Virginity is  a touchy subject for most people. There is a lot of controversy on the importance of the subject. In my own opinion, virginity is important, it is lost only once, and is treated with delicacy in all topics of conversation. For my friends and family that have yet to lose their virginity, I will tell you that it is NOT like the movies. You will not have a mind-blowing, world changing experience and wake up to waffles in bed. What I mean by that is, depending on who it is and your choice it’s not always going to be great. Whoever you choose to lose it with may or may not be the right person. Whether or not you have sex the world will still carry on the next day. Those people that put you down for being a virgin most times are the same people who wished they were still one. There is nothing wrong with being a virgin at all. Nothing. In fact, I wish I was still one. Everyone has a different story on how they lost their own virginity. My story is definitely not rose petals and waffles. I was in a point in my life where I was angry at the world, and I wanted to try “adult” things on my own. I wanted to do everything my own way even if I had to resort to rebellion. I grew up in a church that told me that my virginity was far beyond the price of rubies. They were right and I wish I would’ve listened to them. I lost my virginity to a guy who didn’t see or appreciate my worth, he told me he loved me, that he would do anything to prove it. He told me that words were never enough and he wanted to “show” me. I felt like I was ready. I was 18 anyway, it was legal so it couldn’t be bad. Right? I lost my virginity with my pants down (still on my body), lying down on a bench in a middle school dugout, eyes closed, and waiting for it to be over already. I agreed to this. I agreed, but he pressured me and I said yes. It wasn’t special or life changing. It was just gone, like that. I regret it, but it still happened. Not everyone has the same terrible story as I do though. If you lose your virginity and you trusted that person, or you were content with how you lost it; I am happy for you. There is nothing wrong with losing your virginity. Whether with a wrong or right person, you gained an experience. You know what you want, what kind of person you want to be with, and how you would like to be treated. This is a touchy subject because once you lose it, it’s gone. You’re not a bad person for being a virgin and waiting. You’re not a bad person for losing your virginity either. When I was young, I felt like losing it before you were married was the worst mistake you could ever do. I was wrong. Everyone has a choice. No one should be judged for waiting or for being curious. At all. You’re still the same person. That will never change. Just make sure that if you make a decision, that its only yours to make. No one should make that decision for you.

Dear Mr. Stranger, visit me later…when all my problems fade, and you make sense again.

Dear Mr. Stranger, I’ve received your white letter…you’ve come back and yet it’s too late. I’ve said farewell to your memory, but here you are reminding me that you’ll always have a place in my heart.

Dear Mr. Stranger, I’ve come upon a discovery…while you may cease to make sense, I realize maybe it’s best this way. Maybe my heart will finally be at ease.

Dear Mr. Stranger, I must thank you…for if it wasn’t for your closed feelings, and fuzzy presence. I believe maybe I’d hold onto you forever, you’ll always have a home in my heart. But now it is time to let go.

Dear Mr. Stranger, visit me in my days of reminiscing and as a friend…but know how to keep a safe distance.  Thank you.

There has been a lot of controversy on the topic of rape. Rape is when a person forces sexual interaction with a person who did not consent to it. It does not always have to be sexual intercourse. Anything that you are force to do against YOUR will or ANYONE’S will can be classified as rape and/or molestation; both of which are wrong. I feel as if some people are overlooked when it comes to rape. A lot of people have boyfriends, girlfriends, best friends, husbands, or wives; and they might want to have sex with their significant other or even just sexual interaction, while the other party may not be feeling like giving it up. I want to clarify something, it does NOT matter if that person and their significant other has had sex many times before, if they say no, that’s it. Their request should be respected and that should be the end of that. You can say no to whomever you’d like, regardless of who that person is. Everyone has the right to say no. Everyone. It does not matter if you have had consensual sex with that person before multiples times, one time, or not at all yet. It is considered rape if that person was to deny another entrance to their body and they were forced to have sexual relations. No means no. No means no when you are married, in a relationship, and single.  One of my past relationships was toxic and I used to have consensual sex with him.  I didn’t want to be with him any longer and he forced me to stay when we were both miserable. But he would always make or force me to have sex with him. That is rape. He scared me. I said no and he didn’t care. When I started to say no; he would cry, or guilt me, threaten, or blackmail me. Then after awhile he got aggressive with me. But I kept thinking that it wasn’t rape, because he was my boyfriend. I was wrong. It was rape. It doesn’t matter who that person is to you; rape is rape, no is no. He forced me to do things I didn’t want to do and it tore me up. I was just an object to him, and I didn’t feel much good for anything else. No one should feel like that. Whatever state you are in when you say no, doesn’t matter. I have been drunk and high and I still said no to a friend of mine, but that didn’t stop him from entering my body without my consent. No one should ever think twice about saying no. It doesn’t matter who that person is to you or what they’ve done for you. You are the one who dictates what you and your body want, no one else. It’s okay to say no.

