Dan, Dane, David, Husband, Jimmy, Sven, Viktor, Wyatt

I Was A Slut For Sleeping With Him

Write it down, I’m told. Anything you can remember, just write it down.

The thing is you want me to remember, to recall events, to be able to tell you about them – but you fail to understand that these particulars, the particulars I am ashamed of, were not that important to me. Not in the grand scheme of things in my life. He was a handful of months out of my life, at most.

I mean, it was important to me at the time. But the worst of it was actions or words I would forget within the 24 hours after they came out of me. I mean, I remember/ed the gist of what I’d done. Rarely of what I said… but I digress.

There are other men in my past that I can’t stop replaying events or conversations in my head. There are other men that it took me years to suppress memories. There are men that live rent free in my head, men that I had a lot more history with. Men that, for whatever reason, had a deeper effect on my psyche.

I hate to say it. I honestly do. I hate to say he didn’t mean much to me. Not in the way one would think anyway. Yes, I cared about him as a person… But… Sex is sex.

I honestly believe, as a part of my experiences… My coping mechanisms and learned behaviours from when I was a teenager… From what I know now is probably a side effect of my PTSD… I viewed sex as a given. Sex was a commodity not worth much, except that men wanted it and I was in the position to give it if they happened to want it from me. I had it ingrained in me that it was my job to make them happy… Or at the very least not angry with me. Sex was a small price to pay for safety. They wanted it, and I was apathetic to it… so I might as well.

I’ve written before, whether here or as a guest blogger, about my flippancy towards sexual topics. I’ve written about growing up thinking that my worth was literally in my appearance and whether or not I was attractive to men. My worth lied in the eyes of the men who wanted to bed me. It’s why I slept with Jimmy. It’s why I slept with Sven. Initially, It’s why I slept with Jason only a week or so into casually dating him.

Later, when we had been married, he told me – jokingly – that I was a slut for sleeping with him only a couple of dates in.

I mean, he didn’t have to say it. I knew. There was a reason those church ladies gossiped about my “promiscuity” with disdain.

All this is to say, I think that is why I did what I did with him. It’s why I did what I did with David. It’s why I totally would have stripped on the spot if Dan had ever asked me to when we were in high school, even if we had been fighting that week.

I was in low points in my life when I came across certain men. I felt worthless and hell bound. I felt that I needed validation — and in my warped sense of self, validation could only come from sex and/or sexual attraction.

I know this isn’t a valid answer to a request to remember. I have learned subconsciously long ago to compartmentalize these things. I remember and replay David in my head simply because of the trauma incurred from events with him, but also we had been friends for a long time first. We partied hard together that whole time. He was a fixture in my life back then. A real live, tangible fixture. He went hand in hand with Dane during those years, and we know how much Dane meant to me for much of my adult life.

I remember a lot of Wyatt, though some memories have faded over the years… I earned my PTSD badge from him, and again I was with him for a long time. I remember sex with Sven, Viktor, Jimmy… etc because I didn’t feel ashamed at the time that I climbed into their beds.

Deep down I was ashamed of myself with him. Deep down I knew what I was doing was wrong, even though he made me feel like I might be worth something. I still, deep down, was ashamed of being with him at all. I knew I shouldn’t be, but my body went into protection mode and compartmentalized everything that was going on, with the more shameful side of the relationship getting boxed up tight promptly with in mere minutes.

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