Creating Peace From the Pieces

My story does have a happy ending, but my journey here was a turbulent one. Occasionally, a random thought will blow my memory calendar open to a date long past. I reflect upon those moments, reaching for understanding. Here and there, I am able to grasp hold of a little clarity into why my younger self made the decisions I made.

I didn’t want to be WITH a man. It was crucial to me that I kept hold of my autonomy and I felt that a man would most likely control my every move. After I’d been free of my childhood home for a few months though, I discovered how very easily I could control men as they thought to coerce me into their hearts or more likely, beds. Eighteen years of living under emotional lock and key in a cult captivity still weighed heavily on me, and I was doing my best to balance out the scale. I pretended to be up front about my intentions, claiming that I was a lesbian with absolutely no desire to touch a man. Of course, I knew without a doubt, that most men would view my claim as a challenge. I was offensive and crass in my language, enjoying every minute of cosplaying as “one of the dudes”, while simultaneously maintaining a perfectly groomed and sensually dressed appearance. I viewed most of my friendships with men as a game of sexual roulette. What could I make them do in their covert mission to turn the lesbian straight? How far would they go before becoming bored or broken? It wasn’t a dating game or a ploy for me to enjoy free dinners. I paid for my own meals. I bought my own drinks, and often drinks for everyone with me. I gave lap dances in clubs, making sure to walk away just as they thought they might enjoy more later than my dance movements. What I enjoyed about it all was being in absolute control. Men masked frustration with humor about me being their “wingman”. They didn’t know how to win a girl over without utilizing a facade of chivalry, and I watched with vengeful interest. I was unobtainable sex with a swagger.

I faded in and out of a few relationships with women I loved, but as soon as those crumbled, I was back in the game. 

Eventually, my thrill of control craved new challenges. I reconnected with an old love interest and took a plane to visit him in his college dorm. He ended up high the whole time, and somehow I became enamored with his roommate. Some say that losing one’s virginity is simply something to get over with, and others believe it’s a more impactful event. I align with the latter claim. For a few weeks, we did keep in touch, and I thought I loved the guy. However, distance combined with my distain of being tied down won, and I cut myself free.

I tell that little story only to show a vague turning point in my sex games. I still claimed to be a lesbian. In my warped view, I saw women as relationship material and men as playthings for when I needed to distract myself from a wounded heart. I was terrified of diseases and pregnancy, so rarely did one make it past my forcefield of faked flirtation and into my bed. It had to be interesting and of course happen on MY terms. I had a penchant for finding crushes from my teen years and watching in delight as they stumbled over themselves to gain the attention of the homely-turned-hot sexual revenant from highschool days. I slept with the guy who’d been my brother’s “hot older friend”. I seduced the guy who, knowing I liked him, had broken my heart by kissing my best friend. I had no interest in dating any of them. It wasn’t their fault but I didn’t have the emotional capacity to care.

I couldn’t get revenge on the men who truly robbed me of my sweetness, so the next best action was to conquer and crush other men who’d looked straight through me when my childhood life made me all but invisible. I couldn’t go back in time and fight back. Young me would never have an opportunity to reach out to the right help. Someone needed to feel as confused and unseen as I had. My God-given guardians had done such a splendid job instilling inflexible gender roles in me, that I saw all men to be clones of the same angry, gross, control-abusing monsters I was familiar with. If that was their role in the world, mine would be to fight back with the only weapons I had seen women utilize: sex and manipulation.