I’ve always wondered what it was like to know who you were as a person. As in, how do I know who I am? Or that I am acting normally as I usually would in any given situation. Sometimes when I am in a slump and depressed, my friends would tell me that I am “not acting like myself”. How do you know? How do I know? In high school I was a very shy individual who was fairly nice and outgoing in most occasions. I never hesitated to say hello to someone. Sure I kept my head down when I walked in the hallways, but I always offered a smile to any unknown bystander. All of a sudden for multiple reasons I was spiraling in a tornado of darkness. I was depressed and “not acting like myself”. Of course I was different because I was depressed. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, and I limited my communication with people. But when I slipped out of that, I wasn’t necessarily back to my “old self”. As humans, we are always changing. People never really stay the same. It’s sad, but wonderful all at the same time. We change for a variety of reasons; to know better next time, to be stronger, to be more aware, but sometimes we harden our hearts to others. We may think that it’s better that way, but we shouldn’t assume the worst at all times. We should be careful, yes. But we shouldn’t shut people out in fear that we will only be hurt and used by anyone who crosses our path. I am a different person. I am not the same girl I was in high school. I am more aware and stronger. Even if I don’t always feel strong, I know that I am. I will never let anyone take advantage of me or hurt me again. I am not as outgoing as I used to be although I am working on it. I feel more withdrawn. I observe people more than anything. I feel that I am always trying to see my limits. What I can or shouldn’t say. What I should do and what I can’t do. I am pushing myself through obstacles and striving to overcome most of my fears and curiosity. When I leave this world I would like to leave with no regrets and all horrible things from my past forgiven. I learn something new about myself every day. I react to everything differently. I am striving to be calmer and less anxious. I am never really sure who I am all the time, but I am happy that I try to be myself and don’t let anyone else try to change me. Honestly why should anyone limit themselves to a title anyway? We have many and unique characteristics that only define a small part of a whole. My advice? I don’t think anyone should spend more time than they have to, to find themselves. I think they should use that time to accept and love themselves for anything they are or love. 

I didn’t love you, but I cared about you more than I cared about myself.

I didn’t love you, but when I saw you get picked on, it tore me up.

I tried to understand you.

I tried to justify the pain you caused me; whether it was physical or mental.

I blamed myself for how you made me feel.

I blamed myself for everything bad that happened to you; even though you know just as well, that it wasn’t my fault at all.

I didn’t love you, but you made me believe that I did;

And you made me pay for it every day.

