mynamesearn

First times, the ones that leave a mark, for better or worse. People love to say your first time should be all candles, love, and soft music. But let’s be honest: life isn’t a movie, and for some of us, it’s far from magical.

My first time wasn’t romantic or beautiful. It wasn’t even consensual. It was a moment that broke my trust and left me questioning everything. I wasn’t planning to share this, and it might make some people uncomfortable, but this story needs to be told. Why? Because too many people don’t realize how common this is. Sex without consent is rape. And let me be clear: it’s not your fault. It never was.

I just watched It Ends with Us, and it hit me harder than I expected. It made me realize that maybe writing this is the final step I need to release the pain I’ve carried since I was 17. Healing isn’t a linear journey, it’s messy, painful, and it takes time. But here I am, ready to take control of my story. What happened to me doesn’t define who I am anymore. In 2025, I’m leaving that pain behind. It’s time to let it go, speak my truth, and reclaim my power.

Trusting the Wrong Person

I was 17, just a teenager. Like many at that age, I wanted to feel noticed. I trusted people easily, maybe too easily. He was older, much older. We met on Facebook. When he asked me out, I felt flattered. I thought, “Wow, he likes me?” Now, looking back, I can’t even figure out why I liked him. Maybe I just wanted someone to care.

Things moved fast. Too fast. One day, I ended up at his place. It wasn’t planned, and I definitely wasn’t ready. I wasn’t thinking about sex. I just wanted to cuddle, maybe kiss, do the stuff teenagers do. But sex? That wasn’t even on my mind. The details of what happened next are blurry, like a mix of memories I wish I could erase and ones I can’t stop replaying. I remember saying no. Not just once, but multiple times. He didn’t stop. I froze, stuck in a moment that didn’t make sense.

I kept thinking, “Is this normal? Is this how it’s supposed to be?” When it was over, I felt numb. Later that same day, I found out he had a girlfriend. He acted like nothing had happened, while I was left feeling empty and broken. I didn’t say anything. I hadn’t even processed what happened. The next day, he disappeared from my life entirely, like I never existed.

For years, I stayed silent. I couldn’t even admit the truth to myself. But here’s the truth: it wasn’t just a bad experience. It was rape. He ignored my “no.” He took something I wasn’t ready to give. And yet, I blamed myself. I blamed myself for freezing, for not fighting harder, for trusting him in the first place.

That’s the thing about trauma, it twists reality, making you think the fault is yours. But it’s not. Freezing isn’t a weakness. It’s your body’s way of trying to protect you when you’re scared and don’t know what to do. Knowing this doesn’t erase the pain, but it’s helped me see the truth: it wasn’t my fault. It never was.

How Trauma Shaped My Choices

That first time left a deep mark. It made me question my worth. I thought I was reckless, out of control, even “easy.” I told myself it was all my fault, that I deserved what happened next. Those weren’t truths. They were lies trauma told me. And because I didn’t recognize them for what they were, I kept finding myself in similar situations.

The truth is, what happened to me wasn’t an isolated event. It kept happening, over and over. It happened again when I was 21. A different person, but the same kind of pain, so many men did this to me and didn’t even realize it was wrong. That tells us so much about how consent isn’t prioritized in our society. By then, I thought, “I should know better.” I blamed myself again. I thought, “I let this happen.” But no, it wasn’t my fault. None of it was my fault.

This isn’t just my story. It’s a reality for so many others. Too many people don’t understand consent, and that’s a problem society needs to address. When someone ignores your boundaries, pressures you, or takes advantage of you, it’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Why do some people think they have the right to hurt others like that? Why do they believe they can take something so personal without consent? It’s their choice, their action. It’s not on me, and it’s not on anyone else who’s gone through this. Writing this now, I’m crying because it still hurts. It still affects me in ways I didn’t fully understand until much later.

Recognize Sexual Abuse or Violence

Sexual violence doesn’t always look like it does in movies. It can be subtle and confusing. Here are some signs that something isn’t right:

• Feeling pressured to do something sexual when you’re not comfortable.
• Being ignored when you say no or hesitate.
• Being guilt-tripped or manipulated into agreeing.
• Freezing up, feeling stuck, or unsure how to leave a situation.
• Having your boundaries pushed, even after saying no.

