The first thing to answer is yes I did come from a damaged home and I probably have lost some moral or emotions. I find it hard to make friends, I went to seven primary schools, and every time I made friends I couldn't exactly say by the way I'm being beaten by my mother or that I get starved or that there was various guys in and out the house. I couldn't say my biggest fear was, what I called the black men knocking on the door (they were guys in black suits, and from a poor family and the way they asked for money scared me - other words, debt collectors).
When I was eight dad gained custody of me and life was grand it took me a year to even start trusting another female, dad worked nights got home at 7am took me to school for 9am, slept and picked me up at 3:15pm and hung out with me then went to work for 11pm. So I guess I was extremely clingy for a time though the bond between us has never ceased.
I'm 18 finished my Alevels, had two boyfriends one for a month and the other for a week, he kept pushing me to have sex so I broke up with him as I wasn't ready (16 at the time).
I decided I wanted to go to university at another city three hours away. In hindsight it was this that messed me up more, I never realised how much I talked to my dad about problems, feelings, majority of the time he's my best friend and I definitely relied on him too much, probably still do and will for a while more.
I went to university, and didn't have the rock of home, I had to do more thinking myself and confided in my friends a bit more, or should I say new friends that I met at university. It was during this time that I thought what's the big deal with sex? And three months later fucked a guy, didn't feel anything good or bad, and didn’t hurt even though it was my first time. I didn't feel pleasure, I felt slight pressure then just numbness didn't feel him at all. I didn't do anything sexual for a year, other than a couple of kisses at clubs.
In year two I made other friends who were also of the promiscuous lifestyle and thought nothing of it tbh, although at the time I didn't want to go over ten guys. That year I slept with 3 guys, one was good I found out I was fairly kinky and it wasn't just fantasy, second physically hurt me and the third made me realise I wanted a friends with benefits or somewhat of a relationship. I loved sex and what it entails but I wanted it with someone I cared for. If only I stopped there :/
By year three, one of my previous housemates broke down my door scared and terrified me he had bloodshot eyes was on something and drunk as well. I messed up my exam and had to retake a year. And this was after being extremely paranoid of things being put in my food, rate poison in beds, stink bombs in my room (we didn't have locks).
I got persuaded to go on holiday and though it was a nice place, the actual time spent there was shit. I started smoking weed and each time I did I realised just how much of an illusion I was living. As in I saw the truth of my shitty friends and how much I was telling myself everything was alright. It was Christmas 2017 and I was also working alongside going to university, and could only go home for about eight days, when the last two years I spent about sixteen odd days back home.
In the next six months I slept with eight guys with six of them being in two months. As the year went on I was getting more depressed and the only time I noticed was when I was high. I was also not eating properly while doing a lot more exercise, so I lost a lot of weight and looked a lot sexier than I ever have been. I was getting so much more attention from guys, like wolf whistles as I walked down the street and getting chatted up on the street etc.
What messed me up was when I decided to have cocaine for the first time, and I knowingly got sucked into the trap of a married guy, I felt so sick to the stomach and it set me off to have sex with seven more guys. I couldn't stand myself for what I did, I know it takes two to tango, but the way I saw it: I wanted attention so so much that when he started saying how beautiful and sexy I looked, I couldn't resist him it brings me to tears even now. Months has passed, hell I moved back home so there's no possible chance of ever seeing him or anyone who knows him again.
The main reason though, was I found out I was pregnant and I don’t know call me selfish, point to prove, whatever. I'm going to be a great mum and do well for my child going to finish university, get a good job and maybe eventually I'll find a guy who would accept me.
I know, I made my bed and I'm going to sleep in it. I'm just not going to let myself be put down by others again and enjoy what life has given me, I'm only 21, almost 22 and I have much more fight then that in me.
The only thing is, if I do finally get into a relationship with a guy why would I ruin something I've always wanted by cheating? I would rather walk on shattered glass and climb through a maze of barbed wires (saw style), then ever do that to him, or myself for that matter.