I’ve always wondered about that whole question of nature versus nurture, are we shaped for who we are from when we are born, or does our environment shape us, or more importantly, does the name we are given determine the person we end up being?
I ask this question because well I was bored and started thinking, and this was the result.
As a person, I would like to believe I know who I am, in fact, when I look in the mirror; I generally see the same face I’ve had since I was 5 years old. My eyes are the same the mouth, nose, ears are all the same, in fact with my recent hair cut I look like I did when I was 12 years old (I saw the passport photograph recently, scary, of course it could also explain why a 22 year old dude is hitting on me thinking I’m 20, life can be so good sometimes……. But back to the point).
So the issue is not about knowing who I am, or if I’m happy with myself (I like to believe that I know who I am to about 75 % and I’m generally happy with my life to about 80% of the time which is pretty high when you consider that nobody is 100% happy with their life, and if they say they are, they are lying), but I’ve recently began to wonder if the name I was given was a result of what was seen in me, or have I become the name I was given me.
Let me explain what I mean, in the film Breakfast Club (you gotta watch it, the brat pack at its best), one of the characters asked another what her name was, she said she was Clare, and his response to that was that she had a ‘fat’ name. Supposedly even though she’s not fat, she has this humongous person living inside her and after her first kid, hello sista big bones, (obviously being young, skinny and vain she denied it, but you gotsa wonder).
I mean have you noticed that by and large (lol) Anne’s who just have Anne (not Annette, Aneka, Andrea or any other thing with their names) are very proper, fun, of course but they tend to be incredibly earnest. Or have you noticed how Wale’s all kinda seem wet but are only rescued by the Surname that they have? I mean really be honest with yourself, sometimes a surname can lift up a name.
For me and my names, I’ve always wondered if I was always me, or did my name shape me.
As a person, well as me, I generally use 3 names, Adunola Yewande and Wendy.
Yewande was my first name, (I say first like I’ve been reincarnated, but based on the name I was I guess). Yewande means literally ‘Mother comes back’, and the name was given to me by my parents, because it seemed I was born around the time one of my Great Grandmother’s died, so I was named Yewande. \
The problem is this, I have been told since childhood that I look like her, I sound like her, and people I don’t know have told me that I have an old soul. I’ve also been told that I tend to be maternal, always wanting to take care of people and can be nurturing (sound like a health food don’t I ).
The Wendy name, is a derivative of Yewande, and it was my parents way of not allowing my British nannies (in the good old days of being tiny and in England) to bastardise my name, they decided to call me Wendy, the problem if you could call it that is the meaning of the name.
Wendy according to those books that give you the meaning of English names, was created by the author of Peter Pan J.M. Barrie, from the name of his cousin Gwendolyn. She was according to previously said sources a ‘sweet, affectionate girl who was prone to taking care of people, and could have been described as maternal to her brothers and cousins’. Hence the character in Peter Pan is ‘a sweet loving etc, etc, etc’. The problem is I have been described as all the above (look at the description of Yewande), so what does that say?
Then came Adunola, this was a name I chose for myself when I was about 10 (I have about 9 middle names, so it was a bit of toss up as to which one I would pick, but I don’t know I like Adunola). In case you don’t know Adunola means the ‘Sweetness of Wealth’, and the name was given to me because supposedly the time of my birth was a time of wealth and sweetness for the person who named me (and to be honest, I do think I am the sweetness of anybody’s wealth, no I don’t have a big head I know this for a fact, I mean really, I am the cherry on top of any wealth you may have, I am …….. just read the note Sweetness of Wealth Vol 1 and 2)
Now looking back I have to ask the question that did the name given to me make me all of the above, or by some fluke of fate, the people who named me looked into my eyes and saw all of this in me as a ‘ikkle babby’. I don’t know, but I do wonder what this means for children who are named after celebrities, or given some odd name like Pax (really its the short hand name for tampax, and I don’t know why you would do that to someone, but hey each to their own).
I mean what happens if you name your child a Christina when she is actually a Britney (Christina’s a strong, prone to the unusual and slightly gothy, Britney’s pink, fluffy and kinda vague) , or you name you child Adeola when she should really be a Tolulope, what does that mean for your child.
