When I was a kid, I was happy. I remember being quite happy. I ran, I jumped, I laughed, I told jokes, I sang, I danced, I played, and I did all of these with confidence and with joy, unabashed at anything else people thought about what I was doing, whether those people were boys or girls.
I was actually quite a center of attention, I recall, and I would often catch the attention of my relatives and of my friends with my early mathematical skills, the jokes I knew and told so well, and other pieces of knowledge I was not afraid to share. This overage of attention got me thinking that I should expect everyone to pay attention to me, though, and ever since then, my self-esteem has never been the same.
Then as I grew up, I ran into situations and actions that people around me disapproved of, but which I had no reason not to get involved into. I learned about "puta" and "mierda" in school and asked my parents what it meant, and was denied an answer. I asked my older siblings about it, but to no avail. I asked about kissing and about differences between men and women, but found no answer either. Instead I found sudden silence, coldness and awkward behavior, and from this I learned that I should not bother grown-ups with such things. So I learned to avoid these concepts with all people, including friends from school, and thus I delayed my knowledge of curse words, sexual facts, and drugs (including alcohol and tobacco) until my mid-teens.
As you can imagine, this behavior I learned imposed quite a disadvantage and much awkwardness on me when I began being attracted to other girls in my classroom, and I remember that happening even at the age of 7 and 8. I spent quite a few years in which I avoided such topics, but when my teenage years came, this became quite impossible to ignore, as girls became prettier, attraction became stronger, and the attention of all my classmates was directed entirely towards it.
Thinking I still was "in the right", "obeying" my parents by avoiding such topics, I retreated into becoming an excellent student and worrying about other things, such as mathematical olympiads and computer games. I became fairly adept at both, but in doing so, I became fully inept at my social skills. And then several girls somehow turned to angels in my eyes, and I could do nothing about it except dare a few awkward lines with them, and look away when they talked to me back. I knew I wanted to be closer to each of them, but I had no idea what my objective was. All I knew about relationships between boys and girls was based on Disney movies, and a few moments of a porn film my classmates at a previous school had forced me to see. Was I trying to kiss her? Or to touch her? Did she want to be kissed? Or was it like a robbery, where one forces kisses out of the girl? How do I know if she wants to be kissed? Why do I want to kiss her? What does it mean to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Am I supposed to want that? Why? All these questions I wanted to ask the girl herself, but I did not have the courage or the skills to do so. And I used the taboo label on those subjects I learned from my parents, and the pride I somehow accumulated during the time of academic excellence, to block myself from asking other people and learning more on the subject. I remained ignorant, inept, and awkward for many years.
So my entire teenage years passed, and through each of them, I liked different girls, and I tried to talk to them, I even let them know about it, but none of them liked me back. None of them. None of them either showed it or told me - they actually acted around me in a repulsed manner, disgusted by my presence and by my words. This reinforced my hypothesis that girls actually do not want to let guys touch them or kiss them, and that it was guys who "forced" them to. Either that, or that I was especially unlikable, for some reason. I didn't want to "force" a girl I liked into doing something she didn't want to, so I simply resigned myself to not pursuing a girl actively unless she showed signs of liking me first. And that never happened. I was 17, and the most sexual concept I knew of was masturbation. I still did not fully understand what the act of sex was, and what it meant for both the boy and the girl. Fucking sexually repressed society. I graduated from high school still ignorant about what sex was, with a heart broken time and time again, with absolutely no evidence to support the fact that I was a boy worth liking.
When I began college (slightly against my will), I thought that starting fresh and anew in another social environment would help me find confidence in myself again. It helped initially when nobody knew me well, but it wasn't long before everyone realized that I was quite a reject. I acted as if I expected myself to be a reject, used to it from the years of high school, so I became a reject, and the people I met took the hint. It wasn't long until I again found myself unliked and unhappy, friends only with other people who weren't apt at social interactions either.
Through college again I found many girls who I liked, all of which did not like me back. My greatest achievements consisted of telling girls that I liked them, directly. One of them on the phone, a couple others to their faces, looking at her eyes. They were all met by rejection, and though it hurt, as always, they were achievements for me nonetheless.
And so I went through and graduated from college, surer after each passing year that I was simply not a likable boy, now practically a man. My mood always alternated between depressed and resigned, and I became quite a master at disguising it when I wanted to. At this point, still my parents and I had never ever engaged on the subject, but at least I had decided to watch and read some porn by then, so I knew how things worked, at least from the outside. But not a single girl's lips had ever touched mine, and every time I realized it I cried, even if only inside.
