Dan was first. It was surprisingly easy with Dan. I drove to his place, and he showed me around and we eventually landed in his bedroom. It was so hot. I was relieved to start taking my clothes off, and it came as a shock to me how easily he started to make love to me, gently, kindly, without any aggression, and asking for consent throughout. It was exactly what I was looking for, and exactly what I needed.
And I was grateful.
I didn’t feel pain.
I wasn’t sad.
I didn’t feel used.
I wasn’t upset.
And I was happy.
I could have sex without being drunk, and it could feel good, and there were men in the world who were willing to provide me with this experience, it turned out, over and over.
I know it sounds like I was advertising free sex.
And maybe I kind of sort of was.
But it was what I needed to heal.
And Dan was the first to heal me.
Then came Vinny.
Then sex and alcohol re-entered my life and I started making less than responsible decisions.
I kept my second rule of explaining what type of sex we would be having.
I was messaging men and meeting up with them on the same night I “met” them just to fuck and stay over in a bed that wasn’t my own.
The fourth rule was out the window because I was fucking someone new every night.
I hated my bed.
I couldn’t get over that I had been raped by a family friend and potential husband in that bed.
How could he do that with my Mom in the room that shared a wall with her’s?
All I remember of that incredibly bad Blackout is that I made sure he had a condom on.
I could not be in that fucking bed.
I tried to keep my sixth rule about safe sex, but ultimately, I failed.
Because I am sitting in the parking lot of my OBGYN. And I just got tested for the 3rd time for STDs. Way to be responsible, Autumn.
At least I haven’t gotten any UTIs.
What am I doing?
I am making dangerous choices.
I’m living on vodka and orange juice.
I’m tired of being fucked while drunk.
I’m hurting and numbing the pain with dangerous tools.