What about the people who change their names, I mean while Dita Von Tease, changed her name from Heather Sweet to Dita, she is still a Heather Sweet underneath all that make up, corsetry and black hair. She’s loyal, demure, quite and a bit shy but to her she was always a grand burlesque queen so now she’s Dita on the outside but Heather on the inside.
And what of Agyness whatever supermodel who changed her name from Laura Hollins (need I say more) to the interesting name and spelling because of numerology. Will she forever be a Laura trying to disguise herself with the odd name, I don’t know, but back to the question are we shaped by the name we are given or do we become the name we are given or our, our birth names the truest reflection of who we are?
Monday, December 15, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Closure or Closer
So the last few weeks have been hectic, with work and life and most of all with the eternal crush to get over.
Since I’ve now made room in my mind to think as in opposed to blundering through on the idea that if I don’t think just act, things will work out fine (obviously evidence points to the negatoid) I’ve now decided to clear the space in my mind and focus on closure.
The word itself sounds like what it felt like when I closed the car door on my finger, painful, unnecessary and totally out of whack with the world, but focus on the important things, closure.
I’ve developed a totally untried and untested method to get over and move under and totally close the door on bad feelings that you have for someone and hopefully move on with your life a somewhat more mature, slightly less damaged human being. I say that, but the reality is that it would probably leave you feeling bitter for a few month, century, lifetimes, but at least you would learn how not to make the same mistake again. Of course I did hear that the only truth ever learnt is how to make the same mistakes again, nasty idea.
So the 7 point agenda (kinda like Yar’ adua, but this is way much more fun, or relevant maybe?)
1. Stay as far away from the person or thing you are trying to get closure from – I know its not rocket science, but seeing the person or thing, only allows you to continue obsessing and wanting and needing and dreaming (all of which are very dangerous) and you so need to get away from that mind frame. I did not do that when I needed to, hence my current understanding of KEEP AWAY, DANGEROUS TO YOUR HEALTH!!!!
2. Accept – Accept the fact that though you wanted things to end in a certain way, chances are they are not going to. In fact given current evidence, the opposite is usually the case. Accept the following facts that you will feel bad, you will hate all couples and the emo part of yourself will reveal itself full fledge.
3. Feel bad – I know what sort of advice is feel bad, but there are few times in your life you allow yourself to feel bad and get into your emotional hell hole without feeling guilty, take advantage of it, get all the repressed pain out, you have to, to move on
4. Cry – I have trouble crying, I always feel that with so much problems in the world, how can I cry over my stupid broken heart so maybe I squeeze a few drops out, then feel guilty (that’s the problem with wanting to be strong, sometimes you get so strong, you strongarm yourself out of your emotions). So if you cannot just open your mouth and bawl, get some Robb, onions, or a very sad film and make yourself cry. Of course if they don’t work……. I don’t know, pinch yourself.
5. Hang out with friends – Now when a relationship, crush or general emotional disconnection occurs in your life, it’s alright to hang with friends. I know you want to lock all the doors and shut out the world, but take one day to go out with friends, relax if you can and eat bad foods, (ice creams, chocolates, eba and efo riro does not count, neither does amala and gbegiri).
6. Do not send sly text, phone calls etc- I give you this from my limited advice pool, when I say cut all contact with the person/ thing I mean all contact. You cannot send text, letters, make phone calls or in anyway shape or form communicate with the person. It is dangerous to your health and psyche.
7. Finally, if all else fails write something on facebook./ blog/ twitter – Yes, as you may all have guessed it, all the above failed for me, so I decided to write something on facebook, who knows, this might be the heartbreak cure nobody ever thought to prescribe.
Since I’ve now made room in my mind to think as in opposed to blundering through on the idea that if I don’t think just act, things will work out fine (obviously evidence points to the negatoid) I’ve now decided to clear the space in my mind and focus on closure.
The word itself sounds like what it felt like when I closed the car door on my finger, painful, unnecessary and totally out of whack with the world, but focus on the important things, closure.
