Let's Talk About Sex Baby!

Do you remember your first time? For most it is awkward, weird, maybe scary. Then there are the outliers, who thoroughly enjoyed their first time. Mine? Well I don't have an official first time story, me & my virginity just can't seem to break ties yet. I do however have an almost first time story, and trust me, it was a theatrical performance. The academy has yet to send me my Oscar.

A 20 year old virgin is like a 40 year old virgin in college years. Sex had just never been on the agenda. I had spent my high school years with my squad loathing that we'd never find boyfriends. Looking back I miss those days. I miss that girl who worried about boys from a far and had never experienced heartbreak or embarrassment. That girl really wasn't consumed with the thought of boys. Yes in conversation, boys were big, but they were miniscule to the relevance they incur in my life now. Back in high school, I didn't have my first kiss until 17. That was rushed. I felt like I should have been kissed by then. I rushed that kiss and let it happen with a boy who was in a rush as well. We rushed into a relationship and it was the most toxic time of my life. I had another boyfriend after, during my Freshman year of college, and that wrapped my boyfriend phase. Regrets aren't my thing, so I take every relationship as a lesson. I appreciate them both. My second relationship fizzled in my opinion due to lack of sex.

Sex. It always comes back to sex. Most guys aren't going to stick around without it. My sophomore year of college, a guy finally asked me why. Why haven't you had sex? I had never thought about. I had never had a consistent boyfriend. I had never felt like I was in love. God would come down to Earth, snatch me up and send me straight to Hell. I would end up pregnant after the first time, because God was waiting to punish me. You shouldn't have sex before marriage-that's the gospel. I'm too lazy to learn flips and tricks. What I look like packing an overnight bag? The answer I ultimately gave him was: No one was ever worth it. Being a virgin taught me some game though. I learned guys were shocked, yet not turned off by virgins. See to a guy, they were thinking the prize was theirs. "Baby I'll be gentle" "I won't leave you" "I'm not like those other guys" "We'll be together forever". Wait, pause, rewind and sit down. Who said you were taking my virginity? "I can teach you to take dick". Is this the beginning of a porno? Nigga please. That became my life for about a year. I had a few "teachers" lined up. Female virginity past 19 was a curse. Its an even bigger curse when your new college friends are having sex, and a lot of it. You get all the juicy details. In today's society most things are vulgar and explicit. Music, television, movies. Sex was everywhere. Hell I felt like sex was consuming my life. So very much so, that I got to the point where I was like: Fuck it, I'm getting rid of this hymen now!

I said I rush things right? Things that should be given to someone special? First kiss. First time? Why not. I changed my outlook on sex to be this: Every sin is weighed the same. Lying to my mom is just as bad as having sex, so go for it! I was on my grown and sexy black woman who does brunches and day parties shit. I was in the attitude of: If I lose my virginity, so what, boss up. I started talking to guys and developed a little roster. I usually don't talk to more than one guy at once, so when I broke this mold, best believe I was feeling myself. I gassed myself up as my phone would constantly ding. Be warned that when your head gets big, your good sense is pushed way back. So when trouble came waltzing into my life, I was too blind to see it.

Enter Monroe White Jr. I think I'm popping because a few boys are paying me a little attention, but school's out and most of those young men are in their respective home towns. I'm all alone and here comes this young man, with an internship in the city. The resume looks phenomenal. A good GPA, a full ride, he doesn't go to my school, but his isn't far, he's mobile, newly in a frat, has an accent, and a beard. I'm a sucker for beards. How did I end up like this? Back on topic. Anyway, here I am minding my own business and this young man just has to step in and mess everything up. All relationships are lessons right? My words. This was a lesson, I am forever grateful for, but dang even writing about it still tugs at my hurt little heart.

