*****Going to put a trigger warning on this. I have decided to disclose what happened and what’s been going on this past month. This post describes sexual activities, not in great detail but still, and it also mentions acts that are considered sexual assault.*****
I’m trying to refocus my life and move on from what has happened that I cannot change now.
The first thing that happened was I unblocked my ex-boyfriend Eric on FB and talked to him before I moved across the country. At the time my brother was dying, I was about to make the biggest move and change of my entire life, I was scared, I just wanted to say goodbye to Eric and I will be honest, I wanted him to know that I was leaving forever and making something of my life.
I had sex with him. It was consensual. He refuses to wear condoms which I have come to realize is a fucking issue so many men have, to the detriment of their own health and others health. I didn’t care, because I was stupid. When we were together we used to have sex multiple times a day. I knew he had been with other people, but I did not expect that he would have caught any illness because…to be honest he isn’t a social person and he’s not the kind of guy who I would think would be able to attract MANY partners. For this reason I felt foolishly safe. Afterwards I noticed that he had weird bumps on his penis. The panic set in. I could not believe it.
Who the fuck had he slept with? Why had he been so fucking foolish? Why had I? What was going to happen to me??
I went the next day and got tested. They called me and gave me the news. I had Chlamydia and high risk HPV. One of those illnesses is curable, the other is not. You have to hope your body clears the virus but sometimes it doesn’t and it can cause cervical cancer and genital warts (which is what I think those bumps were). I was absolutely devastated. I could not take the act back, there was nothing I could do except get treatment for the infection and move to Portland with the knowledge that I had been marked in some horrible way by Eric, this person who had already caused me such awful emotional and mental pain, had now given me a virus that could potentially affect me for the rest of my fucking life.
That had to take a backseat though since I was preoccupied with moving to Portland and seeing my brother, who was fading away every single week and every month. He passed away in November and I have still not been able to fully process it. The last year of my life seems to have been full of events that I look at now with a weird detachment because they are in the past but part of me feels like, “Can I just go back to that time? Can I ever? Can I press rewind and stop it? Can I go back?” No I cannot. It does make me feel in a way as if my life is already over and I am living in a strange limbo or dream.
You would think after what happened with Eric I would have been more careful, and I really wanted to be and tried to be.
After being here for six months and visiting Mike once in Kentucky, I was getting restless. It’s not so much that I wanted to find a relationship, because I knew emotionally I was not ready for that in my fragile, broken state. But I was all alone. In a state where I had no family, and only superficial friends who I did not know that well and who didn’t really know me. My brother had just fucking died, the person who I moved here to be closer to, my best friend. I was so alone and all I wanted really was a human being to hug me, to hold me. I wanted human touch so badly, even in the form of sex. I was having sex dreams every other night that just brought it up in my brain that I really needed to find someone to have sex with. It’s not a crazy idea in this age of technology where people can so easily find that if that’s what they are looking for. As a female you are sometimes made to feel bad about it, and truthfully this experience has really made me rethink my need for physical attention and how unhealthy it is maybe.
I downloaded Tinder, my first time ever using the app, and started swiping. I wasn’t expecting much, I just wanted to see if I could find someone looking for the same type of situation. Like I said, I just so badly wanted a human being to hold me in an affectionate way – not like a friend or family member – but that level of physical comfort you can only get from a lover. That skin to skin contact that has been shown to be so incredibly healthy for human beings because it makes your body release whatever feel good chemicals it does. Basically I needed those fucking chemicals, at this dire point in my life. I chose the wrong way to go about it.
I’ll say that I am a person who has a non-mother, I have written about it before. I believe this has caused me to not care about myself as much as I should, it’s caused me to allow others to mistreat me my entire life. It’s caused serious problems in my life to have a mother who is absent, who I never really hear from, who is mentally ill, who has never really shown any love or care for me.
Because of this I think I am not as selective with people, and I jump on the first person who ever gives me the time of day because I am so trained to think I am unwanted and if I don’t make this one person pleased, they will abandon me and I won’t be able to find anyone else. It’s weird.
