From ABC to BOY (Chapter 1)

I don’t know whether to tell you about things as of now or start from back when I was a teenager, which now when I think about it logically was a LONG time ago! Before I put pen to paper, well finger to keyboard being sixteen only seemed like last week. But in reality is in fact eleven years ago! So, I’ll tell you the interesting bits mixed in with the boring bits which makes the brilliant cocktail I call LIFE!

I suppose the whole reason I’m writing this is to deal with the one major thing that’s fucked up my mental state for the last I don’t know eight to ten years! No need to ask what that is as we all know there’s only one of a few things that can make u lose your mental state.  Apart from actual mental illness that is!

1. For us females MEN and for you males WOMEN (which still has men in it so to be honest I think they are just life’s overall problem! I joke I joke!)

2. Lending a friend or family member money. That can pull on your mental health strings a bit.  Suddenly find that they’re actually completely unreliable and sneaky in regards to giving you your money back, funny those qualities never show themselves before!

3. A friend getting into sexual relations with a family member or another close friend.  Eight out of ten times this in itself is a recipe for disaster!

My mental illness stems from point number 1!

So from the beginning we go!

In my younger days, around the time of being in secondary school I got a substantial amount of attention from a few different boys.  Not just boys from my school who would get excited if you’re knee high sock fell down! But that kind of attention where they would be trying to get to know you, I assume puberty had started to kick in and now girls were the thing to do, literally! Boys were actually starting to speak to me whilst walking home or trying to get my attention on the bus, boys from different schools were interested too!  What a confidence boost.  I’m glad I got male attention when I was younger.  It prepares you for the future.  All the ugly girls in school who the boys never really paid any attention to, left school and started giving their vaginas away like a prize in a raffle that everyone had the winning ticket to! Bad times!

Before the attention started I used to feel ugly.  I had to wear big clunky shoes to school and unflattering tailored boy’s trousers.  Would always have my hair in some form of silly plaited variation because my mum still used to do it for me and obviously hadn’t realised it wasn’t the 80’s anymore and I was no longer in primary school!  I was shy but smart so felt like a nerd.  Not your classic nerd but near enough.  If I didn’t have the circle of friends I had I don’t know what I would have done because I wouldn’t speak to anyone new.  Attention was all foreign territory for me, the most I was used to, was boys from my school looking at me in Physical Education because I used to wear a really short tennis skirt on purpose.  That was the beauty of having an older sister who had to have the same uniform as you four years prior, gave me the heads up on school clothes that no one else would have, albeit hand me downs!  The best way the boys from my school would show their interest in you was by pushing you over to grope you whilst helpless and screaming on the floor.  Funny thing about it was they would never actually grope any of the good bits.  You would just have loads of pokes and fingers digging your arms and legs.  I assume the rugby scrum of about 6-7 boys all on top of one girl whilst she screamed was somewhat of a sex education lesson the teachers were never going to give you!

What did I know about boys?

I was very much a family orientated kind of girl.  I didn’t go to the local youth centres or after school clubs.  I liked to be with my cousins and other family members.  I started going out places with my friends, hanging around with them properly not just staying at home.  When I say ‘going places’ the most we would venture to was a local park or we would go and play out with other people, mostly walk around the local area and see other kids walking around the local area. We walked a lot! Walking was cool! My style changed from tomboyish to experimental young girl.  I got creative with my hair and started using hair gel, to stick most of my hair to my face like the other girls did, doing random hairstyles that only girls and boys of my age group and era appreciated at that time!  I would wake up early every morning to do my hair so I didn’t have the same style everyday.  Back then I thought it looked so good, damn the boys who used to fancy me and make me feel like my shit never stank, because when I look back at any picture evidence of those hairstyles I want to vomit! I find it amazing thinking back, how boys can make your persona change.  Before boys I liked to do school work, did all my homework on time and enjoyed being at school.  Then when the male attention rolled in, academic driven me rolled out.  Not completely, but enough to stop the homework being handed in on time and the carefully designed presentations I used to give in became non-existent.  I didn’t  miss the old me, I still don’t because I was obviously growing up and everything you do as a child and later in life as an adult shapes you into the person you are before you die.  However, if I had realised back then what I know about guys now, I wouldn’t have placed so much life emphasis on them at that particular time and would have kept my school work and studies my main priority.

