I’ve always wanted to write about my sexcapades.

I have an array of experiences with men and women that fill my heart with love and pain. Sex has always been really important to me. I think about it a lot. I think about it when I look at myself in the mirror. I think about it when I see someone I find attractive. I think about it when I’m lying in my bed at night and in the morning. I think about it constantly. I spend a lot of time wondering if people want to have sex with me. I wonder if I’m desirable. I also think about how terrible my relationship with sex has been. I think about the good and the bad experiences. Needless to say, sex has played a huge role in my life. It’s gets me thinking about my earliest experiences with sex. I was 14 when I became sexually active. I’ve written about my first experience, which was all around confusing and traumatic. But that didn’t stop me from searching for more sexual partners and experiences. In fact, I think it ignited my curiosity even more.

When I was around 15 years old I met up with a stranger I met online. We met on Myspace. He was “emo”. Being “emo” meant you listened to emotional music and usually had dyed black hair that covers your eyes. They usually wore wristbands, bracelets, skinny jeans and black hoodies. I was totally into “emo” guys in my early teens. The guy I met online fit this description perfectly. His profile picture was him with long black hair in the front that covered one of his eyes and he had black painted nails and a nose ring. He showed interest in me and called me beautiful. He asked about my friends and family, and what I like to do in my free time. We liked the same bands and I thought I had found my perfect match. He told me his name was Nick and he was 21 years old and I lied and told him I was 18. He lived not too far from Santa Monica pier. We chatted for a number of weeks before we decided to meet in person. We agreed to meet on the Santa Monica pier at a burger joint.

I was so nervous to meet Nick. It took me hours to get ready. I was super insecure about my body. I thought my breasts were too small. I thought my hair was ugly. I hated my hands and my big toes. I wanted to cover everything up with make-up, a tight fitted dress and a long fitted coat. I even wore a hat and a wig to cover my short curly hair. I tried everything to appear older than a 15 year old teenage girl. I looked in the mirror at myself. I felt so awkward in my skin. I had only kissed a few kids my age and I wondered what it would be like to kiss someone in their 20’s. I went right up to the mirror and kissed it, practicing for Nick, my lips trying to find something to hold onto. I pulled away from the mirror and there was lipstick and slobber distorting my reflection. It was a true depiction of how I was feeling on the inside; all blurry and jumbled up. I had no idea who was looking back at me. I see a girl, trying to be a woman, with fake eyelashes and bright red lips. “I look older,” I thought to myself. “Nick is totally going to believe I’m 18.”

I hop on the Big Blue Bus and made my way to the Santa Monica Pier. I have my Nokia phone, a little bit of cash and my bright red lipstick in my purse. I can feel all the men on the bus looking at me. I make eye contact with a younger guy and he winked at me. I quickly look away and out the window of the bus. I have my eyes only on the thought of Nick. I watch as the cars and lights pass by, trying to distract myself from the butterflies flying around in my stomach. I have to get off one bus and transfer to another. It takes me about 30 minutes to get to the pier. I get off the bus right at the entrance to the pier and I start to feel really nervous. “What if he sees me and knows I”m not 18? What if he doesn’t think I’m as beautiful as my pictures? What if he thinks I’m boring? What are we going to talk about?” My nerves are starting to get the best of me. I just want to cross the street and sit right back down at the bus stop and wait for the next bus to take me back home so I can take all this makeup off and remove this scratchy wig. Then just as I was about to cross to the opposite side of the street, I hear a voice say, “Molly?”

I turn and it’s Nick. He’s a lot taller than me, I’d say about six feet five inches. His black hair covers half of his face and he’s wearing a black hoodie and skinny jeans. He’s a lot heavier than I thought he was going to be. We awkwardly stand facing each other, not knowing whether to shake hands or hug. “He’s almost as awkward as me,” I think to myself. I finally reach my arms out and we hug. I can feel his bulging belly pressing against mine. He’s really warm and I can feel he’s perspiring underneath his hoodie. “Nice to meet you Nick”, I manage to get out trying to break the silence. He then says, “Sorry I’m just nervous, I’ve never met anyone offline before and you’re just so beautiful.” I feel my face getting hot. I hope it’s not obvious that I’m blushing. I felt comforted knowing this was his first time meeting someone offline too and that he thought I was beautiful. I smile at him and thank him for the compliment.

We make our way down the road that leads to the pier. We walk into the burger joint we had agreed to eat at. It’s counter service so we walk up to the counter and order a couple burgers with fries. We then find a table close towards the back of the restaurant to give us a little more privacy. Conversation feels really forced at this point. Now that I can see his face in the light, he looks older than 21. I’d say he’s closer to 25 maybe? He’s looking at me like he’s studying me. He finally asks if I’m really 18. I assure him that I am while not breaking eye contact. Nick smirks and sweeps his hair out of his eye. After what felt like an hour of silence had passed, he finally asks me if I’ve ever drank alcohol. “Of course I have,'' I reply. He asks me what my favorite drink is. I say “Vodka,” without missing a beat. He laughs and tells me he likes vodka too. He tells me he has some at his house. “Oh, cool,” I try to look unfazed, even though I was totally shaking in my seat at the thought of going back to his place. No, not because I was scared he’d rape and kill me, but because I assumed he was much more experienced than I was at sex and I wouldn’t know what to do and that I was flat chested and I was wearing a wig.

