An Openness of Being Screwed.

I’ve always been quite an open person. Occasionally too much so at the constant dismay of my mother whom is worried that my openness often leads to be being hurt. Which maybe partly true but it’s kinda part of me. Anyway, I decided in this blog I will be as open as I possibly can so I am giving fair warning that their will be at times where it is a major TMI. Now my openness has extended for as long as I remember, I wasn’t normally one to keep my thoughts and opinions to myself and would often voice them much to the dismay of others and I willingly admit it properly has gotten me into trouble now an again.

However, in case this post isn’t as obvious from the title (I’m attempting to be creative in title selection), this post draws a little to the line of sex and sexual activity. Sex it’s kinda always been an open topic for half the family (Mum’s half more than Dad’s), not only did I receive the old birds and the bees talk from dear mother but also several aunts, cousins and even my 80 odd year old Grandfather. Basically sex and the whole topic surrounding it has been quite open to me as I have grown up which has lead to my decision to be quite open on this blog too. Partially I am also inspired by Grace Latter and the openness she shows on her blog but also by Hannah Witton who just published a book all about sex and sexual relations called ‘Doing it’.

After all it’s one of the most natural parts about being human. Many would properly assume that a girl who talks openly about sex wouldn’t be at all apprehensive about actually having sex. Yet I am, unfortunately I had an encounter when I was young which lead me to be very apprehensive around the opposite gender; males. As a result of this, and studying sexually transmitted diseases for almost 3 years, I was apprehensive about getting physical with anyone. I found it quite hard to interact with the opposite gender and only had my first real kiss at 18 because I often held firm a wall to keep those potential romantic encounters away.
Now here the juicy gossip I suppose, where I talk about my virginity (or lack of now I suppose). I dated a guy for 8 months, thought I fallen completely head over heels with him. Peculiar despite being very attracted to this guy something often came to pass and we never really managed to get down to business. Most frequently each time we were intimate an unexpected monthly arrival would appear  (I am on the injection so normally no period arrives). Finally I gave in and we ‘did the deed’. The use of quotations is more to highlight my sarcasm of the fact since the act was never even completed, instead my partner of choice decided to shove it in and cause it to be so painful that I begged to stop. Week later I was single, it’s likely to say the bad sex and break up were unrelated, though I can’t be sure as the reason for the break up was never actually explained.

Now your properly wondering what the whole point of this blog post actually is, but does it really need a point? Maybe I need this release and acknowledge the irony which is presenting itself at the loss of my virginity at 19. Maybe the unexpected periods were a sign from above at the relationship upcoming demise. But I think writing this is more of an acceptance. Accepting that yes my first time kinda sucked, especially after giving a pity blow job as an apology and being told I could finish myself off when he’d gone home. However, I don’t really care about that because even though in hindsight the relationship wasn’t as bless as I thought it had been, it meant that I learnt that I can let my guard down, that I can trust and finally be intimate with the opposite sex.

My first time sucked but it doesn’t mean that the next time will be. Oh and surprise surprise since the break up, these monthly arrivals have now permanently stopped. Perhaps my periods were a warning? I feel now my own body is mocking me…


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