Stop Making Me Feel Bad For Not Wanting To Have Sex With You

not wanting to have sex

CONTENT WARNING: This post touches on subjects closely related to rape/non-consensual sex.

DISCLAIMER: Please do not continue reading if you may be triggered by subjects listed above. Please do not continue reading if you are family or a friend who does not want to read about my sexual experiences.


At a young age, I was taught that showing my skin meant that I was “asking for it” and that no respectable woman would show too much skin.

Showing skin wasn’t going to get me a husband because “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” (On a side note, who came up with this saying? I’m sure this cow metaphor doesn’t make women any more secure about their weight, by the way).

I was taught that I was more likely to be raped if I showed too much skin skin. I was taught that I would be a distraction to those in my church and at school if I showed too much skin.

I was constantly blamed for my body, and it followed me until the moment I lost my virginity.

People praised me for being 18, 19, 20 years old and a virgin, but it honestly didn’t make me feel good about myself. I wondered what was wrong with me because nobody wanted me in that way. Being a virgin made me feel ugly and unsexy.

When I was 20, I started dating this older guy who finally made me feel sexy and wanted. He would tell me how much he wanted me. I finally felt normal.

But why was I so afraid to tell him I was a virgin? I think I was afraid he would find out and stop talking to me. This idea probably came from these stories I would read online and in magazines where guys would drop girls for being virgins because it was too much emotional responsibility.

Not with this guy. In fact, it was the exact opposite with him. He felt like he wanted to “earn” my virginity. As if this social construct had anything to do with defining me as a person.

It turned me off and then I realized, people made such a big deal out of something that was not a big deal at all. What was virginity anyway? Was I really defined as a person by some guy putting his penis inside of me?

I ended things with him and decided that I wanted to have sex as soon as possible. I wanted a one-night stand because I didn’t want to get attached. I just wanted to get this thing over with, which also wasn’t a great way to deal with this so-called “virginity” issue.

So I kind of planned it, knowing what I was getting myself into. I got a guy to pick me up from a party and take me to his apartment, knowing well I probably would never see or talk to him again after this.

I still don’t know if I was really ready. Or if anyone is ever really ready. I was scared. I thought, after spending only 5 hours with him, that I might actually like him? I don’t know. I was so confused and I didn’t know what to do.

But something changed. He began getting angry, as if I was playing games with him. He felt like I was trying to get him to earn my body, which made him even more mad because “sex didn’t mean anything.” He knew I was a virgin, but he didn’t care. He really thought I was just trying to withhold my pussy from him like a power play.

It made me even more confused. Why was I making such a big deal now? Isn’t this what I wanted? But the angrier he got over my body, the more uncomfortable I felt. It made me hate him, but the more I hated him, the more it would add to my plan of never seeing him again or getting attached. Even more than before, I wanted to get it over with.

So I did it. It was painful. It was bloody. It was everything I did and didn’t expect. I felt disgusting and I cried for the next two days.

I don’t feel like I did something that I didn’t chose to do. Sure, it could have been a whole lot better and more “meaningful,” but I honestly don’t regret it and I don’t look back and wish it went some other way. If people think I’m dirty or a whore because of it, then y’all can kick rocks.

What else could have happened? He falls in love with me, we start dating, and we live happily ever after?

And no, I’m not just justifying a shitty situation.

I’ve had multiple experiences like this since: guys who felt like they were entitled to my body because I dressed a certain way or made sexual jokes. I wondered if maybe I acted differently or dressed more modestly, if it would change the way guys saw me. Maybe they would respect me and like me for my personality. Maybe if I did what my church told me to do in the first place.

I had a recent experience that kind of fucked me up. A guy added me on Twitter, slid into my DMs and we started to talk. He constantly tried to convince me that he wasn’t a fuckboy all the while begging me to send nudes and trying to send me dick pics.

I wasn’t having it. It made me question myself again. Did I deserve this because I post selfies with cleavage? Is this what I should expect because I tweet about sex?

No.

I didn’t deserve this. Just because I joke around about sex, it doesn’t give anyone the right to demand for sex. Just because I post selfies that show skin, it doesn’t mean I’m obliged to send ass and titty pictures.

So I called him out on only talking to me for my body and told him he was the epitome of a fuckboy. He proceeded to block me on every form of social media, except for snapchat. Because there, he would screenshot the selfies I posted on my snap story. Then at 2AM a couple of days later, he sent me a dick pic.

“Thoughts?” he asked.

“You blocked me and then cocked me,” I replied with before blocking him on Snapchat.

People tell me I should be happy for this kind of attention, but being harassed online and on the streets does the opposite of flatter– it makes me forget my self worth and question every decision I make. Am I allowed to say this? Am I allowed to wear that?

Why do women have to determine these normal, everyday decisions based on what we’re afraid men might do? It’s fucking sick.

So, please, stop making me feel bad for not wanting to fuck you.

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