I feel like I’m about to faint because I’m so nervous and tense. He looks at me with his one exposed eye and smiles. He reaches over and takes one of my fries and throws it at me. “Relax!” he says. I giggle and feel embarrassed for being so nervous. He then says he has a great idea. “Do you like beer? They sell beer here.” I nod and give him a thumbs up. Of course I wanted a beer to calm my nerves and save me from my teenage angst. He goes up to the counter and comes back with two Bud Lights. I feel even more nervous because I’m way under the legal age to drink. Nick assures me that we’re fine and opens a beer and hands it to me. “Just drink this and relax.” As soon as those first couple huge gulps went down my throat, I felt the bubbly liquid coat the inside of my stomach and that slow warmth start to fill my veins, reaching all the limbs of my body. I felt my mind start to relax and the conversation started to flow more freely. We talk about his musical talents and my love of animals. He really listens to me and cares about what I have to say. I feel like such an adult, on an adult date, with an actual adult. “I’m totally pulling this off! He has no idea I’m still in highschool!” Nick grabs us a couple more beers and we drink them. I’m full on enjoying myself finally. We walk around the pier for a short while before he suggests that we go back to his place where he has vodka. “I know vodka is your favorite,” he says with an inviting smile on his face.

I started to feel a little uneasy about going back to his place. I mean, I felt like I knew him. We had been chatting for a few weeks, our first date was going well and we were having a really good time together. He claimed he wanted to show me some CD’s and play some songs on his guitar for me. I wanted to appear confident and adult like, so I agreed to go back to his place. In my mind, this is what adults do. They go out, have a good time and go back to their place to have more fun. We walk a short distance to his place. It’s a beautiful night. He reaches over and grabs my hand, so now we’re walking hand in hand like a real couple. I can feel the two beers sloshing around in my belly replacing the butterflies I had felt earlier with excitement for what’s to come. I felt so special and so wanted and loved. I started to imagine what kissing him would feel like and wondering if I’d have to take off my wig at some point throughout the night.

We arrive at an apartment complex. We walk inside his place and it’s a one bedroom apartment. There’s a small kitchen, a small living room and a small bedroom. “Wow”, I thought to myself. “I can’t believe I’m on a date with a guy who has his own place.” I sit down on the couch and Nick immediately goes right to the kitchen and pours us two drinks. He hands me one. It’s a perfect mix of cranberry and vodka, I can barely taste the vodka. He sits down next to me on the couch. Now he’s sitting much closer and puts his hand on my leg. “You’re so beautiful,'' he says while looking at my legs. His compliment makes me feel really lightheaded. I have no idea how to respond. “Thanks?” I manage to get out. He laughs. “It’s so cute how nervous you are.” “Cute? God I probably look like a total idiot.” I try and sit up straighter to appear more confident. He goes into his room and grabs his guitar. “I’m going to play you a song.” He strokes the guitar strings lightly and sings an emotional song. I start to wonder if we’re going to have sex tonight. I hadn’t even slept with a handful of people at this point. I was very brand new to sex and had no idea how to initiate. I had no idea what felt good to me or what would feel good for him. I chug the vodka cranberry he made before he could finish his first song. He stops mid song, grabs my glass, goes to the kitchen and hands me another vodka cranberry. He picks up his guitar and starts right back where he left off to finish the song.

The alcohol is doing its thing. I’m feeling very much inebriated. I think Nick notices this and suggests we go lie down for a little while in his room. I’m feeling much more relaxed and comfortable with Nick, so I agree. We walk in his room and it’s very small. There’s just enough room for a bed and a small desk. He takes off my jacket and my boots. He tries to take off my hat, but I stop him and tell him I’m wearing a wig. He laughs and says it’s okay. He wants to see what I look like without it. I’m so worried he’s going to hate my hair so I tell him I’m going to leave it on. He then somehow convinces me that it’s okay and I agree to take it off. I slowly remove the wig and shake my hair out. He takes a step back and looks at me and smiles. “I love your hair!” This made me feel so good. I felt so good in my own skin in that moment. He sits down next to me on the bed and starts playing with my hair. We laugh and talk a little more about life. Nick casually asks me how many people I’ve slept with. He caught me off guard with this question. I tell him a few. I ask him how many people he’s slept with and he responds with the same answer, “A few.”