Let's fast forward a bit. I met Monroe, (boom cool), we begin to talk, (alright bet), things pick up, (tell me more), I decide his resume and "sweet Oscar performance ways" have granted him the title of my virginity taker, (dumb move princess). Notice the sweet Oscar performance ways in quotes. Ladies and gentleman this man played me like a clarinet, but we're getting to that. In the beginning I wasn't feeling him. It was a nice fling, but ehh. So one day I post on snapchat that I'm cooking out at my house. He texts me saying he's coming over to eat. Essentially inviting himself, I really didn't care. I'm a grandma at heart, so feeding people brings me joy. As it gets closer to when I told him to come him over he texts me all nervous asking who will be there. I explain its my family and one friend. So six people max, very intimate. He seemed so nervous, it was extremely "sweet". My family of course loved him and planted the seeds that I should give him a shot. I love my family to death, but do not let someone on the outside paint a picture of a reality you do not foresee. Stick to your gut and be mean, always. Once you fall, guess who's there to catch you? The wrong one! Refer to these quotes and this little story later.

Let's get to the sex! Well the almost sex. So there were a few attempts but this particular time is where I deserve my Oscar. So we're laying there, missionary and he's adjusting himself. In my head I'm giving myself a pep talk. "Don't punk out. You got this. Just lay there. Let him do all the work. Imagine this is like the third time. Are the lights still on? Why is no music playing? Does this nigga really know me? Do I know him? Did I leave the lights on in my car?" WAIT, STOP, LET'S TALK. I literally start squirming like a snail. Yelling "WAIT, STOP, LET'S TALK". I'm asking this boy, "do you know the Lord, how bad will it hurt, can you give me a countdown, wait hell no I hate countdowns, Let me get high or drunk first, something please!" Mini panic attack. He's saying "calm down, its ok" yada yada. Oh baby you really don't know me because I'm about to get my Viola Davis on. He tells me to keep still, but in my head I must have heard "run more". I was wiggling all over the bed. Each time, he'd get close, I would gasp, or yell and jump. You could tell he was getting frustrated. His frat had a little chant for "girl's who couldn't take dick". When he tried to adjust again, I yelled out "Start the chant, start the chant, because its definitely about me!" He burst out laughing. It was funny. The entire debacle was hilarious actually. I was completely over the top. I was jerking and jumping and screeching and screaming. Completely over dramatic. I kept imagining the pain and I think a part of me knew: I just wasn't ready. I wasn't ready at all. And from what I know now, he was not the one. Days later turned into about a week and I still hadn't heard from him. I sent texts and seemed way too needy looking back, all in search of a reason why communication had abruptly stopped. I later learned from a mutual friend, that he had told said friend about our sex attempts and confided in him that after each failed attempt, he would go have sex with another girl. I suffered a major L. In the beginning I felt betrayed that he would shake my father's hand, feed me those "sweet Oscar performance worthy" lies and then go tell someone about our time together. Oh and I guess, sleep with someone else, surprisingly I don't care that much. See there's the real me peaking through, the one not feeling him before the cookout. It should be noted that was as intimate, well as close to sex, as I had ever been with someone. Let's state facts, I'm overdramatic, a joke and a complete mess- but I was trying, it just wasn't working. So that hurt, but hey life goes on.

I decided I could sulk and be miserable or pick myself up. Hell, this boy was out here making moves when I didn't even know. Boss up. That was my motto right? I decided to stick to my philosophy of no regrets, just lessons. The lesson I gained was to slooowww down. Stop rushing things. I would miss the girl I once was, when my virginity is gone. Get to know who you decide to lay with, to spare heart break. And never forget who you are. I confided in a friend after I learned what was said behind my back and his first question was: "Did you forget who you are? How did you let any guy stress you out." I really had to boss up and wake up! I couldn't cry over this boy. I had to get up and make moves. Embarrassment is only hurtful if you let it be. When I replayed the story, it made me laugh. It's a funny memory. I use it's lessons to be a better and stronger me and I use its humor to laugh. Shake off your past and never forget who you are. I am beautiful and smart, a mess and a joke and above all I'm not built to have casual sex. It's just not in me. Its a crash and burn attempt. I need sex with meaning and it has to be done with love, otherwise, its a joke. Simple.

This new phase of my life is called: "Yes, I'm a virgin, I don't plan on losing it anytime soon and you can either get with it, or get lost. Period." The "get with it or get lost" is a literal movement. Its the head space I'm within right now with all things. Yes it may be lonely for a while. But 'high school me' was lonely romantically, and like I said, I miss her. We need to reconnect, I'm so looking forward to finding her again.