Entries tagged with "sex"
I am a 22 year old sex addict. I decided when I was 15 that I wanted to wait to do “the deed” until I met someone that I actually cared about. After years of high school heckling and countless “Virgin Mary” references my first few years of college, I finally found a man that I absolutely adored. It was the best night of my life; I was 21 years old. I didn’t just let this man inside of me, I let him into my heart. A few days later, he broke it off, explaining that “You’re just not what I want in a woman.” My self-esteem took a major hit. Soon after, I started partying more and more. I began using my body as my defense mechanism. Sleeping with every man that seemed to get a hard-on when I’d touch his arm. From bathroom sex at parties to seducing coworkers to a hotel room during our lunch break. I decided that instead of allowing a man to use me, I’ll use him first! I’m always left feeling empty, but at least I can’t get hurt.
I’m 21 years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend. I am funny, charming, smart, and have a pretty face… but I am overweight, and I always have been. I don’t have unsightly fat rolls or anything, but I do have very large hips, legs, arms, and an unnaturally huge ass. I’ve been dieting and working out for as long as I can remember, but to no avail. I fear that sooner or later, I’ll have to just accept that this is how I am… but as of now, I just can’t. I hate everything about my body, and no one understands, because none of my friends or family are overweight. Guys never want to date me… they only want to have sex with me, in secret. I do my best to stay positive but at night, when I’m laying in bed alone, I can’t help but wonder, ‘Why me? Why was I born like this, when my best friends were born perfect and beautiful? Why aren’t there any good men out there that will see me for who I am inside, instead of the size of my body? When is it going to be MY turn to be happy?’
No one knows how depressed and lonely I truly am, and I hate that I can’t talk to anyone about it. The few times I’ve tried, all anyone has to say is, “Be patient, you’ll find someone when you least expect it.” Thanks for trying, but that is honestly the last thing I want to hear. I’m very quickly losing faith.
I’m 21 years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend. I am funny, charming, smart, and have a pretty face… but I am overweight, and I always have been. I don’t have unsightly fat rolls or anything, but I do have very large hips, legs, arms, and an unnaturally huge ass. I’ve been dieting and working out for as long as I can remember, but to no avail. I fear that sooner or later, I’ll have to just accept that this is how I am… but as of now, I just can’t. I hate everything about my body, and no one understands, because none of my friends or family are overweight. Guys never want to date me… they only want to have sex with me, in secret. I do my best to stay positive but at night, when I’m laying in bed alone, I can’t help but wonder, ‘Why me? Why was I born like this, when my best friends were born perfect and beautiful? Why aren’t there any good men out there that will see me for who I am inside, instead of the size of my body? When is it going to be MY turn to be happy?’
No one knows how depressed and lonely I truly am, and I hate that I can’t talk to anyone about it. The few times I’ve tried, all anyone has to say is, “Be patient, you’ll find someone when you least expect it.” Thanks for trying, but that is honestly the last thing I want to hear. I’m very quickly losing faith.
I love you so much but I’m so terrified that A) You will just use me for sex when I get back and that B) You don’t actually love me. I hate being so far away from you. I just want to be in your arms forever and never worry about anything. I have held myself back from so many people and the fact that I actually opened up and let you into my life and gave you love is so bewildering to me that it must be right. Typical that when I find someone to hold on to is the moment when I have to move across the country.
I realized something wonderful the other day. I don’t just want to have sex with her, I want to make love to her. She’ll probably still say no but I’m glad I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a difference.
My friend is dying due to an addiction to heroin, cocaine, pills, syrups, basically anything he can take to get fucked up. We dated for five months, then I finally left him thinking he was using me for sex. He wasn’t. But he isn’t this way because of me—it was the girl before me. I can’t decide what’s worse, the fact that my friend is going to die and there’s nothing I can do, or that I’m jealous that I’m not the cause.
The other day, I realized that having sex makes my body react the same way as when I’m having a panic attack. My breathing shortens, I get cold and clammy, I shiver uncontrollably, my entire body goes numb, and I start crying. How about I go get a new life, one where you didn’t rape me and I didn’t have to see your face around the house every other weekend? A new life where I could actually enjoy sex, or being in public, or meeting new people, or expressing myself somewhere it might be found and related back to me? How about that? Wouldn’t that be nice? Hmm? I think it would be pretty fucking awesome. I’m never going to enjoy sex, or art, and art is what I live for. No wonder I have mental problems. Fuck you, you know? Fuck you.
I’m a liar. I lie so much, that there are some things I’ve actually started to believe. I tell people I’m Puerto Rican to avoid being called ‘white girl’. I have my whole fake history going back like, four generations. When I was thirteen I met this guy, we dated for about a year on and off, but I tell people it was two. Makes it seem more attached. I also say I lost my virginity to him, and got pregnant but lost the baby. Wrong, but I actually got so attached to the fake baby that I cried for months when I got my period. I actually lost it to this guy I met on vacation, and thought I was really pregnant. Wrong, same reaction. I tell people that I hallucinate, and even though I know what’s real and what isn’t, I’ve started talking to people that aren’t there. I’m sixteen, and I’m starting to believe that nothing is real. I’m scared.
I am a bad person, I have had sex with a girl that was really nice and vulnerable. I need to let this out as it has been almost 7 years and I still think of her even though I am now married. Let’s hope she can forgive and forget, like I am trying to do.
My parents are swingers and I’m sixteen. I don’t care about that though. I love my parents. It doesn’t bother me that they are in love with another couple. I like them too.
I’m worried that this might mess me up. That I’ll get unrealistic ideas of love. Or that my friends will find out and not like me anymore. Or that someone at school will find out and spread it and then I’ll become even more of an outcast than before.
I don’t blame my parents. But sometimes I wish my life was more normal.
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