Six or seven months after finishing college, at age 23, for the first time in my life, a girl came on to me. We got along great, as had happened before with other girls, but then she actually looked at me and wanted to kiss me. Never had it happened before, and I simply disbelieved it for hours, days on end, until it was only way too obvious. She snuggled me, she hugged me, she bit my lip, waiting for a reaction on my part, and I just stood there, looking at her, stupefied by a situation I had so many times dreamed of but never believed that could really happen to me. I'm still amazed she kept on pushing after my absolute idiocy, but she did. And then one time in the movies, as Shrek 3 showed on the screen before us, with my heart beating like crazy, trying to get out of my chest, against all previous experience, with my brain screaming at me "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!???", I shakily tilted my face to hers and kissed her lips, as I also slowly took her leg, then her breast, and caressed them as best as I managed from what I had imagined. And she LET ME DO IT.
At that one moment, she became my world, my divine angel, the most precious creature that ever existed. I was hers, and I would have done absolutely anything for her, though to her I was only a cute shy boy. It was also the most important act in the history of my self-esteem. It was ground-shattering, it blew my mind, it broke my paradigms, what I had built and believed in for over twelve years. At 23, I was proven that it was possible for a girl to like me. Seeing UFOs come down from the sky and aliens come out of it to greet me, developing telepathic powers, or the sky turning green with pink stripes would not have been as mind-blowing to me as the kiss we had in that movie theater. My whole being experienced Nirvana as my brain rushed to break all of the erroneous concepts I had built under the assumption that I would never be liked. Those few minutes kissing in the front row of a movie theater showing Shrek 3 changed my world.
A few weeks later her parents found out that their daughter's physics tutor and their daughter were becoming pretty intimate with each other, and the physics lessons were off. I was devastated for a few days, but it all became better when I found another girl online who I began chatting with flirtatiously, and soon after sexually. She lived in Los Angeles and I lived in Guatemala, but with my newly-born confidence in my pocket and a lifetime of sexual urges to appease, I flew to Los Angeles, met her, and kissed the second girl in my lifetime in her shiny red Mustang in a Burger King parking lot in LA.
I know she wanted to go all the way - she was slightly older and more experienced, but I was TERRIFIED of unwanted pregnancy and of STDs. Absolutely terrified. So the first time in her car we only masturbated each other and did not do much else. The second time, however, I had an apartment to myself, and we enjoyed it as we slowly removed each other's clothes, and caressed each other's skin with anxious hands and sweaty bodies. It was the first time another girl saw me fully naked. I remember the feeling as being quite tickly in my stomach, and slightly embarrassing, but the fact that she kept on smiling and took my penis in her hand made me break even more of the erroneous useless paradigms I had believed before. In this case, the broken paradigm was "girls think penises are icky". It was also the first time I saw a girl's breasts. (She had such a nice body...)
Unluckily, however, she was on her period. That being even more unknown to me, I decided not to mess around with it, and thought that I would eventually fuck her all the way sometime in the future. That didn't turn out to be true, but still I ejaculated on top of her, even though I don't think she enjoyed the whole experience as much as I did. Too bad for her... I could've made her feel so much better if I had received a decent sexual education in my past.
After three or four furtive encounters, I never saw LA girl again. I returned to Guatemala and focused on my abacus classes, where I met Daniela, the best girl in the abacus class, and with whom I competed for first place in the annual guatemalan abacus competition. I liked her and we got together a few times, and as I got to know her better, I began to love her even. Unfortunately, I knew I was moving to Austin, TX to work only a few weeks later, but I couldn't let her not know about how much I liked her and thought we should be together. So then one time when ice skating in a mall, for the first time in my life, without any real cue from her, without her smiling at me or showing explicit interest in being close to me, I kissed her. It was such a short kiss, just a split second maybe, but I kissed her lips, and then quickly pulled away to look at her reaction, anxious. The huge smile in my face covered my terror at what her reaction could be. But she acted quite calm and thoughtful, and we then only proceeded to talk further and to walk outside, looking at the moon, sharing more thoughts than touches. No more kisses with her happened. But that was the first time I kissed someone on my initiative, without her obvious consent.
I haven't seen her since. Another six or seven months passed, and those months I spent alone in Austin, trying to meet new pretty girls, but failing pretty badly. I did meet one awesome girl at a bar that I thought was perfect for me... but it turned out she had already found a guy that was perfect for her. I suffered a few months for her, longing and wishing for her, but then I met a woman at work.