I’ve developed a totally untried and untested method to get over and move under and totally close the door on bad feelings that you have for someone and hopefully move on with your life a somewhat more mature, slightly less damaged human being. I say that, but the reality is that it would probably leave you feeling bitter for a few month, century, lifetimes, but at least you would learn how not to make the same mistake again. Of course I did hear that the only truth ever learnt is how to make the same mistakes again, nasty idea.
So the 7 point agenda (kinda like Yar’ adua, but this is way much more fun, or relevant maybe?)
1. Stay as far away from the person or thing you are trying to get closure from – I know its not rocket science, but seeing the person or thing, only allows you to continue obsessing and wanting and needing and dreaming (all of which are very dangerous) and you so need to get away from that mind frame. I did not do that when I needed to, hence my current understanding of KEEP AWAY, DANGEROUS TO YOUR HEALTH!!!!
2. Accept – Accept the fact that though you wanted things to end in a certain way, chances are they are not going to. In fact given current evidence, the opposite is usually the case. Accept the following facts that you will feel bad, you will hate all couples and the emo part of yourself will reveal itself full fledge.
3. Feel bad – I know what sort of advice is feel bad, but there are few times in your life you allow yourself to feel bad and get into your emotional hell hole without feeling guilty, take advantage of it, get all the repressed pain out, you have to, to move on
4. Cry – I have trouble crying, I always feel that with so much problems in the world, how can I cry over my stupid broken heart so maybe I squeeze a few drops out, then feel guilty (that’s the problem with wanting to be strong, sometimes you get so strong, you strongarm yourself out of your emotions). So if you cannot just open your mouth and bawl, get some Robb, onions, or a very sad film and make yourself cry. Of course if they don’t work……. I don’t know, pinch yourself.
5. Hang out with friends – Now when a relationship, crush or general emotional disconnection occurs in your life, it’s alright to hang with friends. I know you want to lock all the doors and shut out the world, but take one day to go out with friends, relax if you can and eat bad foods, (ice creams, chocolates, eba and efo riro does not count, neither does amala and gbegiri).
6. Do not send sly text, phone calls etc- I give you this from my limited advice pool, when I say cut all contact with the person/ thing I mean all contact. You cannot send text, letters, make phone calls or in anyway shape or form communicate with the person. It is dangerous to your health and psyche.
7. Finally, if all else fails write something on facebook./ blog/ twitter – Yes, as you may all have guessed it, all the above failed for me, so I decided to write something on facebook, who knows, this might be the heartbreak cure nobody ever thought to prescribe.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Catch me if you can/ Stuck in the middle………. Whatever !! Pt 3 final installment
After University for my BA then on to my MA, where I got the opportunity to go to New Zealand, and OH MY GOD!!! The men and yes they were MEN were foine. Beautiful, burnished brown skin (I was totally into the Maori men) and many tattooed with these beautiful scrollwork that sometimes started on their faces taking up half of it, then working its way down their bodies, their arms, torsos, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I was enamored, in love. I had to be particularly as when I landed and went through customs, one of the officials turned to me and said
‘What are you here for, business or pleasure’,
I replied ‘a bit of both I hope’, and he said
‘Well for pleasure, here’s my number’.
Now I know that was a line that he had probably used on a million women, but after getting down from a tin can that had been in the air for 22 hours and feeling just a bit rough, a man offering you pleasure would turn your head too!! I didn’t call him, but NZ was an experience in itself.
Prostitution being legal in NZ (you would wonder why it is that all the places I have visited have legal prostitution, I don’t know why, but I also have to wonder…………. I have also been to America, Seville, and South Korea so really not everywhere) I was faced with more than one offer as to my ‘willingness’.
One occasion that really freaked me out was on the second day I arrived and on my little walkabout getting to know Auckland I was literally accosted on the street by this ooooooollllllllllllllddddddddddd guy, who told me that he knew me (he did not!!!! I only arrived in the city the day before) that he wants to spend time with me (yeah like I would let that happen) and that I had to have his phone number (what for, dude was at least a hundred years with very bad teeth, and maybe I should have done an Anna Nicole, but while I do like older men, that would have been too insane but considering my current financial position, would it really have been a bad idea I now wonder).