I came across a person’s profile, we will call him Tony. It said he was into BDSM and was a feminist (HAHAHA NOPE) and it also showed we had a common connection, a girl who listens to the same podcast I do and I have actually met in person in a meetup group. I thought, great, here is a guy who maybe could fit this role I am looking for, he maybe listens to the same podcast, great! I messaged him. He did not know of the podcast or the girl (they must have a mutual friend but not know each other). I asked him about the BDSM, he said he was dominant, which is the kind of guy I was looking for since I am more submissive (this could because of my childhood trauma and trauma from Eric but let’s not explore that right now). He suggested that we meet up and “discuss it”. My first reaction was to be terrified and nervous and I thought, no I can’t actually meet up with this attractive stranger and possibly have sex with a stranger, can I? No, that is too scary.
I kept thinking about it and finally decided, this is a great opportunity to meet a really attractive Portland hipster with cute rectangular glasses who is into the same thing you are and is the same type you are looking for in every way. He even had a fucking Harry Potter tattoo for God’s sake, I could not have asked for a more perfect man to fit my fantasy (that’s the sad part. Also his tattoo was the death eater symbol so…yeah that should have been a warning to me).
I agreed to meet him, put on a nice dress, did my makeup and hair, took a deep breath and met him.
I think I might have even written a blog post about this before, not knowing what was to come. He kept putting his hand on my shoulder as he talked and the pressure on my shoulder was intoxicating, like this human being actually touching me was absolutely wonderful. After a drink and talking more and getting more comfortable he asked if I wanted to go back to his house he shared with roommates and…You know. I said no at first, and then changed my mind because I decided, what the fuck. I came all this way, surely he will have condoms and it will be safe. I don’t ever have to meet with him again, I can at least get laid SAFELY this one night and maybe be good for a while. If only it were that simple as a woman to have safe sex with someone from Tinder.
Part of me worried I would be murdered, but this bizarre grief stricken part of me thought, “It would be okay if I got murdered as long as it was quick. Then I would never feel pain again. I wouldn’t have to live without my brother, and I would have no worries any longer.”
He did not murder me. But he did bizarrely try to put his dick inside me without a condom at first. I was shocked, and flinched away from him and moved away. That time he got the hint and went to get a condom. I was surprised that he had been seriously about to fuck a total stranger without even asking if I wanted to use a condom or without even trying to protect himself. He had asked me how long it had been since I had sex so maybe he was using that as a safety gauge. So dumb.
That first time we had sex with a condom and it was pretty much fine, except when at one point he was rubbing his bare dick on my private parts, which even at the time seemed extremely unsafe and like it defeated the purpose of the condom but stupid me, I said nothing.
The second time we met up he was not as much of a “nice guy”. It was my birthday even, that is what makes it even sadder. I keep going over everything he said to me in my mind. He said offhand that he had “H2” I assume he meant herpes. He said flippantly, “Which everyone who is sexually active has anyway.” I remember thinking…”No…Not everyone has that. What a ridiculous thing to say.”
He talked about the sex clubs he had been to, all the people he had sex with, how he loved swinging, how he had two somewhat serious relationships going on currently. How he met up with a new person every week or so. How he wanted to go back to school and become a nurse because he hated his current career in finances. I hope to god he never becomes a nurse. It terrifies me to think of it.
On his profile it also said he was a sadist, as well as being dominant.
The time we met up on my birthday we had sex for a short period of time with no condom and I cannot remember how it even happened. I felt pressured, I was not in the position of power, I feel like he just started doing it and I felt at that point like it was too late to stop anything and I was screwed no matter what now. He did not finish inside me, which is the only thing I can hold onto as my salvation. Afterwards he asked if I had any regrets which just seemed like a slap in the face. He wanted to make sure I couldn’t go back and say I regretted what happened and didn’t want it. I said no. That’s on me, I fully admit this. I lied and said I had no regrets when I did, and I allowed something to happen that I should have stopped before it could happen. What I don’t understand is his use of condoms, and then not use. We started off using one, he even had bought special ones which “felt better” then it came off or got stuck in me or something stupid happened and there was an excuse not to put another one back on. The excuses or reasons men will give for being awful and not being safe when it comes to condom use.