Much older than me, I decided to talk to her one time only to practice my social skills. I thought she was pretty, but didn't think much else about it. I saw her pretty in the sense I saw my pretty aunts and my pretty cousins - I was attracted to them, but simply knew in my mind that there was an insurmountable barrier between us. However, I decided that a large age difference did not impede us being friends, so I pursued a friendship with her.
We ended up getting along quite well, and we began having lunches and watching movies together. Movie-watching was fun, and sitting with her alone in a semi-dark living room was a very nice mood - we found ourselves drawing closer, telling each other more intimate secrets, hugging each other more meaningfully. I wasn't sure what that meant, and I wasn't sure if a woman would ever consider liking a guy like me, but at that time I sure didn't mind it - she was a beautiful woman who I got along with great.
Then one night at 3AM, as we waited on her porch for the rain to stop, we looked at each other and did not look away. Neither of us had explicitly meant it, but our looks were meaningful and our smiles gave us away. Without explicit consent, with only our looks and our feelings to guide us, I told her she was beautiful, and trembling, sizzling, almost unbelieving again, reached out to touch her lips to mine.
The kissing under her porch was awesome, but it was not too long before she pulled me inside and decided to get down to the real business. We went to her couch, and she took off her pants, showing me her genitals, the first female non-baby genitals I'd ever seen in my life. She gave me such a look of playfulness lustiness I will never forget, and then she proceeded to unbuckle my belt and pull my pants down, and looked at my full-on erection. She seemed happy to see it, and began pulling my penis to dock with her vagina, right then and there. I went through all of this in a state of trance, trying to assimilate her vagina and my nakedness and what we were about to do all at once, overwhelmed with powerful sensations, too many to act in any coherent fashion - I just let myself go and did what she indicated me to.
Disappointing for her, I ejaculated after having penetrated her only once. She said "it's ok", but I guess that's just female etiquette-language to actually mean "you bastard!". Only one or two nights later, however, we again proceeded to have the sex, but this time, it was so much better. I knew what was going on, and though it was still a new experience for me, I had mentally prepared myself, and I did such a better job. I gave myself in to the experience - licked her skin, licked her clitoris, fucked her silly for as long as I could manage, and she was very happy about it afterwards.
That night I became a non-virgin, and she was quite astonished and disbelieving when I confessed that to her afterwards. We both liked the sex quite a lot, though, so we continued doing it for quite an extended period of time. I visited her every time I could manage, and during this time, my sexual self-esteem rose up to levels I had never before experienced. I now had full proof that I was likable, sexually capable, and even quite good at it. There was at least one girl with whom the entire act of sex, from the touching to the kissing to the licking to the fucking, was enjoyable on both sides.
So far, however, this has been the only piece of evidence I've had on the subject. I am now 26, and there is only a single girl I have ever had sex with. I kissed another girl more recently, and fingered another even later, but nothing all the way, and nothing that lasted more than a couple of days. I still get together with my sexual woman sometimes when I visit her (from Pittsburgh to Austin when I do), but it is not as frequent as before, and further searches for other women to do the same with have failed so far.
Although I've come a very long way ever since my total ineptness in high school and college, I think I still have a few steps to take before I can consider myself fully sexually confident. Just recently, my only sexual anchor told me that she had had sex with another guy. Our relationship is not exclusive, so I was not justified to be angry or upset at her about this. However, I was upset. Jealousy came up from inside me, Envy filled me up, and could just not stop thinking about it. For a little while. I wasn't torn and battered and completely ineffectual at doing anything else, but it hurt a little bit. And I wondered "why is that? I knew that it could and would happen... why do I feel hurt?"
She is my only sexual anchor, however. She is the only person that I have ever had sex with, and the only person that I know I can go to and expect sex from. That makes her very special, and so anything that even remotely endangers that anchor for me, and makes it possible for me to go back to a state in which I can't guarantee finding a girl to have sex with, makes me feel quite anxious and afraid.
I wrote this whole blog entry attempting to justify the negative feelings I have just described. It turned out as a fairly accurate narrative of my sexual life, and I am pretty satisfied with it. I missed out on making out with my sister, but that was just a one-time thing (unfortunately).
Anyway, I use my tragic teen years and as a young adult to justify my jealousy. That is the purpose of this blog. How can I be expected to act normally and trust on her to really continue liking me, when my attempts to be liked for over 10 years failed?
I trust and love her, but my animal instincts just fear the past. I'm sorry for being cold to you, J... I love you so much.
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