Let's talk about S E X

Popping your cherry, losing your innocence, de-flowering; what ever you call it, your first time is a big deal. My first time was a huge deal to me, and unfortunately is something I wish I could forget. It was so excruciatingly awkward and ridiculous that I’ve filed it in the deep recesses of my brain where it is sealed and dead bolted.  

After watching countless romance movies and listening to the only girl in my Grade 8 class who had, had sex “at least 10 times” proclaiming how “incredible” it was, I was convinced that my first time would be something dreams were made of.  I day dreamed about it over and over again in my head. I had every last detail planned down to what type of underwear I would be wearing. I had everything except for the most important part; who the love of my life would be.

It would be exactly like the movies… I didn’t see it happening any other way. 

I was 15 years old when I met the love of my life and we (well, mostly me) fell madly in love for two whole weeks. I was stunned one night when he msn’ed me at home telling me he didn’t think our relationship would work because I lived too far away, and we wouldn’t get to see each other after school. I was devastated and cursed my life in hick ville. I was desperate and would do anything to get him back.

So, ignoring the pedestal that I had put my sex dream on, I told him I wanted to “make love” with him. (Seriously, who calls it making love these days?) Being that he was 16, and full of hormones, he agreed.

The date and time were set. The plan was to go to his house after school on the Friday of Semi-Formal and do the dirty deed. I felt oddly nervous and uneasy, not at all how I thought I would feel when I pictured it in my head.

D-Day finally came, and I couldn’t concentrate at all during school. My mouth was dry and I had that weird knot in the pit of my stomach. When 3:30pm rolled around I waited timidly at the front entrance of the school for my Romeo so we could walk to his house. He showed up right on time and we walked in dead silence down the street. After what seemed like an hour we finally got to his house. As we walked down the stairs to his room he muttered something about the cleaning lady not showing up that day and his room would be messy, but I could care less.

‘Why wasn’t I excited?’ I wondered, trying to ignore the flip flops in my stomach and the weird buzzing sound in my head that somehow seemed to block out all sounds.

The time finally came and we awkwardly discarded our clothes, careful not to stare too hard at the other’s body parts. I won’t give you the details of our five whole minutes of love making, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that after what I thought would be the most mind blowing, insane experience of my life to date, I lay there in bed, staring up at the dots on the ceiling with tears welling up in my eyes. These were not tears of joy, or the immense love that I felt for my partner, but tears of sadness and humiliation. It wasn’t until after we had sex I realized that I had given myself to someone who didn’t really care for me, and that my carefully planned and detailed dream was washed down the drain.

If only I could tell my 15 year old self what I know now. I would tell her that sex can’t be planned to the last detail… because if you plan it, you will be disappointed. Sex is supposed to be a wonderful, mind-blowing experience, but don’t expect that to happen on the very first time. It can eventually become great, but it doesn’t truly become that that way until you’re with someone you love with every inch of your body. I’m not saying you have to wait until you are married… just ask yourself why you want to do it. Is it really love?   

I would tell her to wait. Be patient. Don’t give it up to someone to just try and win him back or make him love you. You will regret it in the future.

The reality is, I can’t go back in time and tell my 15 year old self what I know now. I can however break out the Barbie and Ken doll and have the sex conversation with my daughter, and hope that when she gets to be 15 years old she will make a better decision then I did. 

Butterflies and Hurricanes: Muse

Cheers,

M

Good Blog

Just found this blog online... might be good to take a peek at it.

http://teenissuesblog.com/category/about-teen-issues-blog/

Stylo-Gorillaz


Cheers,
M

I am a chicken.

Does anyone else out there sometimes feel like they're just going through life like a chicken with its head cut off? That's how I felt today.

I was at my job, teaching ESL to five 16 year old girls from Japan... and they were all sitting there just staring at me, they didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I kept trying to explain myself.. I was using gestures, writing instructions down (it was like a game of Pictionary for god sakes)... they still had no clue. I don't know how some teachers make it look so easy.. they just get up there and explain everything so easily. I guess I can't give up so quickly though... I mean I only started this job about a month ago..but I feel so out of my element and so uncomfortable standing up there in front of those girls.

After leaving today (I pretty much sprinted out of the high school), I just kept asking myself  if I'll ever be so lucky to find a job that I love to do... something I am passionate about. I don't even know what that word means anymore... passionate. What am I passionate about? Ugh. Stress. Does anybody else think as much as I do about passion? Nothing scares me more then waking up every morning for the next thirty years going to a job that I hate.

Anyway, after my mini-meltdown on the drive home I reminded myself that I am only 24 years old. From a young age I was groomed in school to "figure out what you want to do! You have to have a profession! You have to decide a major in University!"I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. I'm on my way to finishing my Bachelor of Arts in English.... and you know why I finally chose that major? I have no idea if it's what I will love, I just know that I have to have some sort of degree to even have a chance at getting a job I might love.

