Naked, But Not Afraid

My body, my temple. I get to decide who has access to it! This statement has not always been the case. During my upbringing, I attached a lot of shame and guilt to how I looked and my body image. Let's start from the beginning.

When I was a young adolescent, I went to school in Queens, New York. I felt left out as my fellow students were developing into the beginning stages of womanhood way before I did. I viewed myself as inadequate. The boys used to make fun of my flat chest, so I decided that the best way to fit in was to stuff my bra. The worst part about it? One boy unsnapped my bra, and the gig was up. Mortified and tortured, insecurity about myself settled in.

A few years later, leaving Queens behind, my family and I moved to Westchester County to continue my education as I was about to enter high school. My mother had recently got remarried to my stepfather, who had an unfortunate addiction to alcohol. When he drank, it was like Jekyll and Hyde; his infuriated side would instantly come out.

My mother had to work to financially take care of my brothers, sisters, and me, so she was never around. Since I was the oldest of five, I would have to defend myself and felt that I had to protect my siblings from the chaos in our home. This chaos led to understanding why, in most of my relationships in my 20's and early 30's, I took on the mother role and held on to feelings of abandonment.

High School was a whole new ballgame; I was severely bullied and hid in the bathroom most of my freshman year. I don't remember exactly what I did to be disliked so much, but kids sometimes don't know any better. Once the early bullying days were forgotten, and my fellow students accepted me, the cool thing to do was go to parties and hook up with boys.

I ended up hooking up with one of the senior boys that I had a crush on after a party. Besides kissing, this was the first time I explored my sexuality. Of course, I was nervous, as I heard rumors that the first time wasn't pleasurable since you would have to "pop your cherry." In other terms of womanhood, break your hymen. I allowed my crush to take the lead, and let's say that the fourplay was painful enough to stop before intercourse.

I shared my experience with the girls at school. Soon enough, I was being made fun of again for not only not having sex but also saying "ouch" during the fourplay. Once again, I felt outcast and thought something was wrong with me. I decided that it would be best not to engage in any sexual activity; instead, I entered the world of drugs to numb myself for how I was feeling inside.

The drugs led to hanging out with the wrong crowd and being put in awkward situations. This is how I ended up finally losing my virginity. I was hanging out with a graffiti crew, and there was a bet going around who would be able to take my virginity first; of course, I had no clue.

One evening I was getting high on angel dust, and the lead member of the crew somehow convinced me to go to some cheap motel with him. Being young, high, and naive, I said ok. His buddy waited in the car as we went upstairs to this dark and dingy room.

I felt I put myself in a situation where I didn't know how to say no, so we proceeded with intercourse. Was this the start of feeling obligated to have to sleep with men? Once I lost my virginity, I engaged in many different types of relationships, some that lasted a few years and some that lasted only an evening.

After high school, and as I entered my 20's, I noticed the relationships I was attracting were either addiction, abuse, and chaos-based. It turns out my childhood home environment influenced my choice of men. Until I became aware of this pattern, I repeated it over and over again with different partners but the same outcome.

Another traumatizing moment that occurred for me during this time, that I'm not proud of, was my decision to have an abortion. Due to many circumstances, mainly the drug addiction of myself and the "father to be," this was the best option. To this day, I try not to think about it or hold a lot of shame and guilt. It's deeply uncomfortable to be sharing and writing about as I'm still working on forgiving myself.

During my later 20's not only were my relationships with the opposite sex and my family life toxic but so was my connection to my job. I entered into a strip club world consisting of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. It may sound glamourous and exciting, but it fed the darkness within my soul. Sex sells, and so did the image I started to portray. Bring on botox, breast implants, and almost nude attire.

I used sex as a form of manipulation for monetary gains. I put myself into forced intimate situations where I felt obligated to perform sexual deeds for a quick buck. I'd pretend like I was having a good time when I wasn't. I noticed how I would use sex as a form of control to win someone over and gain the attention and love I felt I was missing inside.

As my repetitive patterns took hold, I realized that I felt the need to punish myself for gaining a reward. I allowed things outside of me to show me my worth because, ultimately, I thought I was never good enough. To deal with this adversity, I made jokes and wrote it off as if it was no big deal.

After hitting rock bottom, I started slowly becoming aware of the games I was playing. Toxic relationships are indications that we think that's all we deserve. It's a vicious cycle of searching for something outside of me to heal, ending up unfulfilled, and causing suffering. I got tired of this frustration.

Over time and gaining clarity, I started to question what it is about this pattern that I need to learn about myself to let go and be able to move forward. Through forgiveness, acceptance, and gratitude when looking at my sexual trauma, I have been able to heal. With healing comes self-love and the confidence that had been waiting all along to shine through me.

The validation that I was looking outside myself I now know comes from within. I'm not going to tell you it was easy or that I don't still have moments that trigger my insecurities or feelings of abandonment. With practice, it's become a journey for me to recognize my outdated old beliefs that I have been conditioned to for years and realize that they no longer define my true essence.

Present-day in my reasonably new partnership, for the first time I waited to have sexual intercourse because I didn't want to feel obligated. Let me tell you; sex is way more enjoyable when games are no longer needed.

As I take things slowly, I'm able to build a romantic relationship based on friendship first. I wait to see what old stories come up that still might need some healing. I'm taking chances in learning how to be vulnerable and connect without conditions, expectations, and manipulations.

Moving forward, I get to choose who I have sex with and not because I feel I will gain a sense of false control, or I fear that someone won't like me. I know now that I am enough. Less control leads to ultimate freedom, and I don't have to build a relationship based on sex to win someone over.

I have become confident enough in myself to see that I no longer need to prove anything. There is a lot more to this story, but you'll have to wait for my book to read the rest.