Is this love?

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  • Published: 21 May 2018
  • Updated: 22 May 2018
  • Status: Complete
Looking back, I can see why people would call me a slut. But that sure as hell doesn’t give them the right to do it.
They broke me. Can I ever be fixed again?


1. Where it all began

I´m 20 years old. 20. Am I a woman or a girl. I do not know. I do not know who I am.

The people around me, friends, family and boyfriend, they define me. They help other people figure out who I am as a person, by seeing who I chose as friends and where I come from.

I will not let the people of my past define me as who I am as a person. I´ve grown since. They have nothing to do with me and nor do I have anything to do with them. But why is it, that we in this world choose to define people upon their past. I don’t want to do that to anyone, but people tend to do that to me and it makes me physically sick. I hate it. But it also makes me think that they have a point. Because if I ever met someone like me, I would think "slut" too. Why is it like that. I hate that I am this way. I just want to live a normal life, and not think about my past. Lately, not thinking about my past is nearly impossible. I don´t go to school anymore, I have a great boyfriend and my best friend. I live with my boyfriend, life should be pretty great for me, right? Well, it's not. I am in pain and I do not know what to do. It´s been four years, and I still wish I could have done those years differently. But it is like a snowball down the hill, it rolls fast and grows big. Just like the problems that had no end for me, since I still can´t get rid of the voice in my head, saying that I did all of this to myself and that i should have done everything different. But it wasn´t like that, I was young and dumb. I didn´t think. The only thing I did think, was that it would solve it self - because I didn´t do anything. But I should´ve. I am in constant regret. I do not want to be the type to regret their past. But I really do.

It all started in the summer of 2014. I came back from a year as an exchange student that summer. Maybe it started over there. I just started drinking and I was having a lot of fun with my friends. That summer I had my very first “one night stand”. He was a friend of my good friend, so it seemed like he liked me. It wasn’t good. It was on the beach and I hardly remember him inside me. But of course my friends found out and they thought it was funny. And I guess I found it funny too. We texted over the summer, but it became nothing more than that. We were just drunk. This was the first of many.

I started school again. A whole new school - which meant a whole new world of boys.

I live in a small city, with only one business college for my age. Of course my summer beach flirt guy was in the same class as me. It was awkward and eventually everyone in the class knew that we hooked up over the summer. That meant I already had a title of the class - slut. I acted as if I didn’t care, because why should I? He eventually moved to another country and I haven’t talked to him ever since.

The first week of school went well. I made new friends and they seemed to like me.
The first party the school held was almost mandatory, since it was for freshmen in particular, but others could also join the big party held in the cafeteria at school. My new friends and I had a pre party at this one girls garage. It was a great evening and we had lots of fun drinking. I drank a lot more than I should’ve. But I was a blast. I don’t remember much from that night. But I do remember hooking up with "ugly-face". I do not want to remember this, but we did do it in the boys bathroom at school. We weren’t alone… two boys were looking at us over the stalls. They even took a picture and sent it to their friends. I don’t know why people would ever think that this is ok. I was indeed hurt. But my image as the fun, outgoing girl, who doesn’t give a damn, had to stay that way. I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t let some stupid boys break me. But my friends kept laughing at me and thought it was funny, that I was caught hooking up with a guy. But those girls didn’t know shit about anything related to guys and their dicks. I was ashamed of my self that night. I couldn´t believe what i just did. I didn't want to talk or see him ever again, so I ran out on him. Later it came to my attention that "Ugly-face" went around school telling people that I had my period and that I had bled all over him. It was a lie. Why would he say that to his friends? 
My friends, however, thought I was ok. That I was ok with him lying about me, and that my good friend A recievied a photo of me hooking up with a guy in the boys bathroom. They all laughed about it for weeks. It was never ok the things that happened. But none of the things that happened to me in the following year and a half was nothing near ok. I didn´t know what to do.
Later that night of the party I found comfort in another guy, who I came to like very much. But it wasn’t returned. He played me, he played me hard. Lets call him J. We kissed a lot that night, and I remember it being nice. I wanted to kiss him, he was sweet and kind, sort of dorky, and he seemed to really care for me. This also had to be remembered forever, since my friends took a lot of pictures of me and J kissing. I was very drunk. I couldn’t even stand on my feet, how was I supposed to stop them or anyone from taking advantage of me? Were they even real friends?

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