Tag: sexual education

  • “Short-Term Relationship”: How it has fucked me good and bad.

    If you haven’t seen my prior posts then the skinny is that I just ended a 6-year long relationship with a woman (I am a woman) in December and began casually hooking up with men in February to explore my sexuality again. I have now slept with 5 guys in a 2-month span.

    Over the course of all this time, I have learned quite a lot about my body (Hello, having to worry about STDs and pregnancy all over again) and what it’s like to experience men in my 30’s after my last run-in being when I was 23.

    I have been exploring the then and now comparisons and how age plays a part, my sexual needs from men compared to women, and most of all how to communicate with this entire other species after having it easy for 6 years with a woman who knew the ins and outs of my whole life and could relate to me on so many different levels men just can’t.

    Starting this journey, I looked up hook-up culture on TikTok to see what the girlies were up to and how they were approaching it. I was shocked to see that all the girls were swearing against it and harshly. Some of the comments on each were forgiving where women were saying “friends with benefits can be great and healthy and yada yada”, but the actual content was all against.

    I was shocked because I assumed that there would be tons of women out there posting about their fulfilling hook-ups, situationships and friends with benefits that I could really benefit listening to stories, but no – it was quite the opposite.

    I remember messaging my best friend telling her that I feel like hook-ups can be super healthy (I was in the midst of guy number 4 – see below- and in a sexual daze before I realized who he was outside of bed). I was telling her, “These girls are all against, but if there isn’t a risk for catching feelings why can’t sex be a healthy thing amongst friends who are on the same page?”

    As I started to move through guy number 3,4,5 – it all started to make more sense to me.

    Out of these 5 men:

    • 3 provided me with really great sexual experiences.
    • 3 were defensive regularly
    • 2 walked me to my car/home after hanging out.
    • 1 came prepared with his own condom.
    • All 5 need to go to therapy before considering long-term relationships.
    • & all 5 made me cry at least once.

    I’m writing because guy #5, the only one left up until tonight, was the last straw. It took me five guys to start to ask myself – ‘is hook-up culture for me?’

    The first guy, I had hooked up with a few times and it was easily the best sex I had ever had. Everything was great, that is until he no showed one night even after texting me up to the last 30-mintues telling me he was on his way (after being hours late already) and updating me on how far he was out. He decided to take a spontaneous detour to get stoned at his friend’s house and fell asleep. I had cleaned my entire apartment, put on makeup, and waited for way too long for this man until I realized he wasn’t coming. When I told him I was upset, he gave a weak apology followed with an excuse.

    The second guy would breadcrumb me (just learned that terminology – thanks Tik Tok) and then ghost me when I would ask ‘what time?’ to his ‘let’s hang out today’ texts. When he did end up showing up, we had the best time – I really loved being around him, but when I called him out on his lack of time management and poor communication (gently asking him to respect my time) he snapped at me so loudly and harsh that at that point I knew I couldn’t see him again.

    The third guy fucked me really well, asked me to do something a little advanced the following day over text and when I confided that I would need to take it a little slower he said that it was now ‘too complicated’ and bid me farewell.

    The fourth guy was my most consistent because it was *chefs kiss* and he played into all my fantasies…but the first time we spent real time together outside of my apartment he picked me up in his truck and when I hopped in he said, “Oh god, I’m going to have to check my suspension – you just moved the whole truck jumping in.” He proceeded to nit-pick me the entire night until I snapped at him to shut up or he wouldn’t get laid (I was really horny-don’t judge me for staying lol). He then turned inward, got defensive and pouty saying, “this is just my personality, but I guess you can’t handle it”.

    Then the fifth guy. In bed I would ask for different positions that made me feel good – he would do them for *literally* 5 seconds before he would change back into a position he enjoyed more. The time before, I told him I was about to cum and then he came two seconds later, walked away to grab a towel before plopping down on my bed and telling me how tired he was. I called him out on all of this and instead of acknowledging or apologizing he said, “I thought you came (referring to both nights). I didn’t realize you’ve been having such an unpleasant time.” Words I didn’t use, but ones he felt appropriate to deflect on what I was actually saying – genuine communication around what I need.

    I did in turn explain to him what the cues are for a woman’s orgasm as a little nugget of passively condescending advice that I genuinely think he needed to hear from someone – because how the fuck could he have thought I came either one of those times.

    My pussy swiped left so hard – bye bye.

    In summation, my feelings had become deprioritized for their comfortability.

    So tonight, after getting into my car (he did not walk me there and a homeless man jumped out of a bush and scared the shit out of me – so cherry on top), I cried so hard I had a panic attack. I then proceeded to scream in intervals on the way home.

    Scream for the rage I had built up over the course of these two months feeling like I had signed up to be used by these men all because I put “short-term relationship” on my dating profile.

