If it doesn't honor me......sex

I grew up a conservative Christian, fully believing in "saving yourself" for marriage. Hearing plenty of metaphors, comparing sexual women to half eaten apples and chewed gum. Who would want that right? Thanks purity culture. After I moved out of my parents house and began my independent life, my beliefs started to shift. And after I had my first boyfriend (at 21) and my first kiss (again 21) I started to feel.....the urge, and my beliefs shifted even quicker! 

I remember the loss of my ever so coveted virginity incredibly well. I loved this boy, and I was horny beyond belief, perfect combination. So in the last night of my semester in college, in my half packed dorm room, my cherry was plucked. The grace of it all was that he was a virgin to, so our obvious fumbling inexperienced selves went unnoticed to each other. When I layed back on my twin sized mattress my first thought to go through my head was "that's it!?" The one thing that was talk of so highly, placed on this pedestal for me, my gift to never give up......that was it? I couldn't help but giggle, and continue to think, "well I cant wait to do that again." 

Some years down the road though, I learned that I was not the only woman my boyfriend looked at in that way, spoke to in that way, wanted in that way. My heart shattered and my world crashed. As we ended our years together in a colossal fight, the only thing I wanted to do was have someone look at me that way again. So I had met another boy that night, and I let him inside of me as my ex had been before. My count is now two, and I felt disgusting. Sticky notes of the word "whore" were plastered around my apartment after my ex had found out, him saying that someone else had touched me and that I would now feel tainted to him. This was the beginning of my absolute decent into equating worth and sex. 

I now searched for, pined for, in absolute desperation for some form of validation that I was pretty, interesting, worthy.....I found that having sex with people was a quick fix to this hole inside of me (no pun intended.) I'd lie to myself and tell myself I was having fun, sexually liberated, independent. But every walk back home, my feelings of elation would dissipate and shame would come. And I'd tell myself over and over again, I dont need someone to make me feel worthy, but the compliments from drunk boys that I was a pretty girl always seemed to unhook my bra and this cycle continued. 

I then met another boy, and this boy made me feel incredible, until he didn't. I learned years down the road with being with this boy that he was a narcissist, and he knew all my triggers and knew the deepest ways to hurt me. A traumatic event (which may be a blog post all on it's own one day) caused our break up, and this boy who I loved unbearably, spit fire at me. I was convinced that still having sex with him would make him want to get back together, so we would still have sex on occasion. One day, we were in our bedroom (although technically only my room now) and he was getting undressed as his hands were undoing his pants, he asked if I wanted to have sex, elated I said "of course" because maybe he would tell me he loved me again....but instead as he continued to unbutton his pants he looked at me and said "I want you to know this means nothing to me, you are no different than a whore off the street, you're just a vessel to cum in." And I layed back on the bed, and he never told me he loved me again. 

At this point something broke inside of me. These words ran over and over and over again in my head. I was just a vessel to cum in. And for a while, I was. I was desperate even if for just a short time, to be valued by someone, even if it was just so they had a place to cum. I could know that at least for a little while, I was worthy of something. 

I would let people degrade me, hurt me, shame me....because to me, there was no difference, I hate myself, they might as well too, I'll call it "kinky" and be the fun girl. Fun fact, I dont actually get turned on by being hit, I just feel like I almost deserve it. A bruise for a whore my brain would tell me, disgusting. And the self hated darkened. 

I came to a point though, were I was genuinely attracted and liked this person, and they genuinely liked me back. But I couldn't have sex with them. It was almost like I was a virgin again, fumbling and silly.....because I had lost my ability to mix emotions with sex. I had lost my intimacy. This frightened me. For so long I had just been having degrading or drunk sex, I forgot what sober loving sex was like. This threw me off my game. 

This brought me to the point that I needed, to look into myself, to examine and pull apart. If it doesn't honor me....I dont desire it, and this now includes sex. I do not wish anymore to continue to damage my intimacy with my own sexual being because I crave validation so deeply. I need to value myself, not get value by someone who bruises my tits and then tell me they have to work in the morning. I recognize my needs and wants as a sexual being, I love sex, I just need to have sex in a healthy way, an honoring way. 

I have worth in my being, not just worth between my legs. I honor myself by loving myself. I find power in having my own autonomy over who I give my body to. I again, still love casual sex, but it comes from a healthy place now, not of hatred and self destruction.  I honor myself.