He admitted that it was a really stupid decision and a stupid thing we did. Only now do I think back on it and realize he had every reason to regret what he did too, because he didn’t even know I have high risk HPV – didn’t bother to even ask, the dumbass. I now obviously really wish I had told him upfront, “Yeah just so you know I have fucking HPV so for YOUR FUCKING SAFETY wrap your shit up asshole.” then maybe he would have been more careful and not pressured me and what happened the next time we met would not have happened. I wish so badly I had told him what I had, because then he would have used a condom every time and he wouldn’t have been such an idiot. Now he has it too and his poor girlfriend who he is in a serious relationship with will have to deal with it as well, the same as I am dealing with it now.
The third time we met up, I had already been dealing with symptoms which I took to be a yeast infection. Not sure why I kept trying to lie to myself and act like there was no way anything bad had happened, not sure why I assumed it was a yeast infection and didn’t just get tested right then and there. If I had, it wouldn’t have been as bad as it turned out to be.
Instead I met him a third time. This time I am firm in my convictions. I thought to myself, “It’s not too late. I need to be safe. I am going to bring a condom, I am going to make sure he uses it and there is not going to be another mistake. I am going to be safe about this.”
I brought a Trojan condom of my own, actually I brought two. I went there, to my fucking doom. I pulled out the condom, I said I brought this for you to use, but if you don’t want to use this one it’s okay. He of course being a terrible person twisted my words and said, “Oh I don’t have to use it?” I very clearly said, “No I mean you don’t have to use this particular one, you can use one of YOURS if you would rather.”
I could not have been clearer about my desire to use condoms. Seriously.
He mentioned that he didn’t have any more of his good quality condoms, just the other kind. We used a condom, it kept coming off him and getting stuck in me because he insisted on putting so much lube on the inside of the damn thing.
He tried putting it in without a condom on and I stopped him. I said very clearly, “Can you do this with a condom on?” He grumbled a little bit but put one on.
The really awful part was when I decided to stay the night there. I could have just got up, got dressed and left, feeling good about the fact that I had been safe and did things the right way and finally stood up for my own safety. I could have left. I did not, and instead stayed the night because I really just wanted to be held and to have human physical affection, which is so desperately sad when I think about it. All this just so someone would fucking hold me.
I had a hard time falling asleep and I kept shifting. Just as I was finally drifting off to sleep I felt him suddenly move quickly on top of me (I was laying on my stomach so he was on top of my back) he essentially began having sex with me, with no condom, while I was laying there not quite asleep but almost asleep and for all he knew I was sleeping.
I didn’t stop it or freak out right away, it took me a moment to fully process what was going on. I realized there was no way he had protection on because we had gone from laying there going to sleep to this, there was no rustling around, and he had done it so quickly almost as if to make it happen before I could question or stop it.
When I stopped him after a few moments and turned around he simply said, “You had enough?” and then proceeded to stand up, put clothes on and say rather rudely, “It’s really late so you either have to leave or we need to go to sleep. I don’t want to be blunt about it but…I need to go to sleep now. It was so rude and unthoughtful and STRANGE that it took my breath away. He had just fucking violated me, and now he was basically saying, “You are keeping me awake, you need to get the fuck out.” I had been trying to sleep. I should have just left before that happened. I just can’t believe he was that horrible to say that to me after doing something he knew I didn’t want him to do.
The sad part is, I still stayed there. At that point I was so emotionally confused and shattered, I didn’t know what to do. So I stayed. The next morning I left, but not before going pee and feeling such awful pain it was as if I was peeing out shards of broken glass, that’s what it felt like. Peeing out knives. Oh and before I left I pointedly asked him, “Do you use condoms with other people you have sex with?” and he sheepishly said, “I usually do but sometimes I do slip up. I know we should be using condoms, I just get too excited. But I was just tested two and a half weeks ago so it’s fine.” Fucking liar.
In such awful pain the next day. I finally decided I had to suck up the shame and I needed to go to urgent care and get looked at. That’s when it all went downhill like a mudslide.
