30 Day Challenge: Driver, Roll up the partition please… (aka a ridiculously long post of my sexual history that amounts to a whole bunch of nothing)

6. Let’s talk about sex. From kinks to fantasies to fun things you want to share. Don’t worry about sharing anything you don’t want to be public knowledge, just allow yourself to tap into your dirtier side for a bit.

So, today’s topic was chosen by me mostly because Kristi and I wanted to find a topic to make Maggie uncomfortable. After reading Maggie’s post, I assume we were successful. However, after reading Kristi’s post and now that I’m thinking about my post, I don’t think we realized how awkward/weird/uncomfortable we’d be talking about this in front of people we do and do not know.

However, I am nothing if not committed so I’m gonna jump right in, share too much detail of the the completely PG rating, and solidify my place as romantically doomed.

Let’s start with this fact: I’m still a virgin. And yes, I have heard the ‘on your way to being a 40 year old virgin’ comments. I don’t really care about them. I am a virgin in every possible way except kissing and even there, I’m pretty inexperienced. This is going to get a bit longer than usual so let’s just add a ‘more’ tag right here.

I’ve really dated all of one person in my life. I was 14, he was 17, we dated for maybe 2 months. Kissing him was like kissing my brother. He and I are still really good friends, despite having not seen each other since I was 15, and I’m even close with his wife.

Later that year, I met a friend of a friend who I was ‘talking to’ (before that term even existed) and who I thought was more serious about me than I was about him. He was the first guy with whom I ever made out, which happened once when I lied to my mom and my friend and I went to see him instead of going to a movie. He still, occasionally, will find me on Facebook and try to convince me to have sex with him.

That same year, I got my tongue pierced (because I was going through a rebellious phase) and a then-friend, now-non-entity who was trying to date my best friend at the time tried to talk me into giving him head behind the grocery store next to our high school.

Also that year, another then-friend, now-non-entity spent months trying to prove how good of a friend he was to me only to get me to sleep with him. When I turned him down, he stopped talking to me entirely.

I guess 14 was a big year for me.

I list these romantic misadventures to show that, during the age in which most girls my age where losing their virginities, I wasn’t without chances. The problem was that none of these chances where the person with whom I wanted to have sex. You see, right before my 14th birthday, a friend introduced me to a guy with whom I got close. We talked almost every day online (back when MSN messenger was a thing). He knew and accepted everything about me and like any 14 year old, I fell head-over-rational-thought in love with him and stayed that way for longer than is psychologically sound.

The problem is he was just shy of five years older than me (almost 19 to my 14) and joining the military that fall. For anyone unaware with the military rules of consent, both parties must be over 18 years old and (I now realize) he used that as an excuse to not date me. Like any ridiculously devoted teenager, I figured we’d stay friends and maybe date when I was older. Then shit got a little crazy. He slept with a friend who was a few weeks older than me, he tried to hook up with another friend, he basically kept screwing me over. When he left for boot camp, we practically weren’t speaking until he came to visit me during lunch to say goodbye and basically convinced me to write him while he was away. We rebuilt our friendship during those few months, and when he came back he told me how much he missed me and how much he didn’t care about the rules as long as he could still be in my life.

And that’s basically how my life went for the next few years.

We’d be great, then he’d do something stupid like sleep with a friend of mine or call me drunk, telling me how much he needed me, only to take it all back the next day, and we’d fight and stop talking. And I always went back to him because I was ‘in love’ with him and he ‘promised he would change’ and I didn’t think I could do better than him.

I finally, kind of, figured out how fucked up the whole thing was after my 18th birthday, the promised timeline of sorts when it’d be legal for us to be together, and I cut him out of my life. I can’t remember all the details about how we came back together. Actually, no, I can.

I was talking to this guy I met at work. A marine (did I mention I’m from a military town?) who flirted with me at work and I found on MySpace (because this was 2009) who was being deployed to Afganistan. He was married but ‘getting divorced’ (yeah, that was a lie). He was looking for a house and wanted me to move in with him. He sent me $200 flowers for my birthday. I had gotten us a dog (a pit-lab mix named Ares because we were both Mythology nerds).


Anyways, he was supposed to come home July 4th. I had to work but he was coming to see me at work. We’d talked the night before about how he was planning to show up and do something ridiculously romantic like kiss me in front of the whole store and all that crap. He never showed but did text me a pic of him eating dinner with his family, who he hadn’t seen in almost a year, and said they wouldn’t let him out of their sights. I understood that. We were the same way with my brother when he came home.

The next day, we made plans to hang out and about an hour or so before he was supposed to pick me up, I got a phone call from his ‘ex-wife’ saying that she knew everything and calling me a whore for messing with a married man and yada yada. She threatened to go to my job and get me fired, as well as other threats like coming to my house and such since she’d found all of my information by going through his emails and bags and stuff. I called him, he said she’d just found out and that he was dealing with it. I told him that I maybe we needed to chill out for a while and to call me when he got it figured out, thinking it’d be a few days, two weeks tops.

