I didn’t want to have sex.
That should have been enough. I informed him (my high school boyfriend) of my intentions, and he gaslit me about it right from the start. Not surprising, then, that he completely violated my boundaries on myriad occasions to follow.
Explaining my reasons (for not wanting to) proved futile, and he only used them against me (via the aforementioned gaslighting). However, as I process the trauma, I find it cathartic to delineate, for no one other than myself (and perhaps others who may relate) what my reasons were because I find it affirming. When I articulate why I protested against any sexual activity, I realize the depth of betrayal, the intensity of psychological torment, and the feelings of hopelessness I bore throughout those hellacious years. It empowers present day Me to nurture and comfort the past Me because past Me endured it all in isolation, alienated from my peers, terrified of my family, and wracked with guilt and shame.
No one rescued me.
Until I rescued myself.
I clawed myself out of the mire–ensconced in the shit, I managed to get myself out of the quicksand.
While I navigated my escape with courage, I’ve tripped through recovery, often falling flat on my face, or somehow somersaulting backwards yards at a time along the way. Creating this content is my way of reclaiming the resurgence which has been mine all along.
Below you will find a collection of videos recounting the reasons why I wished to abstain from sex as a teen. I hope it elucidates the import of consent and the power of deconstruction in healing from trauma.