I got checked out and tested. I explained that not only was I feeling the pain when peeing but I was now suddenly feeling stabbing pains in my abdomen and on my mons pubis, just stabbing pain within my body somewhere. I was in sheer panic. The doctor mentioned that I could have PID, which is a result of getting Chlamydia, not just once but this second time now and not catching it for almost a month. The bacteria can then more easily get into your system and fuck your shit up even worse. It can cause infertility, or even death if you don’t treat it. The doctor gave me a shot and medication to start taking as a precaution just in case. Then the results came in and she said I did have Chlamydia and that’s what was causing my symptoms.
Messaged Tony and told the bastard. All he said was, “Thanks for letting me know.” fucker.
I was in shock. The same infection, which I have never gotten before ever in my life, and now I had gotten it from two different people one after the other, within half a year. What the fuck. On top of that, the panic began to truly set in because he had lied about being tested, clearly. What else was he lying about? What else did he give me? Did he do this on purpose? Was he that much of a monster that he went around purposefully infecting women in this way? What else did I have? What have I done?
Then slowly the realization started to sink in that I was indeed sexually assaulted. The fact that I wanted to be safe, tried to be safe, and ended up being violated and infected anyway because of someone else’s actions that I had no control over. I started looking into it and realized how many men do this shit, and that it is called “stealthing” and it is sexual assault. I still felt guilty because I had put myself in the situation and I knew I shouldn’t have gone back to see him after the night of my birthday, I knew he was an unsafe person and he kept mentioning these rape fantasies he had where he takes the condom off and gets girls pregnant. I swear the only reason he didn’t try to go that far was because he asked if I was on birth control (looking back, of course he asked that because he was already planning on doing this shit) and I said no I am not. That might be the only thing that saved me from getting it worse because he didn’t really want to get me pregnant.
What followed was basically a nightmare. I was sobbing every single day. I was waking up in the middle of the night, shaking and panicking, my heart pounding, my entire body literally seizing up and shaking with anxiety and panic. My body no longer felt like mine (it still doesn’t). I was feeling stabbing pains in in my pelvis and I was convinced that there was something really wrong with me. I tried reaching out to my sister and she brushed off my panic. She said, “The infection is curable. Not a big deal.” She couldn’t understand that I wasn’t as worried about that as I was about the PID getting worse, or worried about something permanent that he could have given me. Suddenly I was convinced that I was given HIV because my body just felt weird, I was feeling pains all over. I woke up the next week with a sore throat and my panic exploded within me. I looked it up and of course google tells me, “Sore throat can be a sign of HIV, pains can be a sign, cough, etc.” I went to the doctor again and he basically laughed at me. He said the same thing as my sister which was, this STI you got is very common. You are being treated for it. The medicine is going to take time to heal you. Your sore throat? The tests came back and you have Strep. Here’s some medicine that will help that and that also cures STI’s, double whammy. I would bet my house that you don’t have HIV. Did he ejaculate inside you? Is he bisexual? Does he use intravenous drugs? I highly doubt you have that then. You will be okay. (BTW if anyone reading this has any anecdotal stories about why this advice is not sound and how you can get that illness anyway no matter what please do not comment and tell me this. It’s not helpful and I will only continue to panic which is making my symptoms worse.)
Actually that doctor was highly comforting, perhaps the most comforting person I met throughout all this. I was crying in front of him and in sheer panic and I told him how stupid I felt for what I had done and he said, “What, for being human? You’re human. It is okay.” It meant so much for me to hear. I am only human.
I got the medicine for strep. Started taking that. Then while my body was good and beaten down, I got a full blown cold. Obviously now I was in such a panic I was almost having like a psychotic episode, fully out-of-body, could not think, could not eat, and could not even function whatsoever. I didn’t know why I was suddenly getting so sick after this one sexual assault incident, what it meant, if it meant I was dying or going to die, if I would ever get better.
Basically my panicking and high levels of stress caused me to lose my mind worse than I have since I was a child. I thought I was seriously losing it. The panic caused me to have even worse symptoms, like my hands going numb, my whole body hurting, tugging sensations in my arms and legs, etc. All which caused me to panic more.
I will continue this, but this entry is already crazy long. This is part one of the story. I felt the need to share this as a warning to people so that others can be aware of the dangers of Tinder and what can happen. To be continued.