When I refused, he practically dragged me (practical smactical, he dragged me) into this bank and got a pen and paper to give me his number then when he asked what I was doing next and I replied ‘shopping’. Dude followed me into the next shop I went into (it was a vintage clothes shop, NZ is fab for vintage clothes, you have to go check it out) and asked if he could stay with me while I browsed and shopped and maybe get me some lingerie (ewwwwwwwwwwww, maybe I should have said yes and then drained him of all his money, but I just arrived in town, I had to take a bit of time to get to that point, damn me for my eww factor) when I refused and blatantly ignored him he finally left.
Other than the odd experience here and there, NZ made me want to return, at least for one more visit (I have yet to make this trip so if you want to send me money for it, my account number will soon be posted). Not long afterwards, I made the pilgrimage back to Nigeria, except I guess if you return for good it’s not a pilgrimage it’s more like a jack!!
Now back to the issue, I never had to run to catch these guys, in fact, from the moment I took interest in guys, they have been the ones it seems looking to catch me, but my return to Nigeria threw me for a curve because while the men chased me (and boy do they chase) I also started to have crushes on these men ( I mean should I be getting crushes at my age, I am the grand old age of ……… what the hell, either way I’m crushing on one man in particular, now).
Now being a rational 21st Century woman (let me rephrase WOMAN) I took it in my stride, I had asked out men before, it followed the same principle, and it worked. Other times the men chased (both married and single), sometimes I ran, other times I let myself be caught, but I discovered a twist in the tale recently, I have a CRUSH.
Oh the humiliation, the pain the mind boggling stupidity of it all.
This man is fine, who to be honest in the future I will probably forget and be like WHO?!!! But for now he is haunting me, and due to some complicated, convoluted thingys (my life, my eff ups, and my fear because I’ve not liked someone like this before, its crazy), I cannot tell if he likes me, if he’s ambivalent or can’t stand me, I don’t know, but I have been subtle, I only told him I have a crush on him, and he said ‘HE WAS FLATTERED’ (this had to be capitalized because WTF?!!! Flattered, I laid my pride at the altar of his ego and all he could say was I’m flattered!!!!!) but it seems despite this obvious eff up on his part, I’ve regressed to 16 and I can’t get over this crush.
So the question now is, should I pursue, should I make myself unavailable, or should I just take a deep breath and forget about it (but what if he is the father of my unborn children, then I deprive the world of my obviously gorgeous kids) this is getting all too American high school and stupid, but I’m stuck in the middle alone, when I would obviously LOVE to be stuck in the middle with him!
‘What are you here for, business or pleasure’,
I replied ‘a bit of both I hope’, and he said
‘Well for pleasure, here’s my number’.
Now I know that was a line that he had probably used on a million women, but after getting down from a tin can that had been in the air for 22 hours and feeling just a bit rough, a man offering you pleasure would turn your head too!! I didn’t call him, but NZ was an experience in itself.
Prostitution being legal in NZ (you would wonder why it is that all the places I have visited have legal prostitution, I don’t know why, but I also have to wonder…………. I have also been to America, Seville, and South Korea so really not everywhere) I was faced with more than one offer as to my ‘willingness’.
One occasion that really freaked me out was on the second day I arrived and on my little walkabout getting to know Auckland I was literally accosted on the street by this ooooooollllllllllllllddddddddddd guy, who told me that he knew me (he did not!!!! I only arrived in the city the day before) that he wants to spend time with me (yeah like I would let that happen) and that I had to have his phone number (what for, dude was at least a hundred years with very bad teeth, and maybe I should have done an Anna Nicole, but while I do like older men, that would have been too insane but considering my current financial position, would it really have been a bad idea I now wonder).
When I refused, he practically dragged me (practical smactical, he dragged me) into this bank and got a pen and paper to give me his number then when he asked what I was doing next and I replied ‘shopping’. Dude followed me into the next shop I went into (it was a vintage clothes shop, NZ is fab for vintage clothes, you have to go check it out) and asked if he could stay with me while I browsed and shopped and maybe get me some lingerie (ewwwwwwwwwwww, maybe I should have said yes and then drained him of all his money, but I just arrived in town, I had to take a bit of time to get to that point, damn me for my eww factor) when I refused and blatantly ignored him he finally left.
