Hey guys! So if you’re a new reader, I’m writing an article series on my “love life” starting from my early adolescence up to my more mature years. Now in the last article, we discussed Jordan, my very first encounter with a f*ckboy. Jordan was the first boy I had ever been really interested in… it turned out to be a disaster. But, if you would like to read more, feel free to check out the first article here, in order to get a full grasp of the series!
Next, let’s get into Dylan. I met Dylan a little less than a year after I ended things with Jordan. (a mess) He became my first real boyfriend and let me just say, this relationship was bound to fail because it was built on lies. I guess the end result was my karma. I lied to this boy about my age throughout the ENTIRE relationship, now that I’m older I feel bad about it because I definitely wouldn’t want anyone doing that to me but, you live and you learn right? Dylan was one of the sweetest boys I’ve ever met, he was affectionate, expressed himself and was great at communication. Dylan taught me to speak up when I felt uncomfortable or if something was bothering me, he introduced me to the concepts of communication and vulnerability, rather than having this built up anger/irritation which would lead to an explosive argument. This relationship was definitely a trial run and it still amazes me to this day that I really believed I was in love.
Like my previous encounter, this relationship ended in a complete disaster. Dylan and I had been together for around 4-5 months and I thought I was ready to have sex. I think deep down, I knew I wasn’t ready to allow myself to be that open with a person, but everyone else around me talked about it. Not only did they talk about it but about how amazing it was so I, of course, being the curious teen that I decided it was time to figure out what all the hype was about. To make a long story short, I took a two hour, anxiety-ridden, train/bus ride to Brooklyn to lose my virginity. The previous night was spent removing every hair off my body and drinking fruit water to “cleanse” my body of any funky toxins. Ridiculous.
I spent the entire bus ride trying to convince myself that I was completely ready to let go and allow this person to have a piece of me that no one else had. I should have paid attention to the warning signs that my body was giving me on the way there. My palms were cold and clammy, and rather than having the beautiful feelings of butterflies in my stomach, I felt like it was going to fall out my ass. Nevertheless, I pushed through and ignored my instincts. Obviously, this isn’t the first time that I had been to his house but for some reason, during this visit, my anxiety was on 1000.
Dylan tried his best to make me comfortable and if I’m being honest I don’t think he even really noticed that I was uncomfortable. After I had been there for around 30-45 minutes things finally started to move along. I was being touched in ways that I had never been touched before and I didn’t know how to feel about it, time seemed to accelerate and next thing I knew my clothes were off and Dylan was sliding a condom on. There were a million thoughts running through my mind, one of them being “do I really want to do this?”. I didn’t want to do it but I didn’t exactly know how to say no, luckily for me my body did the talking for me.
I wasn’t mentally prepared to lose my virginity so my body was tense and everything, everything clenched up. He wasn’t as disappointed as I thought he would be, which led me to think that he really did love me. Less than a couple of weeks later I found out that right before I was about to lose my virginity to him, he had sex with someone else… and guess what his reasoning was? “You were taking too long”. Of all the things that he could have possibly blamed, he blamed me. I had never felt so violated because while I didn’t have sex with him he still saw me in ways no other person had seen me. I guess in the end it was a blessing in disguise.