Find Out What Women REALLY Think, Their First Time!


I was seventeen years old, and everyone else was doing it. It was time to lose my virginity.

My first steady boyfriend, Randy, was downstairs with me in our finished basement, lights out. My parents weren’t home.

He (breathlessly): “Are you sure?”
Me (fake gasp): “Oh, yes!”

Fake Orgasm vs Fake Relationship

But when Randy stripped off his pants, the gasp that came out of me was real. I almost changed my mind.

The only weenies I’d ever seen were the itty-bitty fingertips between the legs of babies. (These were olden times, before explicit films and the internet.) Bearing down on me was this jutting, ugly-as-hell TUBE thing—A thing my boyfriend intended to shove up me. No way.

But I had decided this was the night. I let Randy climb on top. He worked that ugly tube inside while I lay on my back, knees bent, with the bottoms of my feet facing the ceiling.

That was the first time in my life I had ever been in that position.

***

Men, if you’ve ever been curious, here are a real woman’s actual thoughts from her very first experience of lovemaking:

This is not natural.

This is the most vulnerable position for a human to be in, on the back with the belly exposed.

I feel like a turtle stuck on its shell.

I hate this.

Why have older women been LYING to younger women about this?!

Turtle On Its Back

.

I was furious. Furious at WOMEN. How DARE they not share with all girls that there was nothing at all good about sex. That it was all just a fraud, as far as women were concerned.

Even though I came, my first time, I didn’t know what was happening—it was just a physical response, like a pleasant flush of heat. That small diversion wasn’t enough to make up for the extreme awkwardness and vulnerability of the unusual position, and my lack of emotional involvement.

Uninvolved Sex

In my case, it took a year until brain and body got their acts together and I got the hang of it all. (I have it now. 🙂 )

(If you’re still a virgin, and a straight female: This post–from Teen Vogue–don’t laugh–is a great quick read about what first times can be like.)

***

So…it’s the next morning. I’m in the kitchen, and the phone rings.

“It’s Maria—Guess what?”
“Okay: What?”

“Rob and I did it last night.”
“What?”

“You know: Rob and I did IT last night!” crowed my pal.
“You’re kidding! Randy and I did it last night, TOO!!”, I crowed back.

“Hah, hah, April Fool’s!” laughed Maria.

***

I wish there was a photograph of my face right then.

Yes, my dears: My first experience of the glories of sex occurred after midnight on March 31st, making me a true April Fool.

Eight weeks later, I found out just how much of a fool—for we had not used a condom, and I was pregnant.

April Fool in Dunce Cap

.

Why did it take until the 8th week for me to know? Did I not miss a period sooner?

Even during my first adult pregnancy, my periods continued for months, although they were very light.

***

It was 1973. I lived in a house with two abusive parents: Parents who had not only broken my sister’s jaw, but, far worse, tried to break our sense of worth by verbally abusing us daily, accompanied by hard cuffs across the face.

Although I was underweight and hungry much of the time. I’d been forbidden to take healthy food like bread and milk to eat when I arrived home from school each day. No longer were my clothes being provided.

My father was making around $400,000 a year in today’s dollars.

Dayum is Not an Acceptable Word

.

Was I to give birth to a baby while living in that house, to be abused as I had been?
Having severe pet allergies, I had no other options for where to live.

I knew my fetus was better off never being born. Abortion was the only responsible, adult decision I could make.

A handful of other teen girls had gotten abortions, arranged by their parents, even prior to the Roe v. Wade decision. They had been whisked out-of-state, taken to private doctors, and come back to school to buzzing whispers.

That wasn’t going to happen for me. I was so scared. What could I do?

After extremely quiet inquiries, one of my childhood friends came to me privately and let me know that the Planned Parenthood in Downtown (Manhattan) performed abortions, for $100–over $500 in today’s dollars.

I was deeply grateful to this friend: She was devoutly Catholic, and for her to provide this information was to me a sign both of her deep caring, and also her understanding that abortion was the right choice in my case, with my family.

