I kept a pretty detailed diary in 8th grade which included in embarrassing detail my sexual experimentation with a few of the boys in my class. The day that I got home from school, walked into the kitchen and saw my mom sitting at the table with the diary as it’s centerpiece will go down in history as one of the worst days of my life. I literally wanted to disappear. Apparently my brother tattled to my parents that there were some stories in our public junior high about me and my mom did the best worst thing she could have. In hindsight I can see the love in how my parents handled the situation. I didn’t get into “trouble”, my mom and I had a long honest talk and then I went to weekly therapy with my parents for a few months. Of course, I should have told the therapist about my 5th grade molestation but I still felt that my parents couldn’t handle that kind of pain so I didn’t. Such silly beliefs we hold when we are 13 years old. No child has the capacity to handle such things on their own – but 13 year olds don’t realize they are children.
At any rate, the discovery about my promiscuity with boys forced my parents to bring up the idea of transferring me to the Catholic Girls School for 9th grade. I resisted, I begged, I made a million promises if they would please not send me to that stuck up school! Then my junior high had a track meet against the girls school. I stood there with my friend Leanne watching the pretty, well groomed girls in their matching track suits warm up. Out of the blue, Leanne said “the girls at that school always get laid”. The rest is history. I went home that night and told my parents I was happy to switch schools. My mom was suspicious…she had recognized early on my ability to manipulate… but her hands were kind of tied with this. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. So off I went in my little uniform to join the class of 1988.
Leanne was wrong. The girls didn’t all get laid. But of course, I did. I lost my virginity mid way through my sophomore year to a senior with a girlfriend. I desperately wanted to have sex with this very popular guy and one night I was lucky enough to be offered a ride home from him after a keg party. We parked in a lot up the street from my parents house and had sex in the back seat of his parents car. By Monday morning the whole school knew…including the boys school which was across town from ours. For a while, I became the girl you went to if you wanted to have sex for the first time. Two boys lost their virginity with me because their girlfriends (my classmates) wouldn’t do it. So much for Leanne’s theory. When I was a junior, my friends older brother took me to a movie and then date raped me afterward. And senior year I fell a little in love with an outcast and we had sex the night before he moved away. He left behind a case of chlamydia to remember him by.
One would think that the displaced validation I felt when these boys ‘wanted’ me would have been outweighed by the negative affects on my reputation and health. But it didn’t. Being ‘easy’ started to define me and it was a label I decided to embrace. It made me feel different…and different can feel special.