By the time I was able to recognize and comprehend my attraction and desires toward the opposite sex, I was consistently told that sex was the precursor to a relationship. All throughout the first two years of undergrad, I was oblivious to boys, ignorant to the basic ritual of coitus. I left to study abroad in Australia, and all my senses slowly surfaced. I experienced my first kiss there, and a guy expressed to me, “you would have had so much more fun if you’d just have sex.” I thought, to have sex haphazardly in a foreign country was absolutely ludicrous; that wasn’t my definition of fun. To say the least, I didn’t let one guy’s opinion penetrate my morals.

I came back home to finish out undergrad, and one day a man approached me. He pursued me and we dated briefly. My first “relationship” that set the tone for future relationships. I wouldn’t have sex with him because it was still uncharted territory for me. In the end, he sought out his desires elsewhere and I kicked him out. He was a manipulative, psychopathic guy who instilled a sense of worthlessness in my mind, and that kickstarted the domino effect. A handful of guys who I encountered afterwards would tell me, “I don’t enter a relationship with a girl unless I have sex with her first.” And now looking back on that – I realize how toxic that mentality was, and how that has fucked up my view on successful relationships.

I never felt the urge to have sex. I didn’t care for it, because I had so many other things in my life I had to deal with. I didn’t care for the opposite sex, let alone the same sex. Then my sexual awakening occurred, and I found myself serially single. I didn’t understand; I was finally having intercourse, thinking it would lead to a relationship, but that never happened.

Since junior year, I have allowed men to make me feel worthless (this revelation really should’ve happened sooner).

I haven’t been in a proper romantic relationship for nearly 28 years now, and I have developed this mentality that if I don’t jump into bed with a guy on the first date, then they will lose interest and any hope for a relationship will be cancelled. Opposite to that – if I don’t sleep with the guy on the first date, then the possibility for there to be a second date is unfathomable.

how fucked up is that.

Maybe that’s why when I meet someone new, I have a sense of urge to do anything/everything that complements them. The pride I have in my self-independence is thrown out the window and I crumble down to please the guy. So I put myself out there; I try to be as authentic as possible on dates, only to be let down and of course – ghosted. My inherent need to constantly please my lustful desires is embarrassing. I’m pleasing everyone but myself. I’m relinquishing my power to strangers; I’m allowing them to control how I feel about myself, and now I’ve found myself in dangerous waters. I’m thankful that after many thoughts of attempt, I’ve gained strength to not commit self-harm, and can equally recognize how weak I am.

It’s that obsession for acceptance that has engulfed me.

Quarantine is hard, but self-love is harder. It’s not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. I’m great at self-care, and have warped that into thinking it’s self-love. But really, I’m not even sure if I like myself. How do you do it? Does self-acceptance come first? Is it a healthy relationship with your parents? Does your upbringing have anything to do with it? What is your definition of love?  I know I am broken, and I don’t need anyone to help piece me back together. I want to have somebody who will cherish every broken piece of me and not have to be worried that I’ll be stabbed by my own shortcomings.