Another 'story installment'. Yes, it's been awhile. For some reason, this chapter pains me to share a bit more than the others. I can only assume that is because I can't just say that someone else did something 'to' me. This is where I have to begin to take responsibility for my own choices.
When I began dating Jon, my dad evidently became concerned that I might become pregnant. And so, he did what he thought was the responsible thing to do and suggested I get started on the pill. I remember thinking how very cool and 'forward thinking' my father was to suggest such a thing.
His reasoning was, of course, that I was 'going to do it anyway' so I may as well avoid an unwanted pregnancy. Funny, he never mentioned the use of condems......
So, in my young mind, that meant I needed to start considering how I might make use of this new opportunity.
Now, what I knew about sex had come from what my sister had told me, what I'd giggled about with friends, what I'd seen in the various bits of pornography I'd been exposed to at the neighbor's house and what I'd seen in various movies (which if you recall the 80's, was quite a lot). Still, my views were fragmented and unrealistic at best.
However, armed with a month's worth of contreceptives in my system and the well-intended (I guess) advice of my father, I offered myself to Jon.
I honestly can't recall how it all went down but I can only assume that we discussed it in some capacity because he had arranged to have the shared dorm bedroom to himself for a period while the other guys lounged in the living area drinking beer and watching sports.
What I do recall is that Jon felt the need to ask me if he should be expecting a mess after we indulged ourselves. I can remember that in my mind, I went over the various sexual encounters I had had and decided that there was no way that my hymen could still be intact. I can actually still see in my minds eye what I was thinking. Having gone over past events, I lovingly reassured Jon that there was nothing to worry about.
The reality was that I really had no idea. I didn't know enough about my body. I hadn't asked the doctor when I'd gotten my prescription and they had volunteered nothing and so I really didn't know what I was talking about.
All that I wanted was to be loved and from what I'd gathered from the world around me, this was how I could be loved. Jon had told me he loved me by this time. He'd told me many times. I believed him. He was very kind and caring and an upstanding young student and I felt good about the whole thing.
And so passion ensued. When it was over, there was a very large red stain on my loving boyfriend's dorm room bed. And my loving boyfriend was furious with me. He yelled, he rushed into the bathroom to try to clean up 'the mess'. He ranted about how I had lied to him and why didn't I just tell him the truth. He was in a rage.
And I was utterly and completely humiliated. Ashamed.
Jon hurried me through the living room and out to his car and drove me home in silence. Within the week, he broke up with me, sighting the fact that he really didn't have time for a relationship, that he didn't really love me and that I lived to far away for him to be driving back and forth all the time.
It was over and I was crushed. I'd given myself and gotten nothing in return.
Now, I am far from the first girl to have experienced this particular type of devastation. In fact, it's all too common for a girl to be used sexually by a man who claims to love her, only for him to find that once he's gone there, he doesn't want her any more. I can't explain why this happens. I assume there is something going on in the mind of those men that is similar to many many others, but I couldn't begin to tell you what it is.
But one thing I can tell you is that this particular brand of rejection hits a woman at her deepest core. It's a rejection that begins to infect every aspect of how she sees herself. It's like a cancer, only it doesn't kill, it just debilitates.
I didn't know all of that then. It wasn't long before I put on an armor coat of anger and a desire to hurt him back. I tucked the pain as far away as I could and only in recent years has that particular bit of pain resurfaced so that it could be examined.
Instead, I set out to show Jon that I was indeed a very desireable woman. I would show him and he'd regret his decision.