed them a lot.
And grinded and got felt up.
And they convinced me to go home with them.
Nothing illegitimate, he was a really nice guy and so good looking and sweet and cute and I wanted to.
He knew I was a virgin and I told him I didn't want to go all the way. He said, cool, up to you.
And I knew it was cray but he kept saying I wouldn't regret it and didn't I want to feel good? And I did, I did want to feel good, so bad. He was so hot and such a smooth talker and good kisser and I said yes.
I don't know why I wasn't scared of being raped or murdered or whatnot but I just went with my gut. I texted a friend to let them know where I was/ who I was with but mostly I was just trusting and probably stupid about it.
I wasn't drunk or anything, I only had four drinks and I was totally clear. He respected me and he seems like a really genuine guy.
Unfortunately he is only here for the night and maybe I'll see him again, maybe not but he was right that I don't regret it. I feel good.
Was the sex good? Some of it was, I don't know, some hurt. Holy shit, the amount of blood when we turned the lights on. I thought I must just be on my period but then I remembered the whole virgin thing and hey, apparently, even though my sex positive sources told me with stretching there shouldn't be blood, there was a lot of blood.
Other points of note, I thought dicks would be pretty awful but everything was clean and neat and didn't smell like feet so that was fine. I don't know if he came, I hope he did but....
I don;t know, I didn't. I half faked it I guess. It's hard to fake when you don't know what real looks like, but I wanted him to stop cos it was kinda painful after awhile.
But he was lovely and sweet and had a rocking body and walked me home holding hands.
I'll write more coherently tomorrow. I am in slight shock and pretty sure full of oxytocin.
------
All is still well the day after. We texted a few times, I was out all day, I talked to my cousin and Mia. I am sore, which is lame but nothing that the internet says is particularly unusual. Next time I'm with someone I'll just be more assertive and say going that hard/fast is painful and not particularly enjoyable. Like, the amount of blood on the sheets afterwards was cray. Also embarrassing. Though I don't know why I should feel bad for that, it's not my fault.
I don't regret anything, I'm still pleased about it all, though I do feel weird about it. Because now I'm like, am I a virgin, am I not? What does that mean for my self description? Is my self image now changed?
I feel like nothing should have changed but on the other hand, I feel like I've joined this special club and now I have this understanding of what other people have felt/done that's through first hand experience, as opposed to just reading books and listening to friends talk and that is satisfying and good.
Surprisingly, what I don't feel is like a slut, or like this story is something to be ashamed of. It's private sure, but this is my private blog and only a few irl friends read it so telling here is not a big deal and other people I'm sure I'll tell in time when I see them in person.
----
I was talking to my friend Corey about this whole deal and I was trying to explain something to him that I don't know if I really did justice.
The guy I did it with, Nathan, he's a very insignificant part of the story. Like when girls imagine their wedding day, there's not much thought about the groom, it's about the dress and the bridesmaids and the flowers and the cake... it's the day that's all about you.
I thought about it like that for the first time when I was reading a critique of Steven Moffat, who is quite a sexist douchebag, but basically he was like 'girls chase guys and try to get them to settle down since they're children, while men try to avoid the whole deal as long as possible', which is bull. And using the wedding example as he did, girls aren't thinking about who they're marrying, the groom doesn't matter. It's about wearing a pretty dress and being the centre of attention.
Boys get superheroes to imagine dressing up as and having cool costumes and long coats and being the dude in charge, that's the equivalent fantasy. In my opinion anyway. I'm slightly off topic.
What I mean is that for me, losing my virginity was a similar type event in that it was hella important, but not because of him. It's special because it's the first time I took my clothes off in front of someone and didn't feel at all self conscious, it's the first time I let someone touch areas that no one but me has before, it's the first time I made a major decision that affects my sexual life. It's the first time I got to see a dick in real life since puberty and feel that I could physically make someone else feel super good through my actions. It was the first time I got to try a bunch of kinks in action and it was the first time I've ever had to relate to someone in that way, when we aren't friends but we are doing this weird, fun thing together. It was the first time I got to laugh while I searched for my underwear and had someone walk me home after sleeping with them. It was the first time for a lot of things but I is the important word in all those sentences.
It's important because it's part of my development and experiences and it's significant to me, but his role in it was purely.... catalyst? Helping hand?
It don't think of it as this journey we took together, it's just my story, that he got to be part of for a tiny chapter. And I'm appreciative of him for it. Plus he taught me how to kiss better, like every second time I'd go to peck him, he'd lean back and make me glare at him for teasing me, until he told me, that's code for put your hand on my neck and pull me in. Which led to the realisation that I can do that too :P That was the best part really, he was such a nice kisser. Similar to you-know-who, it was just lazy and nice and natural and teasing and fun but positive, because you are sure the other person wants you back.
Shit, I really don't want to compare this to you-know-who but now I have and the rest of the connections are clear in my brain now. They were veryyyy similar. Not in looks, just in attitude. I had the same level of comfort with both of them. Like, I remember with you-know-who, things like, kissing against a door and the door not being fully closed so falling back against it and cracking up, before him swinging round to the wall behind us. It was that level of assertiveness that they both had, Nathan would always shrug his arms up to push mine back up to his shoulders, so they'd wrap more tightly around his neck. Things that make me confident. And when I'm confident, then I am much more likely to initiate. Like, with you know who, I remember sitting on his lap, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him while grinning super hard. I didn't feel nervous, I had total self assurance at that point. Same with Nathan.
Basically just proving that I really did know what I was on about with you-know-who, he was right for me in that sense. Like, other crushes I look back on and realise we were in no way compatible, but you know who and I were--at that point.
And for the record, I didn't think of you-know-who a single time that whole evening.
------
It's pretty ridiculous how little this whole thing ended up meaning. How little I care.
It makes me slightly happy to think about, but honestly, it's nothing.
I didn't expect that really, I thought it was in my DNA to overreact and overanalyse but it ended up being one of those things that didn't need overthinking.
Actually, the one thing that I do remember vividly, not from that night or anything, but from a week later was... well, I'll call it a pregnancy scare but since we didn't actually have sex and I was overreacting x1000000, it's not exactly the right term. Just because I'm stupid and don't know as much as I think I do, I was scared that it was possible that precome could have touched my lady parts and I don't know, got vacuumed up?
And the feeling of disgust towards this imaginary, hypothetical fetus was insane. It wasn't what I expected at all. I didn't expect to hate the thing.
I mean, I've always thought I was a pro choice supporter, but would never abort personally. But I think I was well on the way to changing my mind when I considered it for reals-ies. Well, relative reals-ies. Maybe if it was actually for real, my feelings would have swung back around to keep-the-baby but it was an interesting feeling, like my body had been invaded and the parasite inside me was growing off me and it was terrifying, truly. It's why my arguments for abortion always rest on body autonomy. Babies/ fetuses require a living person to grow and be born, but that isn't a right.
Women do have the right to take away consent. They don't have to choose to live with a blood and nutrient sucking parasite if they don't want to, and that right comes above the fetus's 'right to life'.
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