As a teenager growing up, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and the pressures of society influencing my thoughts and actions at times. I was naive and impressionable. I had a lot of family issues and school drama like anyone else. I remember one day my oldest sister moved out of the house and I felt completely alone. I was in high school and had all these changes to deal with. I remember weeks after my sister leaving I had felt so alone and upset; I was on the floor of my bathroom silently crying with my hands in my hair. It was around midnight when everyone was sound asleep, I hugged my knees to my chest and out of nowhere I clawed my nails from my ankles, to my legs, up to my knee. I clawed myself hard. I hadn’t realized what I had done until I had lifted my fingernails from my skin and looked at my legs in horror. I felt crazy. If someone had witnessed that I would be locked up and put away. I decided to tell no one about it; I wanted to forget my unintentional behavior. Not soon after I started to have an abundance of negative thoughts about myself. I felt like I wasn’t pretty, or skinny, and I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. I was slipping. I was slipping into an unknown darkness of new found self-hatred. I kept  reflecting on that night when I hurt myself. I couldn’t admit it then, but even though it hurt, I liked the feeling of pain. I felt like I deserved it. My negative thoughts of self-hatred increased over time and it wasn’t long until I started to use a blade against my skin and I started to cut myself. It hurt at first and I wanted to stop. But my feelings of self-loathing won over because I thought I deserved the pain; So I kept at it. I didn’t want anyone to know or to see so I cut myself in “safe places”. I didn’t do it every day. I did it when my thoughts were too heavy, when I got rejected, felt heartbroken, messed up in anyway, or when I let others manipulate me. I did it because I got made fun of and when people underestimated me-they thought I was slow, stupid, or weird-. I’d cry in the bathroom and cut myself. I did it so often that when something happened that made me feel worthless, my wrists would burn as if my body needed that pain. Just like how when you’re hungry, your stomach will growl aching for food; just like how my body started to ache for pain. The thing I liked about cutting was that after I did it, I would be sore for a few days reminding me of that pain. It reminded me of how I felt and the punishment I deserved. Then my wound would itch and drive me crazy until I scratched and it bled again. The sick thing about it was that I liked the remaining scars afterwards. It reminded me of the many times I proved to be worthless.  No one knew I was hurting physically and emotionally. I felt like other people controlled me at times. What I should do and say. I would just remain quiet. I couldn’t control my thoughts or feelings. I felt alone in the darkness and the only thing I could control was my self-punishment, but even then I was losing control over that. My wrists burned constantly. I felt like if I didn’t cut myself, then my skin would constrict harder and harder. I believed that when I cut myself that my skin would be opened and I could finally breathe. It was getting bad. It all started with me clawing at my legs, cutting myself with a dull knife, and upgrading to a sharp razor. I used to cut my ankle, my wrist, my thighs. Places that I could easily hide my pain. One day I just didn’t have enough bandaids  and my wound bled through my sock and someone noticed. They proceeded to alert my father. I’ve never seen my father cry before; until the day he confronted me about my problem. He wanted to talk about it and ask me why I did it. Seeing him like that and knowing that I was the cause of his heartbreak and tears broke me. But he didn’t understand my pain and I couldn’t tell him why I did it. I promised him that I would stop and even thought I tried to stop; it was only a matter of time before I started again. I began to like a boy who was rude, manipulating, and dangerously alluring. He told me that I was pathetic, naive, and I wasn’t good enough for him. But he’d play with my head and toyed with my emotions like I was nothing but an amusing game. My cutting started to worsen. He molested me and crossed lines, but he made me believe that I wanted him and I was a disgusting pathetic slut. I felt dead inside. He rejected me, but continued to molest me and fill my head with lies. Then out of nowhere a beautiful boy fell in love with me. He fell in love with me and made the darkness go away. It wasn’t all at once, but over time his light shown brighter than the darkness I held. To him I was beautiful, kind, and smart. I was important and his first priority. I could bore you with everything that happened afterwards, but I won’t. Years have passed and although I am not still with that beautiful boy; I am happy. I am okay. I’ve had a lot of light and darkness in my life. Depression is a tough battle that I fight everyday. Some days it gets me and other days I conquer. I haven’t self-injured or cut myself in two years. I’ve slipped sometimes, but I try my absolute hardest to stay strong. I’m not going to tell you it’s easy, because it isn’t. My wrists still burn sometimes urging me to hurt, it takes all I have to ignore it, but I do. I’m stronger than that. I don’t fight depression solely for myself, I fight for the people I love and the people that love me. The hardest thing people struggle with is believing that they are alone. That is the biggest lie. You are NOT alone. You might always feel or believe that way, but you are wrong. You have family, friends, and even strangers who care about your well-being. I’ve gone up to strangers crying trying to see if I can help them in anyway. I’ve had strangers come up to me and ask if I was okay. Humanity is not lost! The darkness is overwhelming, but you cannot let it consume you. I never thought that I would stop hurting myself physically and emotionally, but I have. I still have negative thoughts from time to time. I try my hardest to remember all the people who love me despite my negative flaws that I have. I can work on myself to overcome them. My flaws, my depression, and how I perceive myself. If you can’t live for yourself, live for other people who see your value and potential, until you can finally live and love yourself. You are not a lost cause. Years ago if you would have told me that I’d be this strong person I am today; I would have laughed. But look at me now. I’m still not perfect and will never be. But I am living, I am smiling, I am trying to love myself, and I am conquering depression day by day. You can too. Believe in yourself and don’t let the darkness consume you.