He lays down next to me on the bed. I notice that he hasn’t taken his hoodie off or his shoes. I don’t say anything because I don’t want to make him feel weird. We’re now laying side by side facing each other. He reaches over and runs his hand over my hips and down my thigh. Our eyes meet and he slowly leans in and our lips meet. I still remember how his lips felt. My first kiss with an adult. They were soft and moist. He definitely knew how to kiss. It was very different from the teenage boys I had kissed before. It was slow and sensual. He placed his hand on my neck behind my ear and pulled me in closer. I felt so stiff and had no idea where to put my hands. He gently takes my hand and places it on his hips. I start rubbing his back and I can feel the heat underneath his hoodie. He’s soft and doughy. I figure this is why he doesn’t want to take his hoodie off because he’s self conscious about his body, like me. Our make out session continues for what feels like a few minutes, then like a light switch he just completely takes control. He’s definitely getting a lot more sweaty because his hoodie is now feeling damp. He grabs my hand and places it on his crotch through his tight jeans. He’s huge. I’m taken back and I’m not sure if I’m ready for all of this. I mean I just met the guy. I don’t really know much about him and I think he’s a lot older than he says. Without saying a word he flips me on my stomach and hikes up my dress and rips off my panties. At this point, I’ve never had a guy do this before and it feels good having him be in control. I hear him unbuckle his pants and then I hear him spit on his hand and rub it on me, then bam, he’s inside of me. I manage to ask if he put a condom on, he assured me he did. I can feel his belly rubbing against my back. I get the feeling he is a lot heavier than I thought underneath that hoodie. I’m just laying there letting this all happen. I am this 15 year old girl, not knowing what I like when it comes to sex, just trying to figure out if this is how it’s supposed to be. I remember feeling like, this is it. This is what sex is and this is okay, but also feeling really uneasy and unsatisfied by the whole situation. He leans in and whispers all sorts of sexual innuendos into my ear. I’m trying to act like I know what I’m doing by making noises and saying “yes” in between noises. Finally it’s over and he rolls off of me and walks into the bathroom. I remember just laying there soaking in the whole experience. I grab my panties and put them back on. I roll over and wait for Nick to walk back in the room. He walks back in and looks at me. He smiles and tells me he has to be at work the next day. He offers to drive me home but I tell him I can just take the bus. He helps me put my jacket back on and gives me a hug and tells me what a great time he had. It felt like he was almost rushing me out of his place. There was no promise to see each other again or plans for future dates. I walk out the door and he closes it behind me. I walk alone to the bus stop and sit and wait. The alcohol is starting to wear off and I feel really weird. I feel terrible. I start to feel this overwhelming feeling of being used. “Is that all he wanted from me? Did he really think I was beautiful?”

Nick and I only had a couple more conversations on Myspace after this encounter. He constantly made up excuses about how he was too busy to hang out again, so I let him go. I thought we would start dating and become a couple one day. Now that I’m older and have lived a life, I can start to go back and play out the whole “date” in my head. He definitely was much older than me. All of his actions almost felt rehearsed, like he had done this all before. I didn’t really find him attractive, but I wanted to go through with the date anyway. I was a kid, trying to figure out where I fit into the world and I quite possibly encountered a predator in the process of finding myself. I can look back now at this situation and see how lucky I was that nothing tragic had happened. Maybe I was used a little and given alcohol to help feel more comfortable with him so he could get what he wanted, but I was not kidnapped or murdered or sold into sex slavery thankfully. I was searching for an adult experience and that’s exactly what I got. This was definitely not the last time I had found myself in a situation that I did not want and went through with it anyway.

That’s been my struggle, I’ve constantly hushed my inner voice. The shame and the guilt I feel while thinking about these experiences has been debilitating. I’ve forever thrown a pillow over my head and forced copious amounts of cocaine and vodka down my throat while suffocating to death to avoid having to think about any of this. That voice, my voice, has always been there. It’s always been right here. But I keep fucking not listening to it. WHY?! Why do I always argue with myself and make up excuses for not doing what’s best FOR ME? Maybe I’m a people pleaser? I bet a lot of people who know me would beg to differ. I can be super selfish. I’m always keeping my things close to my chest; my heart, my love and yes material things like money and my time. But I also give myself away a lot. I’ve had such pointless and meaningless sex. The nights I was so blacked out and just needing to fill some sort of void in my being that I chose the closest attractive thing and let him inside me; just physically, never emotionally. I have a really hard time letting people actually inside me. You know, like in my heart.

I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s because I haven’t let myself in. I haven’t learned what truly loving me is. I honestly don’t even really know what that looks like. But I’m taking little steps each day to learn what that kind of love looks like. For example, I’m in one-on-one therapy for the trauma I experienced as a teenager and for the trauma that life is. It really helps me to go back and relive these moments with a different outlook on life. I walk into this room with this pretty young therapist who listens to me and gives me really good advice and who’s teaching me about how I need to create different neural pathways in my brain so that the trauma that has been guiding me for a lot of my life can be recognizable and I can stop it dead in its tracks and create new pathways with better, more positive thoughts to flow through me to help build a healthy relationship with myself and with others.

There is some powerful work at play here. I’m taking all these little baby steps. Taking one little step at a time, gliding down a dark hallway and holding onto things around me so I don’t fall over. Only this time, I’m going to make it easy on myself. I’m going to take off those fake eyelashes, red lipstick and that tight dress. I’m going to love the road I have traveled and look forward and embrace all that is to come. I want to experience sex in a whole new way. I want it to be meaningful and I want to be present while it is happening. I love my body, I love my sexuality and I deserve to be treated with respect. These words are my truth and these words are my new reality.

I am sex, sex is me and all I really want is to be free.