Something a little different for today’s Monday Musings post but keep reading…
I lost my virginity fairly young (which scares me a bit now I’m a grown woman with children of my own). I don’t know why we refer to it as being ‘lost’. I know exactly where it went, and unfortunately it wasn’t to the most sensible choice of partners. I try to live without any regrets, but one of the main things I look back on and wish I had done differently was this.
My teens were filled with drama. My on-off boyfriend of two years and I would constantly break up, cheat on each other, get back together, split up, go out with each other’s friends and generally mess each other up emotionally. I’m not sure why we stayed together so long, and why we would always seem to go back to each other (in the years since we have even revisited briefly under the sheets, despite having both changed a fair bit).
When I went to Universiry I was still a bit of a wild card and looking back, I was the kind of girl people would probably have referred to as a slut (not that I’m saying that is a good term to use).
I tried to ‘calm myself down’ by coupling up with somebody I wasn’t ever really sexually attracted to, and if I have any advise to give it’s not to do this. It resulted in a messy breakup some 18 months later when I felt so little attraction that I avoided him for 6 months of our relationship (we were in the same uni course and shared the same friends, it wasn’t easy…)
Ultimately the problem was I wasn’t open and honest about how I felt and so I tried harder in my next relationship, which was with a guy 9 years my senior, who I met during my placement year. It was an ill advised long distance relationship – not that long distance can’t work, but when you are also in the back of your mind convinced that your partner is hiding something big from you (like wife and kids big), it isn’t going to last.
Still, the 6 months we had together were extremely passionate. I was open enough with him (even if he wasn’t necessarily returning the favour) to be able to explore my sexuality with him and it felt liberating.
When I just couldn’t trust him and the distance proved too much, I ended things before he could break my heart. Just afterwards I discovered I was pregnant and a new chapter of my life began.
Sex was put a bit on the back burner as I went into motherhood and my final year of uni (although I did end up back in the arms of my older man on more occasions than I would like to admit – always a sucker for a bad boy).
By the time I met my (now ex) husband I was feeling fairly fragile and the attention he gave me made my feelings escalate quicker than they should have done. Before I knew it I was pregnant with my second child, a baby girl, and engaged.
I felt trapped in a relationship I had rushed into and, feeling I had nobody I could open up to, I carried blindly on, not once admitting my unhappiness, even when we argued in the run up to the wedding and our, never brilliant, sex life dwindled away.
After 8 months of marriage, we called it quits. It was then that I met Ed (who although also 9 years older a than me was completely open with me from the start) and things fell into place – not in a Disney fairytale ending way, but in a way that made everything right after so long.
I truly do feel that I’ve now finally met the person I am meant to be with. We just fit, and from the start everything felt right.
Sexually, Ed and I are compatible, we use similar sex drives and are both quite kinky, although with battling depression and my third pregnancy has meant putting things on hold a bit.
From the start I was completely honest with Ed, something I don’t always find easy, especially having been hurt in the past. Ed knows all of my past, all of the bad and the good, and more importantly, he knows who I am now and what I like in general and in bed. I don’t feel I have to hide anything with him. I have told him some of my most intimate secrets and fantasies and he hasn’t run away. He’s embraced them as part of who I am. And I know his past too. He’s no angel, he has done things in his past, as I have in mine, that aren’t nice. He’s hurt people along the way, as have I, but we are both different now.
One of the most important things I’ve learnt about sex is that you won’t have sex that really means something until you’re with the right person.
Sure, you can have some amazing sex with the wrong people. I’ve had some crazy experiences that I don’t regret, as they have built me and shaped me into the person I am now, they’ve shown me what I like and what I don’t like, and they’ve let me be a little carefree and silly.
But now, with Ed, I feel the sex is the best I’ve had. And it’s not necessarily swinging from the chandeliers, screaming so loud you wake the neighbours up sex, but it is sex with meaning. It’s sex that makes me feel empowered, sexy and loved all at the same time.
And yes, it may sound weird, but I hope you know where I’m coming from (no pun intended) when I say that is the sex I hope for my children to have when they are grown up and settled down.
And for anyone reading this who is young and carefree and at the stage I was at all those 12 years ago (seriously, how has time gone by so quickly?!), by all means have the crazy sexual past I’ve had. Experiment. Be adventurous (although always use protection) but ultimately find somebody who you feel so at one with that nothing else matters and everything just slots into place (again, no pun intended). Because when you find that person, it’s truly amazing.