I’ve always been there for you since day one. I have crossed plains and oceans and mountains for you. I understand you are human and make mistakes, trust me I am not perfect either. But every time I was there for you, every time I cried for you, or worried; you shrugged your shoulders in nonchalance. I never minded saving you because that was always supposed to be my job. But you take me for granted and you throw caution to the wind on a daily basis. You never think of me, but I have you on my mind worried sick. I’m always your first call, and I have always been your superhero. But each time you don’t think, each time you land yourself in trouble, and each time you call out my name, I want to turn away. You are so selfish. You never think of me and how tired I am of worrying about you when you could care less. I want to hang the cape and ignore your calls. I want to push you away, but I love you so I won’t. Your actions are harmful, but even though you know I am tired; you know indubitably I will still be your superhero. I’ve stayed by your side, I made excuses for you, I came out looking for you, and I’ve loved you even though you make it hard for me to. But whenever I hear your pleas for help or seen your tear-stained face, I put my cape back on and stand by your side. I just wish for once, you’d think of me.

The incident happened five years ago, but she could recall each memory from that fateful day. His icy blue eyes piercing into hers, he pressed his forehead to her own as he ordered her to trust him. She tried to tear away, but he kept a strong hold of her wrists. She remembers shaking in fear as he said, “You can scream if you want to, but no one will hear. No one is going to save you.” She tried desperately to escape, but she wasn’t strong enough to break free from his grasp. He was forcing her to do horrible things and helplessly she begged for him to stop. He only laughed harder as the tears fell from her face.

That was five years ago. He was long gone and she was safe. But she still heard his voice haunting her dreams; she could still remember his boisterous laughter at her begging for him to stop. Oddly it appeared years later she was faced with his look alike; a possible doppelganger. At the first sight of him she was angered and frightened. She kept her distance and her guard up. His look alike also had blue eyes, but they were cool and calm just like the sea. He was kind and gentle towards her. The original had echoed darkness in her thoughts, keeping her a prisoner of the past. But his look alike broke through her thoughts with his own voice that held light opposed to darkness. She no longer felt frightened, but still held her guard because even the original had shown her kindness at first.

I used to believe everyone was full of light and goodness in their heart. In some cases I still believe that. But there once was a boy many years ago who deceived me. I knew he was evil, he treated others disrespectfully, and made others feel uncomfortable. But I felt that if I were to befriend him; I could help him. There were many times that I had thought that I caught a glimpse of light, of kindness. Times where I thought that I had seen a change in his behavior. I let him hold my hand and tie a blindfold over my eyes. I let him lead me on a dark path; he guided me, and when I voiced my fears he only laughed. He left me alone in the dark and when I called out to him, hoping his light would shine, I was only left in darkness. I trusted him and he abandoned me. As people we feel the need to reach out to someone and try to change them for the better. We’re naive in that aspect. You cannot change anyone no matter how hard you try. In the end the only one who can change themselves; is them. Don’t hurt yourself trying to make someone else feel or be better.

Wouldn’t you like to know of the dreams that haunt me? Of the nightmares that grab a hold and yank me down? Well I’ll tell you simply because I am exhausted of staying silent. Of waking up in cold sweat and dried tears, and of locking my fears away.

It begins in a fairly normal setting where everything starts out with vibrant colors, but quickly fade to darkness. There is always a man; you. You are chasing me and I try so hard to get away. I have no escape once you catch me in your tight grasp, I scream. But there is no sound that escapes from my mouth. We are surrounded by people who look through me as if I were translucent. No one can see me and no one can hear my pleas for help. You hurt me, you shake me violently, shouting words that force thoughts into my head; that attempt to make me believe that I am lost, broken, ugly, unwanted, and hopeless. The longer I’m with you, the harder it gets to ignore your words. You force your cold lips onto mine; I push and struggle, but there is no use. You laugh at me and tear my clothes off. I fight desperately to get away and get help, but you always find me. No one sees my pain or hears my cries. My wrists burn, my body aches, my hope is torn, but I keep fighting.

These are my recurring nightmares. Each time I go through this, each time I relive that day, I feel myself falling in a hole ready to give up. I can’t let you break my will to fight. You took everything else from me. I will not allow you to break me any further. I will be strong.