Having Sex and Regretting It
The first time I had sex I regretted it. In the park on the ground where any passerby could see if they wanted to, just to get it over with. He was a “Mexican,” someone I knew I wouldn’t have to keep dating nor have to bring around to my friends. He was someone I could use to lose my virginity and get it over with. I was on the rag too. Ick. I wanted to get it over with, not get preggers, and figured he was a good candidate. My best friend was happy for me. I got it done.
I regretted it mainly because he responded afterward worse than I thought. He didn’t pursue me nor ask me out again, but rather turned out to be a lot more intelligent than my crazy teenage ass gave him credit for. I thought I should have done it differently. Oh well, such is life. It’s a regret I left behind rather quickly.
Sex I’ve regretted since was a lot more regrettable and lasted a lot longer. I had a boyfriend that I took on one summer when he was looking pretty hot. Tanned, muscular, losing his hair but I didn’t really care about that. A balding man looks great if he’s confident about it. His confidence and good looks faded with the summer sun and somehow when he “landed” me. By that time I didn’t want to date him any more but hadn’t learned how to assert myself. The weeks turned into months and the months turned into a nightmare.
In retrospect I learned one of the most important lessons my mother never taught me. How to say no with your own well being in mind. Saying no and hurting someone is always a better prospect than letting yourself get abused. Putting up a fight is better than laying down and taking it just to get it over with. And that regrettable sex taught me that.
By the time I filed a restraining order on him, he’d become used to pressuring me into sex and me giving in, become used to me putting up with sleep deprivation and the stalking, had isolated me from all my friends and from anyone who knew what was really going on. It ended nastily and with legal action, and with a hard lesson that’s served me very well since.
Then there’s the one time I had sex with a yeast infection, ugh. I regret that because it pretty much put my new lover off on the entire idea of having sex with me. It was embarrassing, painful, and smelly. That lesson taught me right away, that no one is immune from the necessity of sexual cleanliness. He was older than I, we were in college, and that was the last time we had sex. Thank god he was mature enough to keep it between the two of us. I’ve had many friends suffer tremendous humiliation from having just fun sex, and then the guy spreading it around that she’s not clean. Ouch!