Not long afterward, the Pope issued an edict excommunicating all Catholics who provided, or even had ALREADY provided, any assistance whatsoever to those obtaining abortions. My friend was devastated at the cost of her help to me.

Fuck the Pope But Use a Condom

However, the Current Pope Does Seem a Big Improvement

I had $8 to my name. Babysitting back then paid $1 an hour, and jobs were hard to come by. Where would I get $100?

As I investigated my options, the days ticked by. My boyfriend told me “Don’t worry about it—I’ll take care of it.” but I wasn’t counting on HIM. It wasn’t HIS body that was pregnant.

Finally, I gave in and approached my friend Naomi. In Senior year, we weren’t as close, but I knew our friendship was still there.

I asked Naomi if she would lend me the money, without knowing what it was for, or when I would be able to pay her back. This was a large amount for back then, but she of course said Yes.

Lending to a Friend

Because that’s what friends do.

The day of the appointment. I’m now at ten weeks. Randy and I meet up, and he hands over a crisp new $100 bill. What the what?!

“Where did you get this?!”
“I told you not to worry about it.”
“But where did you get this?”
“I just did. Let’s go.”

I can tell there’s something…off. But I don’t have time for it.

We bus it across the George Washington bridge, take the subway to Planned Parenthood. I sit down opposite an unsmiling, unfriendly black woman (her color will be pertinent). When we get to the part about payment, she asks for TWO hundred dollars—not one.

Surprised Cat Peeping Over Desk

.

“But—I was told by my friend that it costs $100!”

“You came over the bridge today, right?”
“Yes…”

“You live with your parents, right?”
“Yes…”

“Two hundred dollars.”
She looked with hatred at me.

I grew up in a highly-mixed neighborhood. This was my first experience of negative assumptions being made about me based upon my appearance: My color, my features, my style of dress, my manner of speech.

I could suddenly tell that this woman had decided that she was seeing a privileged WHITE suburban girl who could easily afford the highest rate charged on the center’s sliding scale. It took some minutes of talking before I convinced her that I’d had trouble getting ONE hundred dollars.

Two hours later, I was led into a room where a suction abortion was performed. It hurt a lot, but not as much as my monthly cramps (my family were cramp champions).

I felt only relief.

Never have I ever felt any remorse. If I could go back in time and advise teen Babe on what to do, I would say:
“What do YOU think, Babe?”—and then I would heartily endorse her abortion choice.

***

Randy and I left Planned Parenthood that day and got on the subway. Almost immediately, I began feeling ill. I had to get off that shaky dark subway—now.

We slowly climbed up the subway stairs to the outdoors and made our way to a sunny triangular pocket-park, where we sat on a little wooden bench. While we sat, a very tall man came and sat close by my side. Moments later, another large man sat close by Randy’s side, so that we were sandwiched between.

The guys started talking with us, and we with them–I wasn’t feeling that chatty, but was trying to be polite. One of the men suddenly started laughing hysterically. I asked:

“What’s so funny?”
“Don’t you kids know where you are? You’re sitting smack-dab in the middle of HARLEM!”

Harlem: The Ghetto. New York City- Harlem- juillet 1970: le ghetto; containers rouillÈs sur le trottoir abritant des feux et dÈtritus dans une rue. (Photo by Jack Garofalo/Paris Match via Getty Images)

Harlem: The Ghetto. New York City- Harlem- juillet 1970: le ghetto; containers rouillÈs sur le trottoir abritant des feux et dÈtritus dans une rue. (Photo by Jack Garofalo/Paris Match via Getty Images)

My. That WAS a surprise. (Perhaps the guys had been surprised, also: That two white-looking suburban kids hadn’t been discomfited when two large black men had sat close beside us.)

The guys explained that we had better not try to walk back to the subway alone. (It’s possible they were exaggerating, but in ’73, they may not have been.) One provided his company as we made our way back, and boarded the subway for the relative safety of suburbia.

Where I thanked Naomi, and returned her money.

***

My largest charitable donation each year does not go to Planned Parenthood.

It is my second-largest.

They saved two lives that day. Not mine and Randy’s. Mine, and the life of my would-have-been-abused child.

I have donated to them annually since 1973.

