A friend of mine wrote this as part of her healing process.
She told me to write my heart out, so here I am writing because to keep it all hidden is to seek death; and no matter how tough the road gets, I’m tougher and I will not and refuse to take the fool’s way out. Whenever I put up updates on BBM or post tweets on twitter and there’s an atom of truth about it, then I’m being termed dramatic. So, here I am sitting on my bed and experiencing paranoia because I don’t want to have to bear the thought of staring my emotions in the face for the umpteenth time. I was going through the 30-day blog challenge on 19th street and I had flashbacks.
Why am I writing today? Well… i just lost my virginity that’s why and I want to vent not because I regret it but because it just wasn’t good enough for me to keep wanting more – I mean after 3 rounds of sex all on the same day, you would expect you keep craving and mind you I handled my pain well because I had prepared myself emotionally for it; so even when I was really hurting I lied; when I was sated I longed for more just so I would get to enjoy it but did I? No! I had been promised mind-blowing sex and I was determined to enjoy it to the fullest (you see I had gone in with the consciousness that if I wanted to commit this sin, then I had to enjoy it). In between moments of raised legs and constant rolling of eyes, it felt like such work and a highly overrated routine.
For someone so optimistic, my ego was bruised – it became an awkward task, constantly having to fit the round peg in the tiny oval hole, I was so frustrated and I remember going into the bathroom and having a good cry and at some point I curled into a foetal position and feigned tiredness. The only reason I endured the sexual frustration was because I liked the guy but in my mind a lot became clear; sometimes you take bullshit from people that you like just because… Well, I was created as a sexual being and my quest to seek it from other avenues except my husband ends here because I plan to stop being disappointed in guys that won’t offer forever, I will not lose my heart and then raise my legs all at once. That would mean I lose both ways.
Why did I do it? – I still do not have an answer. My emotions have not clearly been defined even to the guy I gave it up for but one thing was certain, I was tired of losing out because of it, tired of waiting for my relationships to fail so I let it go not because I felt he was worth it but because I needed to have a bit of control, in that instance, I forgot God (not proud of this fact) but I did, I forgot everything I was taught; my precepts, the law of Moses and especially the Bible.
I always feel worthless and that’s no news because since when I could remember it was either I met someone who tried to rape me and I ran; or someone I gave myself to who just didn’t want to be responsible for me. I am an irrational being, I am not proud of that fact but I am. Sometimes I do not think things through and I am broken in some many places… my heart, my esteem, everything. I used to look up to my parents to fix me but they are human and are hardly the role models I would want in my life anyway.
I come from an abusive home you see, dad used to beat mum and they still fight a lot. Dad is a womanizer but somehow grace is enough for him. Maybe I’m so broken I’m following in his footsteps because after having dealt with the trauma of seeing your dad with other women while beating your mum for allegedly telling his kids lies that he does what he does; you get to wonder about the type of heart people have.
All the male friends I have ever had have at one point or the other told me about how disorganized my emotions are; and they do not lie – I do not understand myself sometimes, I do not seek to because slowly but surely the broken pieces are being mended but it never helps to meet people who are so willing to give up on you so easily. I have cried a lot but somehow I wait for it to happen, I think my brain has been conditioned now to enter into relationships just so I will leave in pain and when people don’t leave, I get scared because I’m waiting on the time they will give up so in a way I push them away while daring them to stay. Everyone is messed up in their own screwed up way so why can’t we all be messed up together? Especially in this time and age when the coochie or the phallus has become a souvenir for all that’re willing to own it. It’s like giving freebies to all and sundry. Well, I am thirsty that’s for sure but I would rather thirst in the arms of the one who would want to handle my Pandora’s Box; show me one who isn’t senile and I would show you an alien. The only thing is some have not been officially locked up, some like me ^_^.
I am not outsourcing for clemency, I love the topsy-turvy sometimes, I love the insaneness but peace sometimes is such a sweet relief to the restive soul. My mind is chaotic, my mind is in shambles but I am building around my life and trying to keep faith. I had a talk with God yesterday because I was tired of keeping it all in, so I cried to God, fell on my knees and sobbed – heart wrenching, deeply ingrained wails – I sat and was literally shaking for two minutes and I knew then that I would never be rid of my mistakes, I would never find that peace unless I turned full throttle to God and asked Him to lead. Do I want to get married? If there wasn’t a God, no but the only safe place to fulfil whatever selfish sexual desire you have without feeling overly guilty is within the full confines of marriage – and I speak for myself in this case.
I was born on a Wednesday and at some point in my life, I started to recite mother goose’s poem on what being born on particular days meant; and at the point I get to my own, I sang it out loud – Wednesday’s child is full of woes – I believed it, because as far as I am concerned, my life’s never been easy; I hope and know it will get better but at the time sigh!!!