    Regardless, I think I’ve experienced enough sex and am ready to put my feelings in a jar for someone who can take care of them the right way.

    I feel sad.

    I feel a twinge in my gut for all the confrontation I had during the ‘break-ups’, for lack of better words, that I aimed to be cordial, but took turns into uncomfortable territory.

    I feel uncertain because some of these boys were really good at gaslighting my feelings and making me feel as if I was in the wrong.

    I feel scared that perhaps this is just what the dating world is like, regardless of my relationship request status.

    I feel sad.

    I feel sad.

    I feel sad.

  • Understanding My Body at 30: A Post Break Up Health Epiphany

    I feel like I’m late. Late figuring out how my body works, and how it’s been operating all this time without my knowledge. Ironically, my period is extra late in result.

    Funny enough (and where it started) I got an IUD and a fertility test in the same week.

    I spent about a week researching IUDs to pick the best one, then I spent the rest of the week researching my new PCOS diagnosis from my follicle / AMH count from the fertility test. A diagnosis that explains my irregular periods that every PCP told me not to worry about and that it was completely normal. Though common – not normal, I hate them for that.

    Not only do I have PCOS, but during my IUD appointment I had a pap done at the same time, spontaneously as just like a ‘why not?’ only to find out that I have a high-level of precancerous cells on my cervix and that they need to do a biopsy and most likely a LEEP procedure – though I tested negative for HPV. My doctor is confused.

    As you might imagine I’m processing, and my cervix is fucking pissed from the IUD and now this biopsy.

    How long have I had PCOS and not noticed the symptoms? How long have I had these precancerous cells – my last pap came back normal just two years ago. False negative? What is happening?

    On top of all this, recently I realized that I want to have kids – not now, but when I’m 35+. With this LEEP procedure it shaves off a part of my cervix and with PCOS it makes conceiving extra intentional. If I have a second LEEP procedure down the road the difficulty increases.

    I keep thinking that If I was still in my last relationship that I most likely would have never sought out this information. The IUD wouldn’t haven’t happened, therefor the pap wouldn’t have happened since I wasn’t due for one. The fertility appointment wouldn’t have happened since I knew she didn’t want to have kids, which means I wouldn’t have learned about PCOS.

    I would have cruised under the radar for who knows how long.

    Sometimes I make myself nervous. Initially for not exploring my true wants and desires and staying with her too long, letting myself be discontent. It impacted my need to explore my sexual health.

    I feel like I have been in a two-month long sex-ed/women’s biology class that I didn’t realize I very much needed.

    What feels sad is when I discussed all this with my mom, she didn’t have any answers either – in fact she freaked me out with her biopsy procedure she had 30 years ago saying it was ‘traumatic’. Funny/not funny enough she told me that story the day before I found out I needed one myself.

    Every time I think about all of this, I feel a twinge of sadness in my heart at the possibility that maybe a baby might never happen for me, especially if I wait 5-7 years like I had planned. What could happen in those years that make my chances even smaller if I didn’t realize I was already carrying two burdens now at just 30.

    I didn’t realize how much it meant to me until I let myself actually explore it. Being with her the last 6 years and knowing she didn’t want a baby or even to get married, I almost let myself stay concrete in her choices because I wanted us to be together. I remember I would feel guilty about questioning it because it would be me going back on my word to her that, that wouldn’t change.

    It wasn’t until we broke up and I realized that everything was a possibility that I began to open myself up to exploring it even if I had conditioned myself to repress it. I let myself think about it, like really think about it. I watch my couple friends with their kid, my other friend doing it alone, watch my brother with his three kids struggling financially – looking at very difficult sides of parenting vs really beautiful moments understanding that there will always be both.

    If we hadn’t broken up, I wouldn’t have explored being with men again and would have really missed out on how my body could feel, experiencing different types of sex and penetration. I wouldn’t have felt sexually liberated to try new things. I would have kept feeling small.

    I would have kept feeling small.

    I would have kept feeling like my wants, needs and desires were not worth exploring – not allowed. I would have kept smoking copious amounts of pot, letting myself watch hours of TV and play hours of video games, let myself stay cooped up at home scared of interacting with other people, reading my smut books and living through their experiences – wishing for my own.

    I would have been perpetuating an unhealthy, unsatisfied lifestyle.

    I know I’m processing and admittedly having a hard time with it, but I still pick now. I pick figuring out my PCOS and these precancerous cells and the symptoms of this IUD then to ever go back there again.

    I pick having really great sex with multiple guys who teach me new things about what I like, don’t like and what I want to ask for.

    I pick the confidence I’ve gotten from throwing myself into uncomfortable, social situations and seeing my personality grow and expand in a way I really didn’t know existed.

    I pick now, even with the hurt and confusion.

    I pick now for me, then and now.