I recently read a book by Jennifer Pastiloff called “On Being Human”. I gotta say, it was the realist thing I have ever read. Also, the only book I have finished in less than a week in a long time (6ish years, maybe?). It inspired me to talk about my truth and here I would like to do to that. I have never considered myself a good writer so bare with me. Or maybe that is just my Inner Asshole (IA) that has been telling myself that for as long as I can remember. Probably my IA. Jen talks a lot about “Bullshit Stories” and the shit we make up in our head about how awful we are and how we don’t deserve love or anything good. I think that is super true in my own experience because Whao have I ever told myself some Bullshit Stories in my life.
The first super shitty Bullshit Story (if you can classify Bullshit Stories) I told myself was that I probably had genital warts because I slept with 4 different guys in 4 days and then noticed a bump that I hadn’t noticed before. But there it was and I must be a slut because I slept with 4 different guys in 4 days and now I have an STI and probably will never be loved so why care about myself ever again and I will probably die young so fuck it let’s treat my body like shit and have sex with anyone who is willing to have sex with me. Except I am going to initiate the sex because I don’t give two shits about my body and who I give it away too anyways. I was 17 years old. I don’t think all those thoughts came into my head at the same time, but over the 4 years it took me to actually go to the health centre and get tested, that was my story. Those 4 years for me were dark years. Looking back, 4 years is not all that long, but at the time, 4 years felt like the rest of my life because I could not imagine myself with a future. All I could grasp my mind around was how dirty, toxic, and fearful I felt from too much alcohol, a variety of recreational drugs, Bullshit Stories, and promiscuous sex which I mostly do not remember because I was black out drunk.
Because I am a shitty writer (or says my IA) I am just going to tell a few short stories that keep coming up for me on this journey that I tell myself is my healing journey because that is what it feels like I am doing. Healing all this shit that I used to say to myself and any childhood/ancestral trauma that is lingering around in my body (which I am not quite clear on yet).
I remember feeling like a slut before the 4 guys in 4 days scenario. It started when my older brother was having a party at my house, and I was trying to sleep in my bed in my room. Most nights my brother would throw parties would be on weekends when I had soccer the next day and I would be upset because I couldn’t sleep and I cared a lot about soccer. I am gunna say I was about 15. One of the guys my brother had over (who was not a close friend) came into my room and would not leave me alone. He was drunk and gross and I did not feel safe but I was young so I let him stay. I can’t remember if he kissed me and how this happened but he put his hands in my pants and I felt him touch me and I didn’t tell him to stop. I wanted him too, but I was scared of what he would think of me if I did. I was always scared to be known as the girl who said “no”. Or maybe I did say no and eventually just gave in because guys can be persistent. I had a boyfriend at the time and felt like I completely fucked that up so I kept dating him and every time I would get drunk when he wasn’t around I would end up sleeping with another guy because that fuck head from my brothers party already ruined my integrity in my relationship and I was a slut (Bullshit Story).
I remember telling lies to people all the time when they asked me why I didn’t want to date or why I didn’t want to have kids. I used to tell people that I didn’t want to date because my last boyfriend (the one I cheated on) slapped me in the face and pushed me to the ground and I just didn’t want to be with anyone unless I felt a true connection. Which was somewhat true, but it wasn’t because I was abused by my ex-boyfriend, it was because I thought I had genital warts and didn’t tell a soul and did not want to have to tell a long term partner about these thoughts in my head (Bullshit Stories). I also felt like a terrible person because I continued to have sex with people without “consent” or so they say when we’re talking about sex with an STI. I also thought I could go to jail for this because for some fucked up reason it is the law to tell a partner about an STI which I think just contributes to the stigma and keeps people from disclosing a status or potential status. I say this is a fucked up law because most people have an STI and do not know it. The majority of people with HSV and HPV do not know they have it. Young men are not tested for HPV and most cases of genital herpes are asymptomatic (which means they do not show symptoms but can still spread the virus through viral shedding). All the fear and uneducation (which isn’t a word but I use it because I was just straight up not educating myself out of fear of that goddamn google search). I told people I didn’t want to have kids because in my head having an STI made me think I was definitely going to have a child with a disability or not be able to have kids at all. And if I had a child with a disability I would probably hate my life because I was selfish and all I cared about was myself at this point yet ironically hardly cared for myself at all. I was irresponsible, or so my brother told me, and my IA believed him.
There were many, many, many hook ups that made me feel shitty. One in particular keeps coming to my mind. I was single (of course), and was in University in Kamloops, BC. I would talk to a lot of guys online or on text I don’t even know anymore, but there was one who had a girlfriend that was on my soccer team and I would consider us friends because she would give me rides to soccer (I never had a car, I walked or biked everywhere I went). He would send me dick pics and I thought that was a bit inappropriate but I would go along with it because I didn’t give a shit about myself. We met up one time. I remember driving in his car and not knowing where we were going because I wasn’t from there and he was (I think). He took me up one of the hills (and there are a lot of hills in Kamloops). We stopped and got out and walked down into the bushes which were basically cacti because everything is dry there. I thought alright maybe we are going to have random sex with the cacti because that would have been something 20 year old Emily would do. Instead, he pulled his pants down and pushed my head towards his penis and made me suck him off until he finished. That was a shitty experience. I cannot fucking stand it when someone pushes my head down during oral sex. It is not okay, and I hope that if you ever experience this that you stick up for yourself and do whatever the hell it is you want. But at the time I figured I deserved this because I am a shitty person and no one will ever love me, another Bullshit Story.
Lately, my Inner Asshole is not quite as loud as it used to be. I gotta thank yoga for that one. Finally I am able to realize that the thoughts in our heads are just thoughts. And that we can change our reality if we change our thoughts. This is just some memories I have of all the BS I used to tell myself. It is also 2am and I teach two yoga classes tomorrow and have two kids to look after in the morning but here I am, not sleeping while trying to heal 6 years of HPV (which I was diagnosed with after finding out I did not have genital warts). So I guess my IA is telling me to go to bed because if I don’t I will not heal and will probably get cancer and will either lose my entire uterus or die and not be able to see my daughter grow up. Okay yeah the Inner Asshole is still there. I don’t think it ever really goes away. But hey, we are human.