by Anonymous – Follow @BrownGirlMag
Three years ago, if you asked me what I thought about sex, I would have told you this: “I want to wait for the right person and share that with the person I marry.” Now three years later, even as I’m writing this, my stance hasn’t changed. I’m not married yet, but even so, what I didn’t want to happen…already happened. If you ask me how I feel now, the truth is, I don’t know what to feel. Maybe there’s nothing left for me to feel because that ‘thing’ made me feel more things than I wanted to feel in these three years.
I’ll go ahead and say it. My ‘first time’ wasn’t consensual. I didn’t want it then. And even still, I don’t want it to happen again until I’m married to the one.
Many of you are probably wondering why I’m so uptight about it. People have sex casually all the time. Like, it’s the 21st century, get over yourself, right? And I mean, I’ve seen it happen ‘casually.’ Don’t lie; you know you’ve seen it too. Every South Asian dance competition after-party you’ve been to, you know damn well you’ve seen some couples, whether they were dating or not, mashed up against a wall acting like Bollywood actors Emraan Hashmi and Mallika Sherawat. And does anyone care? Of course not. It’s nothing. But I guess I was, and still am, one of those rare, old-fashioned weirdos who never wanted something ‘casual.’ I wanted something real. I still want something real.
Three years ago, I met a guy. He was funny, sweet, smart…and yeah, I fell for him. We didn’t live anywhere near each other, but that didn’t stop anything. I would constantly be FaceTiming, Snapchatting, or texting him. And it seemed like he had all his attention focused on me. I guess that’s one of the things that come with being attracted to someone. You like to believe that all their attention is focused on you. You like to believe that nothing is wrong with them, and if anything, something is actually wrong with you.
Honestly, I think that’s a really huge distinction between real love and simple attraction. When you love someone, you do see flaws, and you don’t believe that something is wrong with you because your partner reassures you that you’re amazing exactly how you are. And even if you aren’t, it’s something you and your partner work through together. Love is a force that accepts; attraction is inevitably a force that changes.
[Read Related: #BrownGirlsTalkSex: I Lost My Virginity to the Wrong One for Me]
But anyways, back to the story. So, because of the fact we went to different schools, we didn’t get to see each other. A few months after we had started talking and were quite close, I found out that the dance team I was on was scheduled to perform in his home state. Excitedly, I rushed to tell him that I’d be visiting and that it would be awesome if we could see each other. With the same excitement I had, he happily agreed to see me there.
Fast forward to the day I left school to travel to the dance competition:
So on the way to our hotel, the car I was in with some of my team members got into a car accident. We were on a narrow road, the person driving was speeding and texting at the same time, and we got swept into a ditch on the side of a country road. It was scary, to say the least. My phone was dead by that time, and I had no way of letting anyone know about what happened. Thankfully, after much careful driving and hours of patience, we made it to our hotel. I helped unload luggage and wheeled it into the lobby of the hotel, while everyone else got their stuff. I sat down exhausted and decided to charge my phone a bit since it was still dead. The next time I looked up, he was there.
He was standing in the lobby, looking for someone. When his eyes finally fell on me, he ran right to me and immediately picked me up in his arms, saying things like, “You okay? Where have you been? I’ve been so worried, etc.” I was caught off guard, but happy to see that he was so concerned. It’s important to mention that, until this point, no one knew we were talking to each other. But because of how things worked out, everyone had aggregated in the lobby just in time to see our exchange. For a small second, however, my relief of seeing him turned to slight suspicion. I hadn’t told him where I was staying, or at least I didn’t remember telling him. So how had he known where I was?
My doubt quickly disappeared in the huge hug he gave me. The show wasn’t until the next day, so he followed me upstairs to our hotel room and sat and talked with me. It was a casual conversation. I told him about what had happened on the way there, and then he left with a “see you tomorrow” and a smile. The next day was mostly spent with my teammates preparing for the competition, so I didn’t see him until after my performance was over, and that too, only for a few minutes. It was quick, but he gave me a hug and told me I did great, even though it didn’t go so well. After the show was over, it was time for the after-party.
Since we had to change out of competition outfits, it took a while for us to actually get to the after-party itself. But the whole time, he kept texting me and asking where I was and when I’d be there. Finally, we got there and he was waiting for me at the door for me. He slipped an arm around my waist and somehow got me into the VIP section of the club. The night went on and we were drinking with his friends and dancing until I got tired. He immediately noticed and asked if I wanted to “get out of here and go hang out.” I said “yes,” being tired and slightly tipsy. So he took me by the hand, and off we went. We got to his hotel and he went into the bathroom, so I plopped down on the bed, grabbed the remote, and started flipping through channels. When he finally came out of the bathroom, he walked towards me, and without warning, pushed me down on the bed and started kissing me. I won’t go into too much detail after this, but his hands were everywhere, and despite my constant begging and pleading, he didn’t stop.
[Read Related: #BrownGirlsTalkSex: Committing the Mother of All Sins as a Pakistani-Muslim Woman]
Somehow I got through to the next day and he drove me back to my hotel. I hugged him and we parted ways. For at least six months after that night, I heard nothing from him. Then one day, I got a text from him saying, “We need to talk and you know what it’s about.” He proceeded to blame me for the whole incident, saying that I had led him on and the whole thing was my fault, etc. I think I was much more shocked than hurt at that point. Before then, I at least hoped for an apology, a reason as to why he thought that was okay. But after what he said, I gave up and shut down. I felt dirty, guilty…every terrible word you could come up with was what I felt. With no real support around me, I fell into depression and anxiety. Not many people knew what had happened that night, but I’m sure most had their own assumptions.
How am I now, you ask? Well, I’m much better, but I’ll never be okay. Back in December of this year, I publicly talked about what had happened that night and directly addressed him, both without exposing his identity. And something amazing happened. He finally apologized. Something I had given up on completely. Did it make what he did any better? Definitely not. It still hurts me to this day.
This incident has affected much of how I view sex and intimate relationships now. I still go back to that night in memory, occasionally, wondering what I had done to deserve that. I haven’t forgotten, nor have I forgiven. I’ve simply moved on, with a pride I should have remembered I had a long time ago.
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