I never heard back until a few months later when a friend of mine stumbled upon his page and found out they were expecting a baby. Lo and behold, they had a baby in April of the following year, exactly 9 months after he’d come home.

How does all of this crap relate back to the first guy? Well, a mutual friend of ours knew about this situation. Her boyfriend was in the same company as the guy that was over seas. She told him what was going on and he got in touch with me to see if I was okay. We become close again before he deployed for his own tour in Afganistan. While he was gone, we talked regularly via email or Yahoo Video Chat (this was pre-skype).


It wasn’t really romantic. But we were close again. We hung out again when he came home until he got drunk one night, told me he loved me and wanted to be with me, then what do you think? Took it all back. Should have been the last straw, right? I mean, this was 2010 by this point. 6 years of this back-and-forth crap.

Nope. We got close again in 2011, before I went away to school. To be honest, I probably missed him and sought him out. That happened more times than I’d like to admit, even now. All strictly platonic… until early 2012. He came up to a party at my apartment. All of my roommates went out clubbing but he stayed in with me because I’d recently had a back injury and didn’t want to risk going to the bars. We drank quite a bit, smoked some weed (which, I learned that night, makes me black out when combined with a lot of alcohol), and ended up making out in my bed, off and on for 4 hours or so. He tried to convince me to do other things, specifically give him a hand job, but I was sober enough to know that wasn’t a good idea considering how drunk we both were.

I knew nothing would come of it. He’d just gotten out of a relationship. I was living almost 2 hours away. But that didn’t stop me for giving him all kinds of shit for getting drunk and doing stuff with me. “how’s it feel to know you were the last person I kissed?” Sending him mildly sexual photos like when one of my roommates and I were shotgunning hookah (looks like we’re kissing, if you’re unaware). Basically, just being an ass.

It was all fun and games until he came back to our end-of-semester party. I made a joke that someone was going to be making out with me that night. Apparently, that was the end for him because he got stupid drunk and drove off somewhere. Damn right? So against making out with me that he DROVE DRUNK to get away from me. He called me when he got back home the next day but I was done. I was pissed because he left, I was pissed because he drove drunk, and I was pissed because he didn’t let me know he was safe until over 12 hours later. I went off on him and we had a pretty bad fight. We didn’t stop talking but our relationship was strained.

Eventually, he just stopped responding to me. I’d text him and he wouldn’t answer. I’d try to message him on facebook, no response. So I gave up August 2012.

I saw him again a year later, August 2013. I was visiting my old job before I came back to school and he was in there shopping. I tried to get out of there without confrontation. I let him leave before me, hoping he’d be gone by the time I walked to my car. That was my first mistake. He was waiting by his car for me to come out and called my name as I was walking to my car.

Now, this is probably my proudest moment up to my graduation so excuse me if I go into too much detail.

I turned around and rolled my eyes. He said “hey Brit.” I looked him square in the face, said “Oh, so now I’m supposed to know who you are?” and walked away. He tried to say something but I didn’t care. I got in my car and drove off. He ended up having to follow me all the way until I turned off to go home.

So what does this real-life-embodiment of a Taylor Swift song have to do with sex?

He’s one of biggest reasons I’ve never had it. In part, it was because I was waiting for him. It also has to do with the part of my brain that decided that if he didn’t want me, someone who’d told me they loved me and needed me, then why would anyone else? I spent so much of my formative relationship years pining after him that I’m basically stunted.

I’ve kissed three guys in my entire life. I’ve only had one relationship and I dumped him because I couldn’t pretend he was the person I wanted to be with anymore. At this point, I’m terrified I’ll never find someone who’s willing to put up with my baggage.

I guess I should have talked about a lot of this during the ‘true love’ post. It applies more here though because if there’s something I’ve learned through all of this, I never really loved him. I loved him as much as you can love an idea of a person, as much as you can love the scraps of affection that are thrown your way in your darkest times.

I know now that he was using me. I made him feel better about himself. I was a devoted puppy who would shower him with affection and praise until he got tired of me and could put me back in my cage. I just hate that it took me so long to figure it out. 9 years of what is essentially a form of emotional abuse because I honestly thought I couldn’t do better, didn’t deserve better (something that, again, gets discussed in more detail during day 12).

So I’m a virgin and I’m truly terrified that will never change. That’s my story. Sorry it wasn’t as raunchy as the prompt should have been.

One thought on “30 Day Challenge: Driver, Roll up the partition please… (aka a ridiculously long post of my sexual history that amounts to a whole bunch of nothing)

  1. Pingback: With the kissing and the sexing and that thing with the romance, yeah, that. | Brit with a Blog

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