How many people remember their first time? I remember my time. Oh it was so romantic. The glow of the fish tank shimmering down upon us as lay on the floor of his Mom’s living room while Halloween 2 played in the background. Oh yes, I fondly remember that afternoon and how I pushed my then boyfriend to just do it already. I was a romantic what can I say? And well he was let’s just say, he was all kinds of in love with me and for me he was my first boyfriend in the adult world post-high school. He was cute and sweet and a baseball player at the local community college. We had nothing in common other than the fact that we both wanted to run away from who we were in that time of our lives. Okay back to the sexy…it was well, it was a first time. It didn’t totally suck. It wasn’t earth shattering. But it served it’s purpose, it answered my questions and increased my curiosity. It also gave me something to look forward to other than the long ass showers I had been taking since I was nine years old…
Here’s the thing about first times they are awkward and sometimes awful. Recently, I counseled someone on their first time and what to not expect. Nomad’s little sister some months ago asked me for advice and help and I told her that the worst thing a person can do is go into that with expectations of any kind of grandeur. My explanation may have been a little cynical for most women folk but it’s the truth. Women are fooled into believing that the first time they have sex it’s going to change them in some way miraculous and that all of a sudden you’re a woman. BAM! No. No. No. When I went into my first time I had a healthy curiosity about the body and how it worked and what I wanted to achieve and it was after that experiment that I figured out the whole other part of the awesomeness that is feeling something for some one. It was when that boyfriend proposed to me that I realized that I was on a whole other landscape than him. And I ran away. I ran away from him. I ran way from my fear that I didn’t know how to feel anything beyond that moment.
When I met the Cowboy some four years later, I found something unusual. I found feelings. I found attachment. I found someone who looked at me for moments that felt honest and without pretense. At that point I had lived with people and carried on the experiment to my hearts content. So this was an awakening of self that I had never thought would happen. However I was too young to appreciate the longevity of those feelings and what they can really mean for future development of self. But when we are young we move away from things quickly often driven by that same curiosity. This relationship was a first for me. Being in it, I learned about my ability to feel and attach to someone’s presence. After the Cowboy, I struggled with finding that feeling with anyone else. I walked down streets on my old ‘hood wondering if I had left a piece of me with him. Beating myself up for letting myself feel like that at all. Of course had I never felt it then I would never have known I was missing it, right? Sure that made sense at that point.
When I finally gave up and gave in I made myself attach to the Bio when I knew in my heart that our journey was not written with a forever ending. But I prayed that I was wrong. There were not many firsts with the Bio. We had a variety of desires that were worlds apart. But my heart convinced my brain that this was as good as we could get and I let myself fall away and into something without true passion. That was the first time I fooled myself into believing I was not going to find someone who would look at me like the Cowboy had. Some firsts one can do without. Some firsts are not discoveries of something miraculous and inspiring. Some firsts allow us to hide and creep out of the light. Some firsts kill our spirit. There is one first I had with the Bio I am thankful for obviously, the Monkey. Duh.
Over time I have had a shit ton of sexy times firsts and many of them have been notable, while others have made it into the circular file folder in my brain. I bet by now, some of you are wondering where I’m going with this one…or no? Not really? Okay well fine, I don’t know either. Oh right, in my life I thought by the time I was this age I would have been done with firsts. But it seems that no matter how many times I begin again and start over with new versions of me and new thought processes I always go back to that girl I was ten years ago. She was so brave and so ready for anything, no matter how much shit hit the fan. I’d like to think that pieces of her are still here. Not the silly punk rock groupie with black eyeliner in her pocket, but the adventurous take no shit bitch who loved with her whole being when the opportunity did present itself. It has been a long time since I was inspired like that. Inspired with the curiosity to feel something beyond the moment. Am I now? Oh wait, I’m not ready to share that just yet. But if I was then I would have to say there could be tons of awesome coming.