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I., 58 | DO TELL

I grew up as a Mormon; I was taught sexual acts—on a scale of bad to good—were ranked next to murder. I grew up with that guilt and ever-present shame. To be frank, at the ripe, old age of 12, I knew a lot about sex despite never having actually participated in the act. I was interested in trying it out, but I was really confused about what I really wanted to get out of it or who I wanted to try it out with.

For example, I remember having a wet dream about my best girl friend, and the next time I was around her wanting to kiss her. She was my first crush. Of course I never told her that, though. We made out a few times. I was really afraid of being used and then disposed of, which is odd for a year-old to be processing those types of things. I heard how boys would talk about the girls that they slept with. So instead, I would just make out hot and heavy, and then, when alone, masturbate furiously to release all my pent up sexual tension. I shrugged my same-sex attraction off and reasoned that it stemmed from the sexual abuse that occurred when I was young while in foster care, or maybe it was because of my poor relationship with my mother.

Whatever the reason, I convinced myself I was not bisexual. At age 13, I had had oral sex with two guys and one girl all separate incidents—maybe I was bisexual? I frequently had sexual dreams about both sexes, but by then, I had moved to a very religious foster home and adopted their views on sexuality. I was abstinent from age , when I got married. Still never having had actual intercourse, my wedding night was terrible. I got divorced five years later and have had one female partner and one male partner since.

Say you were attracted to a woman. How terrible would it be if you never did anything about that because you were afraid it came from a dark, traumatic experience from your childhood? You could be missing out on love. The people who hurt you would hurt you again by holding you back from something beautiful. Does it really matter why you feel this? Will knowing why you feel attracted to women make the feeling go away?

Just let yourself feel.

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Sexuality is a spectrum. When I first started getting periods they made me feel… sexy. I would sit on the couch with a heating pad and cramps biting at my inside, feeling regal in my pain. I imagined boys from school I had crushes on asking me in awe what having a period felt like, looking at me in admiration as I described what I had to endure.

The first sexual experience I had was actually during a period. While being away during the summer, I had a resolve that I would actually practice some female agency and fully own my sexuality, or at the very least actually explore it. When we started hooking up more regularly, I hoped to keep things casual. This last year I lived in Spain. Eventually I met a rich attorney. He gave me a lot of coke. I was 22 and he was maybe 55 or The first few times we had sex I was coked out of my mind.

I kept getting up to go on the porch and smoke cigarettes and then pacing around the hallways because I had too much energy. Eventually we ended up in a hotel room after a date. We drank and took line after line. Initially I felt horribly anxious about the situation. I knew it was all wrong and I was disgusted.

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I kept doing the coke anyways and eventually just said fuck it and started humping his leg. The sensation makes every hair on my body stand up. I squirted all over him for hours and eventually he fucked me from behind as I watched our reflection in window of that beautifully furnished hotel room.

It lasted three hours. Three hours of orgasm after orgasm. Afterward, he gave me a couple hundred euros. I was 14 years old when I lost my virginity.

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I was a freshman in high school. I was so confused about so many things at this time in my life, especially how I felt about sex. I knew he liked me, and I secretly thought he was cute. I told one of his friends, V. I received a text message from V. However, I was OK with it.

I met up with D.

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We ended up walking to a local park. At the park there was a shed that was unlocked. Nobody else was there except us, so D. The sex was awkward. I felt really nervous being naked in front of D. I slowly took off my clothes and gave him a blowjob. I had no idea if I was doing this right or if he liked it. After a while, I got on top of him and we had sex. After five minutes, the condom came off, so we stopped. When we got out of the shed, V. He asked us what happened, so I told him because he was my friend and I thought I could trust him.

People said so many nasty things about me. I knew I was ready, and looking back, I still think I was. The only part that I do regret was people finding out. Recently, I was out with my friends. I was excited as we took a cab to the house some hours later. The guys also harassed me. I remember them circling around me in a garage and yelling at me. I felt fear instead anger, and I still have trouble being mad about it. I remember them standing over me as I kneeled, jeering at me as they made me show them my boobs.

I remember one of them picking me up by my elbow and pulling me behind one of the cars and undoing his pants. I remember him being annoyed that I was crying as he pushed his dick in my mouth. Eventually, he got fed up and left the garage, turning out the lights as he went. I stayed in the dark crying. I have passed groups of 15 men, who might call out but never have made moves touch me. Which is why I was surprised when a man last night around 7 P. It was an aggressive slap that pushed me forward. But I was also surprised that for the last 12 hours, I cannot stop thinking about it, and finally I connected the feeling.

The feeling of being violated. The feeling of fear instead of anger that I never expected to feel. I have felt the most happy sexually when I have been in love with a new guy. The passion, the heavy breathing, the foreplay, the warmth, the excitement.

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I only did it for years to keep the relationship close. But it is not fair.

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