Sexual violence can take many forms, including manipulation, coercion, or outright force. The World Health Organization reports that nearly 1 in 3 women worldwide experience some form of physical or sexual violence. The National Sexual Violence Resource Center adds that 94% of women who are raped show signs of PTSD in the two weeks after the assault. This trauma often stays with us, affecting our mental and physical health for years.

Many cases go unreported because of fear or shame. This silence makes it harder to recognize when something is wrong, but you should trust your instincts. If it feels wrong, it probably is.

If any of this feels familiar, know this: it’s not your fault. No one has the right to make you feel unsafe or force you into something you didn’t agree to. You deserve respect, safety, and love.

The Journey to Letting Go

It’s taken me years to stop blaming myself and feeling broken. I’ve learned that I’m not broken, I was hurt. There’s a difference. Realizing this has been one of the hardest but most freeing lessons of my life.

Your first time should be something that feels safe and special, something where both people are truly ready and respect each other’s boundaries. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about mutual care and understanding. For me, it wasn’t like that.

My first time wasn’t good, and it wasn’t consensual. Instead of being a moment I could treasure, it became a painful memory tied to the absence of consent. But I’m sharing this now because I refuse to let it define me anymore. Consent is everything, and understanding its importance can change the way we treat ourselves and others.

For years, I let that moment take over my sense of self-worth. I thought it was a permanent mark, something I could never escape. But that’s not true. You are not your trauma. What someone else did to you doesn’t decide your value. Healing is possible, even if it feels far away. You can take your pain and turn it into strength. 

This is why I’m telling my story. I know I’m not the only one who’s gone through something like this. If you have, I want you to know you’re not alone. It’s not easy, the path is messy and painful but it’s worth it. You’re not defined by someone else’s choices. You’re defined by the courage it takes to rise above them. Trust me, you can do it.

Writing this is part of me taking my story back. For so long, it felt like what happened to me had control over my life. Not anymore. I’m in control now. Healing takes time, and there’s no set timeline. Be patient with yourself, and know that you deserve to heal.

Now, I’m no longer falling for the wrong kind of guy. I’m in a relationship with someone who truly respects me. When I told him this was my first time, he said, “You can create your new first time. When you feel right, you can make that your first time.” And you know what? He’s right. He made me realize I don’t have to let my past be the story I carry around forever.

I’m so grateful for the healing journey that brought me to him. Real love feels safe. It’s built on respect, trust, and mutual care. It’s about taking back your story and making it yours, on your terms.

I deserve this love, and so do you. It took me a long time to believe I was worthy of it, but now I know I am. What happened to you isn’t your fault. It never was. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise. You are worthy of love, respect, and healing, always.

Speak Out and Stand Strong

So, to anyone out there who’s experienced something like this: speak up if you can. Don’t let it stay hidden in the dark. And if you know someone who’s done this and you’re still their friend? Well, that says a lot more about you than them.

If you’re supporting someone who’s been through this, listen up. Believe them. Help them get the support they need. Just being there can make a world of difference. Silence only helps the people who hurt us, and it’s on all of us to make sure we stop pretending like this isn’t happening.

What happened to me? It doesn’t define me. How I’ve grown from it? That’s what really matters. I’m grateful for the person I am today. I’m not grateful that this happened, but maybe, in some strange way, it made me more empathetic. It taught me to care deeply for others and gave me the kind heart I have now.

That said, to the men who did this to me, I hope your lives are as messed up as your personalities. (Okay, I try not to hold grudges, but let’s be real: some people just deserve it.)

I’m stronger now. I’ve found my voice again, and trust me, it’s louder than ever. This is my story, but it’s far from the end. It’s just one chapter in a much bigger journey.

If you’re reading this and you’ve been through something similar, know this: you’re not alone, you’re not broken, and you are WAY stronger than you think. You deserve to heal, and in 2025, I’m finally letting go of that wound I’ve been carrying since I was 17. Time to move on, babe. Let’s heal and take back our power.