Other than the odd experience here and there, NZ made me want to return, at least for one more visit (I have yet to make this trip so if you want to send me money for it, my account number will soon be posted). Not long afterwards, I made the pilgrimage back to Nigeria, except I guess if you return for good it’s not a pilgrimage it’s more like a jack!!
Now back to the issue, I never had to run to catch these guys, in fact, from the moment I took interest in guys, they have been the ones it seems looking to catch me, but my return to Nigeria threw me for a curve because while the men chased me (and boy do they chase) I also started to have crushes on these men ( I mean should I be getting crushes at my age, I am the grand old age of ……… what the hell, either way I’m crushing on one man in particular, now).
Now being a rational 21st Century woman (let me rephrase WOMAN) I took it in my stride, I had asked out men before, it followed the same principle, and it worked. Other times the men chased (both married and single), sometimes I ran, other times I let myself be caught, but I discovered a twist in the tale recently, I have a CRUSH.
Oh the humiliation, the pain the mind boggling stupidity of it all.
This man is fine, who to be honest in the future I will probably forget and be like WHO?!!! But for now he is haunting me, and due to some complicated, convoluted thingys (my life, my eff ups, and my fear because I’ve not liked someone like this before, its crazy), I cannot tell if he likes me, if he’s ambivalent or can’t stand me, I don’t know, but I have been subtle, I only told him I have a crush on him, and he said ‘HE WAS FLATTERED’ (this had to be capitalized because WTF?!!! Flattered, I laid my pride at the altar of his ego and all he could say was I’m flattered!!!!!) but it seems despite this obvious eff up on his part, I’ve regressed to 16 and I can’t get over this crush.
So the question now is, should I pursue, should I make myself unavailable, or should I just take a deep breath and forget about it (but what if he is the father of my unborn children, then I deprive the world of my obviously gorgeous kids) this is getting all too American high school and stupid, but I’m stuck in the middle alone, when I would obviously LOVE to be stuck in the middle with him!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Catch me if you can/ Stuck in the middle………. Whatever !! Pt 2
The great voyage was to England and on arrival, I was too busy surviving to pay any attention to boys, and I don’t think they did to me. Of course looking back they must have, but it was more important for me to pass than to be passed around.
While I was not prolific in secondary school, I did have friends who were, the ones that were sleeping with men twice their age, the ones who were sleeping with 2 boys at the same time and the ones who just went the easy route and got pregnant. Either way I was determined not to be one of those girls and kept my eyes on my books, (might explain why I now wear glasses).
After secondary school I made my way to college and then I started to take an active interests in guys, tall guys, short guys, white, black, purple, green suddenly it seemed like the world was full of guys I wanted to see. Even more suddenly (I think it’s sudden, but it might have been a few months) this wonderful French guy came into my life, he was sexy, thoughtful and I figured he was only in town for a while so, why not.
I enjoyed it, I lost the big V, and moved on with my life (we are still friends, we email often) and figured well it wasn’t like Mills and Boons (and other books I had read since those days, but it wasn’t bad, I certainly did not feel that I had crossed a bridge, maybe I hopped a creek!).
The rest of my college days, weeks, months, were followed by study, a few dates, some good and some bad, the good ones we laughed and played and remained friends, the bad ones were very bad. The guy who was so emotionally abusive, (I’m not a small girl, but sometimes words can really make you feel tiny), to the one that tried to hit me, (he ended up with a black eye my mama din’t raise no fool). I won’t say that I’ve had a lot of lovers, but I have been lucky, a lot of guys I went out with are my friends (going out does not imply sex by the way, so get your mucky minds out of the gutter) but no long term relationships.
I’ve often wondered why it is that I can’t sustain a long term relationship, or rather why a long term relationship cannot sustain me, I guess its simply an issue of trust. After your father messes you up with daddy issues it kinda get a bit difficult to trust (of course the main question is, is there woman who does not have daddy issues, if not, more power to you, as kid rock said, ‘it ain’t easy dating a woman with daddy issues’) Of course you cannot blame your parents for the mess up of your love life, but in this issue I think I can point a finger or two or ten.
