It's times like right now that I'm glad my blog is anonymous because I know how risky this post is and terrifying to write. But, I did say the purpose of the blog was not merely for self discovery and not even to be understood but to perhaps give something to whoever chooses to read this. This post is intense, probably a little inappropriate and very messed up. I can't say I know exactly why I'm writing it. Obviously not for attention because no one knows me. Mainly to give people an insight into the concept of mistakes. I'm going to put it down to wanting to say it, properly. To get it out and not look back because no one, not even the other girl I was with knows the full story. It's scary, very scary and very off putting too. That's life though. There's not much I can do about that. I use my past as an excuse to justify my actions in the future and I need to stop doing that. Maybe if I can get it all out that'd be the easiest place to start. So like I said, this post is messed up and I know it's going to come with judgement because I would judge the fuck out of anyone who told me this story. But I know, that I don't have to justify myself to anyone and yeah. That's all
As we get older, the topic of sex becomes so much less secret and rarely ever is there little school girl moments of gasps and giggles from the listening crowds. I first noticed this in 2011 when I hooked up with a girl at a party, so ready to come to school the next week never being able to hear the end of it, but nothing happened, no one said a thing. So as we come of age, I hear more stories about peoples' first times. Some of the time, it consists of people telling me that it was a friend or even more rarely, someone they'd just met. Perhaps it's the type of people I surround myself with now, but most of the 'first time' stories are ones that are quite normal. Relationship led to sex. No big deal, it's just the way things work. Well, here's my first voluntary time story.
2007
It was a Tuesday night, I'd been living on the streets for about two weeks now and I thought that the girl that I'd been with, who for the purpose of her anonymity we will call Sammy, and I should go find a party or something to do. We stole 'no doze' from the 711 and took them. I don't really remember the transition from normal to caffeinated. I do remember however; feeling so jittery and shaky. I'd like to be able to describe it but I don't think a reasonable number of coffees could do so. We jumped on a train from Cronulla to Miranda to see if anything good was happening. I remember what I was wearing so vividly. I had high waisted black denim shorts on with my school blouse tucked in. This was just a white button up shirt. We spent a fair bit of time just roaming the streets, which honestly, wasn't much different from what I'd been doing the past few weeks. A few guys came up to us, obviously drunk from the bar they just exited and suggested we sneak in and have a few drinks with them. After many efforts to try and jump the fence, the security became aware of our existence and chased us away. Although, their efforts weren't great considering one of them genuinely fit the security/police stereotype to a tee.
After that failed attempt we got back on a train to Cronulla and walked around for a little bit. Eventually we gave up and decided to get on the last train back to the city and go find a place to sleep for the night. As we walked onto the platform, two guys walked past. One of them was a skinny bloke with tattoos all up his arms and a messy haircut. The other; clean cut, buff and very very good looking. So just as we were about to get on the train, they yelled out 'give us some leg' - I just laughed it off and got on the train. Then, something clicked in me. I stepped off the train and asked 'how much' - had facebook been around back then, the girl sitting on the platform seat would have had a very popular status. I don't know what it was that caused me to say such a thing. Maybe it was because I was poor, probably not. I think it was because I wanted to know what real sex was like. What it was like giving consent to such a thing. What it felt like when you want it. The skinny guy, who we later learn to be called Brett suggests '$50?' and before we knew it we were both on the train, in the upstairs carriage giving two random boys we had just met, head!
We got off the train at Caringbah. All of us. We walked around for a bit, Sammy and I wanting to get rid of these guys we had just met and given blow jobs too so we told them we should probably head back home.
Brett and his mate Luke then suggested that they could up the price if we slept with them. So once again, I put myself in another stupid position by saying yes. We went into a public toilet in the middle of a football field, and proceeded to get with these boys. Sammy didn't want to actually have sex with them, so she gave them head in-between them taking turns with me. After that, Luke left to go somewhere and Brett took Sammy and I back to his house. He gave us alcohol and cigarettes and told us that it's probably a good thing Luke left as he was getting married in 5 days. You know what would be the appropriate thing to say right now? It'd be appropriate for me to say how guilty I felt. How horrible it was that I had slept with another persons fiance. That I had done that to her. But I didn't give a shit. It didn't even bother me. Sammy was visibly disturbed by it so she left the room for a bit. Brett spoke to me about our age. We had previously lied about being 16 and in hindsight, he totally knew we weren't 16 since he told us a story about how 13 year olds tricked him into sleeping with them saying they were 17. I was 12, I was concerned that I was sleeping with what he claimed to be a 21 year old. Then, he told me he was 27 years old and I laughed. Sammy was still out of the room and Brett put on a porn movie. It wasn't a romantic one, it was one where the guy was tying ropes around the girls neck, holding her under a tap and 'raping' her. I was having memories of my experience, so I asked him to 'get out of me' and turn off the video. He did it and then returned to the bed where we continued what we were doing. I was drunk, Brett was stoned. It was not too bad.
The next morning, we woke up, he gave us our money and walked us out of the house into a taxi. His neighbour was a police officer, so he did it very subtly.
Sammy and I went to McDonalds for breakfast and to reflect on what we'd just done. I wasn't concerned, I can't speak for her but she didn't look worried by it either.
I know that what we did was messed up.
It was technically illegal on their part, but it was 100% consensual.
I cannot bring myself to think about the fact that I slept with a man who was 5 days shy of being a husband. I don't have any emotions about it because I haven't really accepted that. Infact, I haven't really accepted any of this. Lots of my life recollections feel fake. Like it didn't really happen. This is predominantly because I learnt to disassociate myself with it. So as I recall it, it doesn't feel like I actually experienced it.
The purpose of this post was to let you know that we are all reckless and stupid when we're young. I do not regret this. I mean, it's probably something I should regret, but I've learnt that there's no point regretting things. I almost definitely would have preferred a different first time, but this experience has made me learn so much about the concept of sex and love, in more ways than can be described.
I know that it is basically disgusting that I slept with a 27 year old when I was 12. I know it makes me seem like a slut. I just hope that this story teaches people that we can never understand why people really do certain things. I don't even know why I did this but it was almost certainly not because I just wanted to 'put out' and have sex. Like I said, I wanted to give myself a better perspective of sex from what I had gained off my brother and honestly, this did such a thing. Brett and Luke treated us with such respect and kindness.
As we left, Brett told me not to feel guilty about Luke getting married because they were going to a brothel that night anyway. So yes, I was basically a prostitute. A whore. But that was a mistake I have had to come to terms with and I am now sharing to give you the vision that not many mistakes could be worse than this one and if I can accept it and not regret it, then you can too.