For those of you who know what you want to do with your life... congratulations... I think you're extremely lucky to know that.. For the rest of us... I hope that with a little bit of luck (and education) we actually won't mind waking up at 7:00am every morning to go to a job.. because it's something we love to do.

Hello, I'm in Deleware: City and Colour

Cheers,
M.

new playlist up...

Check it out.

I put some bands on there from different countries.. to broaden your music knowledge..
Kashmir is from Denmark, they are sick, you really need to listen to the music.
Kent is from Sweden, different language, but you can still appreciate the musicianship.
Crash Kings are this new band I just discovered from L.A area I think.

Hope you like em'

400: Kent

Cheers,
M

girls girls girls...listen up

Okay, listen very carefully..... this is from a place of experience.


These articles that claim to "make him love you" do not work, and I can't stand them because you can do everything the article tells you to do, and the guy of your dreams will still ignore you. You can't make someone love you... unless you have a magic fairy dust that you sprinkle in his morning java that suddenly makes him fall head over heals for you. (If someone has that, please let me know because I'd love to use it on Johnny Depp).


Just a word of the wise. I know it's so cliche to say this, and I almost cringe.. but just be yourself, don't be fake, most of all be patient and don't go in to overkill (meaning don't be a stalker).  If the guy of your dreams doesn't love you back, then screw him... he's not worth it, and move on.


just a little morning rant for your viewing pleasure.


Mountain Man: Crash Kings


Cheers,
M.

Some light reading.

As of late, I have discovered a real fondness for writing... hence the blog. 


I started writing articles on ezinearticles.com about growing up, shit that's happened to me etc.. It's a fairly healing experience, and it's dug up a lot of pent up feelings that I didn't know I had. Something to consider for yourselves? What works for one person, might not necessarily work for another but give it a shot. 


The only real problem I've had is that ezines doesn't like you to use swear words.. you have to keep it PG. But not on my blog!! I wouldn't call it R rated, maybe like a 14+? 


I don't expect all of you to click the link to read each and every article, so I'm going to post something I've written from time to time in hopes that you enjoy it. 


Even if you thinks it's a piece of shit, let me know... but let me down gently.. I'm over-sensitive lately.

Here's the first one... 


Size Four

I'm not sure how I managed to have a good self body image growing up, maybe because the tag on my pants said "size four" and when I looked in the mirror I liked the way my clothes fit me. I remember on the way back from a track and field training week in Alabama where I went up to the front of the bus to get a sandwich from my coach.

"Don't you think you've had enough already?" She replied hiding the sandwiches under the seat. "You've already had two."

I was denied a stupid little sandwich. I think my jaw dropped when she said that to me, but instead of fighting it, I just went back to my seat and sat in disbelief that someone could say that to me with a straight face. What I really wanted to do was grab the whole tupperware container of those stupid little sandwiches and stuff my face. I wanted to get fat out of spite. I wished I were fat... I don't think anybody has ever thought that before. I just don't know how anyone, especially a "mature" adult could say that to a teenaged girl. I hated my coach for that.

Then, one night not long afterward the first incident I heard my parents talking about my "growing butt" downstairs when they thought I was out of ear shot. It got me wondering, how many other "disappointments" do they talk about behind my back? How many other times have they discussed me and my tendency to "act out" and my "serious personal issues" as Dad put it to people who dressed in black and had earrings in their noses. Just because someone has an earing in their nose and spikey hair doesn't make them any worse than anyone else. Sometimes the people who are what you call "different" are the sanest people out there. Look at me. I don't have the black clothes or hair, I dress fairly conservatively and I am probably more screwed up than a lot of people out there.

Hearing my parents discuss my body downstairs got me so enraged. With tears pouring down my face I stripped off all my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. What did I see? I saw a young woman who was too tall with scraggly blonde hair, too many freckles but a body that I was proud of. So, I did what I should have done to my coach a few weeks prior. I marched downstairs, grabbed a whole container of ice cream from the fridge and a box of chocolate cookies and started filling my face right in front of them. My parents were looking at me like I had lost my mind.

"What is your problem?" Questioned my Mom with obvious concern on her face. I took a deep breath mustered up some courage and shouted. "The next time you two want to fucking discuss my growing behind do it out of earshot!!" and with that I stomped upstairs to polish off my container of ice cream in solitude. It didn't take five minutes for them to come upstairs where we sat, cried and talked about the importance of appreciating your own unique beauty. I have great parents.

Do not in a million years let anyone whether it be a friend, that bully in school or even an adult make you feel embarrassed about your body. Don't let anyone influence your decision to change the shape of your body because only you can do that in a healthy and safe way.

Luckily, I never suffered from anorexia or bulimia and even though the tag on the back of my pants might have gone up a couple of sizes, I am still proud of the body I have and wouldn't change it for anyone.

E-Pro: Beck

Something's Different!

No no.. I didn't get a hair cut.... I managed to figure out how to add a play list to my blog.

Yay me!

Anyway, it's just some tunes I've been listening to of late. Some of them old, some new.. some quirky, some not...

Enjoy!

Cheers,
M

Black Heart: Hey Rosetta