Either way after college, off I went to University, and boy did they get it right, Uni is a lot of fun, you just have to prioritize when you will mess around. I would suggest your first year (if you are studying in England) cus that year doesn’t count. My first year was all about fun fun fun, I made new friends, I danced a lot, I laughed more and took my first trip to Amsterdam (it was a gas, I did not smoke or inhale, but I did shop for everything and the red light district is really very nice, honest!). Being the practical kinda girl that I am after my first year I spent the remaining 2 years studying very hard and in the interim, I learnt a lot about me and what I would and would not do (no I won’t tell, but there are things I would not do)
While I was not prolific in secondary school, I did have friends who were, the ones that were sleeping with men twice their age, the ones who were sleeping with 2 boys at the same time and the ones who just went the easy route and got pregnant. Either way I was determined not to be one of those girls and kept my eyes on my books, (might explain why I now wear glasses).
After secondary school I made my way to college and then I started to take an active interests in guys, tall guys, short guys, white, black, purple, green suddenly it seemed like the world was full of guys I wanted to see. Even more suddenly (I think it’s sudden, but it might have been a few months) this wonderful French guy came into my life, he was sexy, thoughtful and I figured he was only in town for a while so, why not.
I enjoyed it, I lost the big V, and moved on with my life (we are still friends, we email often) and figured well it wasn’t like Mills and Boons (and other books I had read since those days, but it wasn’t bad, I certainly did not feel that I had crossed a bridge, maybe I hopped a creek!).
The rest of my college days, weeks, months, were followed by study, a few dates, some good and some bad, the good ones we laughed and played and remained friends, the bad ones were very bad. The guy who was so emotionally abusive, (I’m not a small girl, but sometimes words can really make you feel tiny), to the one that tried to hit me, (he ended up with a black eye my mama din’t raise no fool). I won’t say that I’ve had a lot of lovers, but I have been lucky, a lot of guys I went out with are my friends (going out does not imply sex by the way, so get your mucky minds out of the gutter) but no long term relationships.
I’ve often wondered why it is that I can’t sustain a long term relationship, or rather why a long term relationship cannot sustain me, I guess its simply an issue of trust. After your father messes you up with daddy issues it kinda get a bit difficult to trust (of course the main question is, is there woman who does not have daddy issues, if not, more power to you, as kid rock said, ‘it ain’t easy dating a woman with daddy issues’) Of course you cannot blame your parents for the mess up of your love life, but in this issue I think I can point a finger or two or ten.
Either way after college, off I went to University, and boy did they get it right, Uni is a lot of fun, you just have to prioritize when you will mess around. I would suggest your first year (if you are studying in England) cus that year doesn’t count. My first year was all about fun fun fun, I made new friends, I danced a lot, I laughed more and took my first trip to Amsterdam (it was a gas, I did not smoke or inhale, but I did shop for everything and the red light district is really very nice, honest!). Being the practical kinda girl that I am after my first year I spent the remaining 2 years studying very hard and in the interim, I learnt a lot about me and what I would and would not do (no I won’t tell, but there are things I would not do)
Monday, December 1, 2008
Catch me if you can/ Stuck in the middle………. Whatever !! Pt 1
‘I have turned a corner and become a woman’ or was it …………. ‘It was like crossing a bridge’, either way when I watched that scene in Silk (book by Shirley Conran, film by I don’t know but it had Pheobe Cates playing weird vampish baby girl) I always wondered what the heck they were talking about. I was young then, but I later figured out that they were talking about sex. Bad analogy for what it feels like to have sex for the first time, but hey everybody is entitled to their own opinion.
For me, this is not about the first time I had sex, it has to do with what seems to be my overriding race (can you call it that?) to catch a bloke, one particular bloke, my bloke, the one that I’d know when I see, the one that ‘completes me’ (nerts to that, just one that I can stand for more than 5 seconds would do).
I can’t say that I remember much of my childhood, but I do remember the first time I did something so I could impress a guy, I think I was about 5.
At school that day I was sitting in class, talking to a friend of mine (he was male) and this girl (who I chose to see as a ‘ho in training) came up to us, sat down next to him and asked him if he wanted to see her pants. I remember being shocked not because she had asked the question, but by the quickness in which my ‘friend’ turned his head and said yes.