My first ‘boyfriend’ to speak of, who wasn’t really a proper boyfriend at all, he was a guy from another school when I was about fifteen.  The ‘relationship’ was childish but thinking about it now it wouldn’t have been anything other then childish, I was a child and I was as frigid as a board!  I would never go and meet him alone I would always bring my friends along so you can imagine I wouldn’t let him feel me up, which he wouldn’t be amused by as he was older then me and wasn’t a virgin like I was.  I was really self conscious of my breasts. They were small and I was surrounded by friends who were at least a C cup and over, I was just coming out of training bras!  Can u imagine my horror if he had taken off my bra and seen the A cup label inside, I would’ve died on the spot.  Me and my small breasts DEAD! I’m happy to say that at the age I am now I am finally comfortable with my breasts.  Whoever doesn’t like to look at my mosquito bites really doesn’t have to and with the aid of socks and chicken fillets I have the breasts I want! So I don’t give a hot shit what anyone else thinks about them, they’re mine and I figure if a bitch has something to say in regards to hers being bigger then mine, I’ll put them in her boyfriends mouth! (Rant over)

One weekend I went to this then ‘boyfriends’ house, he had asked me to stay over that night so I agreed.  I knew he probably wanted to have sex with me but as far as I was concerned he knew I didn’t want to, I had told him before on numerous occasions that I didn’t want to, I had never let him put anything anywhere near me so why would he try!?  I thought he cared, I thought he listened. I still went as he was my boyfriend after all and I didn’t want to look like a child to him as he was older then me and if I’m honest I ran out of any feasible excuse so I had to go.  His mum had gone away for the weekend so we relaxed a lot, watched T.V whilst snuggled up on the sofa. It was a nice weekend, he cooked dinner but I refused to eat anything. I was young and at that time as a teen I wouldn’t eat in front of boys, No wonder I was so skinny!  One of the nights it got exceedingly late and I was letting him have a quick over the clothes fondle.  We were kissing but I wouldn’t let him go under my shirt, so he tried to undo my trousers but I wouldn’t let him.  I had let him finger me before at my friends house but I didn’t like it, he was too vocal, would talk to me about if I liked it and would tell me to ‘just relax’.  Not being at all funny, but why would I enjoy you trying to stick your hand up my vagina?!  It’s a common misconception that we as females enjoy this, some of us do.  Most of us don’t! So at fifteen the thought of someone putting their fingers into the depths of my lady bits, rooting around as if to find gold was not appealing to me at all. And I’m still yet to know what physical pleasure fingering a girl has on a man? If your fingers were where the sensation was you’d suck them a lot rather then having a wank! I was still coming to terms with having to wear thongs and have them invade my arse all day, a finger in my vagina, way too much!

He got very annoyed. I remember being dragged down off the sofa by my legs onto the floor with a thud! All I remember after that was him dragging me around his wooden floor by my trousers.  I couldn’t believe it, was this real? Was he actually doing this?  It was like the devil had taken over his whole body.  I could see the anger in his face and the determination in his eyes and could feel the force of how hungry he was to get my trousers off, I was really scared and it was completely silent.  There was no noise, he didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t shout and I couldn’t scream. Just Silence. He dragged me across the floor and I held onto my jeans with every last bit of strength I could muster.  He was not getting into my knickers.  I was not getting raped today or any other.  He managed to get my trousers down to my upper thigh whilst I was still kicking and struggling.  I can remember how I kept sliding along the wooden floor. It was like being on an ice rink with no ice skates.  I slid from one side of the floor to the other bouncing off the sofas.  I remember those sofas, leather, cream coloured and cold.  I remember holding on to the top of my black jeans so tightly it started to hurt the tips of my fingers, but I refused to let go.  My thumbs holding onto the inside of my knickers and all my fingers pressed tightly into the thick jean material.  My fingers, my grasp were literally the only thing that stopped the worst happening.  When I finally managed to scream ‘get OFF!’ it was like he immediately snapped back to reality.  He just knelt by my feet and looked at me somewhat shocked, somewhat gormless but it wasn’t a feeling of shame or embarrassment, more of a feeling of damn I didn’t succeed.  I fixed myself up in silence and left.  I always wondered what would have happened if I wasn’t as strong as I was.  If I had let go of my trousers would I have been raped?  If I had let go of my trousers would he have actually done that to me?  Glad I never found out.

That day was never mentioned between either of us again.  Vanished, it was like it had never happened.  We never officially had the ‘you’re dumped’ conversation but I just stopped being his girlfriend.  I stopped answering his phone calls and replying to his texts so I figure he got the message.  We’ve always spoken since. I never held it against him.  Not completely sure why, I think I was possibly too scared to realise the intensity of what could have actually happened to me, or possibly I just tried to forget. I think the incident was the unspoken reason we broke up.  I think he scared me right out of like for him.  But…I can admit to part of it being because I had seen someone else who tickled my fancy.

I was now comfortable with the fact that I was turning into a young lady rather then a child.  I was now someone who got the guy and I could have relationships.  Even though this boyfriend was nothing serious I knew what to expect now.  The male species wanted to get physical.  I had the option to give them what they wanted or keep it to myself. Boys wanted to fuck! Other girls of fifteen had sex, but I knew I didn’t want to until I met Mr. Right and when I knew I was having a proper relationship.  When I would have one I didn’t know but the search had now begun.