Thinking About First Times
- on Jan 09, 2023
I am loving Violet’s prompts for January Jumpstart. I’m also loving not exactly following them and just using them as a jumping off point to ramble about my own thing. Yesterday’s prompt got me thinking about my first sexual experiences and whether or not I wish they’d been different.
I tend to break my first time down into two experiences. My first sexual contact with another person to the extent that I would call it sex was with the first girl I ever kissed. I was then exclusively sexually active with women for a few years. So when I first had sex with a man I consider that my second first time.
Neither experience was mind blowing, though neither were bad and honestly I have never felt anything about them other than neutral. I didn’t have any urge to wait for my first time to be special. I didn’t then and I still don’t have any connection or sentimental feeling towards my ‘virginity’. For me, it was simply a case of not having done certain things and then I had done them.
I feel blessed that my experiences were safe, my choice and entirely my own business. I know many people aren’t that lucky and I think my ability to be so ambivalent towards those experiences is partly because they were so very regular that they just don’t require much thought or feeling being attached to them.
The sexual encounters I wish were different are the ones I regret a little, the ones that were in some ways a bit less pleasant. I try hard not to have regrets. I like to make my peace with things and accept they’ve shaped me in some way and move on, but there are two sexual partners that were just really bad decisions and I am incredibly lucky they are just cringe worthy looking back and not situations that could have put me in danger.
The first one I’ve never actually blogged about but I’ve told many people in real life and without fail people just say ‘what the fuck’. I once met a woman on plenty of fish who lived a couple of hours away, but we really hit it off and after a bit of back and forth I traveled to meet her. She seemed lovely, had an accent to die for and we had lots of fun planned for the weekend.
Unfortunately it all went a bit sideways when we went out for a few drinks. We were in a LGBTQ venue and a young guy was telling us about finishing university and being out celebrating. When my date went to the toilet he completely randomly kissed me. He was promptly pushed away but not before someone saw and went straight to my date to tell on me. She proceeded to drag me out of the club by my hair and yelled at me in the street for being a typical dirty bisexual. Now I am bisexual and I am dirty, but she wasn’t saying it in the good way, she was saying it in a nasty biphobic way.
Now, had I been sober I would have driven straight home and told her fuck off. I was not sober and we’d taken a taxi to the next town over, had a hotel booked and so I wasn’t near my car and my stuff was in two different places. I decided the best thing to do was sleep it off, call it quits the next day and just drive home having learnt quite a few lessons. How I went from that mindset to us ducking, I will never know, but we did and I wish we hadn’t.
That encounter is the closest I’ve ever come to feeling humiliated and degraded without it being kink related. She was clearly disgusted by the fact I was openly bisexual, she hated that I wouldn’t admit to my marrying a man being a mistake and the first chance she got she threw my entire sexuality in my face as reason I wasn’t fit to fuck. But she still did it and I wasn’t hurt, or forced but she didn’t do it in a nice way if that makes sense. She made me feel dirty in a bad way and that was not okay.
The second sexual partner I wish I could change was also my first proper experience with BDSM and unfortunately this went on for months rather than being a one off. With this it wasn’t necessarily what we did or how we did it but the person was a really bad choice. I don’t think this is the post to list the reasons why he was a bad choice, but I will say my time with him is the only time I feel ashamed of myself when I look back on my life.
So while my actual first times don’t take up space in my brain very often, sometimes other first times do. I don’t dwell on them anymore but occasionally I’ll be reminded of them and it’s like hearing someone else’s stories because both experiences feel so far removed from who I was before and who I am now. Both encounters happened when I was in a not so great place in life and that was definitely part of my poor decision making.
We live and learn though and even though I look back occasionally and think ‘oh god, why?’ those experiences definitely taught me a lot and also highlighted that I wasn’t quite myself and I needed to see that so I could get back on track, which I absolutely did and that meant I could have some awesome first times with some awesome people, but those tales are for another day.