So ‘ho in training got up pulled up her dress and said ‘look at my pants, look at my pants’, not to be overshadowed, I promptly got up and did the same. What happened after this should have warned me of what my future with guys was going to be because at that exact moment the teacher walked in (I know she was standing just waiting for me to do the pants thing) and promptly gave me some sharp slaps on the exposed buttocks. After this, I reconsidered my friendship with the guy, but I did see him suddenly take an interest in ‘ho in training.
The next incident that comes to mind about my life and sex was when I discovered Mills and Boons at 7 or 8. I didn’t really understand some of the words (thank God for dictionaries) but I got the general idea of what sex was all about and the results it was meant to produce. So when at 10 a fellow parishioner (he must have been at least 20!!) in my pastors house pulled me onto his lap to play and as I was reading I felt something pushing at my butt and his hand found his way under my top I knew to stand up quickly and move very quickly away, before I could say anything, he jumped up and ran away, (I never saw him in church after that).
After that, my life became a series of studying and trying to pass exams and going off to boarding house. In boarding house, I saw a lot of my seniors sneaking off into corners with the senior boys, and heard rumors of pregnancies and abortions, but nothing that affected me (I was curiously immune to the crush bug, until recently it seems) I was just uninvolved and unconcerned.
This was until the day that one of the boys who lived with his mother on the school premises, Sidney I think his name was, started taking an unusual amount of interest in me, and started to call me duck, because he said I waddled. I didn’t think much of it, until one weekend we had gone for a walk with some friends and suddenly I was alone with him and he wanted me to touch him. Where I hear you ask, well it does not take a genius to figure out where in this story, I said no, he tried to force my hand on it and I screamed and ran I was 12. I kept away from him after that day; in fact I went out of my way to avoid him, luckily I was not in the school for long, a great voyage awaited me…….
For me, this is not about the first time I had sex, it has to do with what seems to be my overriding race (can you call it that?) to catch a bloke, one particular bloke, my bloke, the one that I’d know when I see, the one that ‘completes me’ (nerts to that, just one that I can stand for more than 5 seconds would do).
I can’t say that I remember much of my childhood, but I do remember the first time I did something so I could impress a guy, I think I was about 5.
At school that day I was sitting in class, talking to a friend of mine (he was male) and this girl (who I chose to see as a ‘ho in training) came up to us, sat down next to him and asked him if he wanted to see her pants. I remember being shocked not because she had asked the question, but by the quickness in which my ‘friend’ turned his head and said yes.
So ‘ho in training got up pulled up her dress and said ‘look at my pants, look at my pants’, not to be overshadowed, I promptly got up and did the same. What happened after this should have warned me of what my future with guys was going to be because at that exact moment the teacher walked in (I know she was standing just waiting for me to do the pants thing) and promptly gave me some sharp slaps on the exposed buttocks. After this, I reconsidered my friendship with the guy, but I did see him suddenly take an interest in ‘ho in training.
The next incident that comes to mind about my life and sex was when I discovered Mills and Boons at 7 or 8. I didn’t really understand some of the words (thank God for dictionaries) but I got the general idea of what sex was all about and the results it was meant to produce. So when at 10 a fellow parishioner (he must have been at least 20!!) in my pastors house pulled me onto his lap to play and as I was reading I felt something pushing at my butt and his hand found his way under my top I knew to stand up quickly and move very quickly away, before I could say anything, he jumped up and ran away, (I never saw him in church after that).
After that, my life became a series of studying and trying to pass exams and going off to boarding house. In boarding house, I saw a lot of my seniors sneaking off into corners with the senior boys, and heard rumors of pregnancies and abortions, but nothing that affected me (I was curiously immune to the crush bug, until recently it seems) I was just uninvolved and unconcerned.
This was until the day that one of the boys who lived with his mother on the school premises, Sidney I think his name was, started taking an unusual amount of interest in me, and started to call me duck, because he said I waddled. I didn’t think much of it, until one weekend we had gone for a walk with some friends and suddenly I was alone with him and he wanted me to touch him. Where I hear you ask, well it does not take a genius to figure out where in this story, I said no, he tried to force my hand on it and I screamed and ran I was 12. I kept away from him after that day; in fact I went out of my way to avoid him, luckily I was not in the school for long, a great voyage awaited me…….
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