***

My mother used to tell me, often, that were abortion made legal retroactively, she would have never had me.

.

.

SAD-ENDUM

I learned, later, that my then-boyfriend had obtained his “Don’t worry about it” hundred dollars by performing his first major theft. He had:

– broken a window,
– stolen equipment clearly marked with the owning company’s name—but marked with removable marker!
– gone into the downtown Manhattan K-Mart, where the manager purchased these clearly-stolen goods in exchange for a crisp $100 bill.

I urged that POS (piece-of-sugar) boyfriend to make restitution, which he did not.
However, I shamefully did not break up with him quite yet. When I did, a few months later, this is the boy who raped me.

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43 Comments

  1. I am beyond words.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Thank you for reading this one, Greg. When I think of the backlash against feminism–how much worse things are today –and all those girls who now don’t have anywhere to get help–

      I sometimes want to rise up and shout “Women! It’s time! Tonight, let’s all make like Diomedes did on the Thracians!”

      Then I calm down and realize you-all are still good for getting off jar lids.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  2. Thank you for opening my eyes to a different perspective. I’m saddened that you had to go through something like this (referring to your home situation). Being a parent can be difficult but being decent to your children isn’t that hard.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Thank you for reading such a long downer of a post.

      There are so many parents who are not decent to their children. I believe there is a large set overlap with those who are not decent to their partners–they are bullies. Then you have the parents who are terrible because they are so immature and selfish they would never put anyone’s needs ahead of their own.

      I agree: Being decent to your children–or they to you, once of an age–isn’t that hard.

      Like

      Reply
      • And yet, I’m astounded by how many people fail in this simple task. It really does come down to putting the needs of your family before your own. I understand that if you were raised in abusive environment it is different than being raised in a healthy environment, but I have never understood those that physically harm the ones they’re supposed to love. I won’t even touch on other forms of abuse.

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply
  3. I appreciate your story.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Thank you for reading such a long dry post, Joey. Of course I had to write it at some point, and why not today?

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      • Why not today, indeed.
        I thought it was a good post, and well-timed given our current political weather.
        I was a patient at PP for several years and it’s the people at PP who told me my youngest was on her way. Some people would say my situation was different, but it’s not. Women’s health care should include our entire reproductive system and what we chose to do with it. I have volunteered at PP and continue to donate as well. We need MORE of them.

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply
  4. You know, this is interesting. I wrote a post yesterday about my house and more or the less the premise that my kids are growing up in such a stable, loving household. The thought occurred to me as I was writing it, that there would probably be people who would read it and not be able to really relate. Then I read this. It really puts it into perspective how differently one kids life can be to another. Unfortunately child abuse is still “a thing” and probably always will be. I can’t comprehend it.

    Like

    Reply
    • How did I miss that post? Going over to check it out now.

      Yes. There are lots of terrible parents out there. Many worse than mine, although mine were pretty bad.

      Your kids are lucky–blessed–and so are you. 🙂

      Thanks for reading such a long, downer post!

      Like

      Reply
  5. Anyone who is anti abortion should read this. Or be given six newborns to raise. Good for you for being brave and doing what you had to do. xo

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Thank you, Grandmalin.
      X O back your way
      I like both your ideas, except for my fear that those who still remain anti-choice are narrow-thinking in many ways, and would cause emotional harm to those six children.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  6. That was such a brutally candid post, Babe. I’m so sorry for all you had to endure, but I’d have done exactly the same, in my teenage years or beyond. Prior to 73 and Roe v Wade, a good friend had an illegal abortion, a horrible procedure. We can never go back.

    Planned Parenthood performs so many services for women who would have no place else to go. I’ve supported them over the years. Thanks for sharing your story.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Thank you for reading such a long, and grim, post, Van. Truly terrible about your friend, and the thousands of other women and girls who have suffered and will continue to suffer the same.

      We will see if the Zika virus makes any difference in the female-subjugating abortion stances held in most of the Latin and South American countries.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  7. Babe,
    You do have stories to tell. The post was not grim enough to stop reading, because it is real. Variations on that theme happen every day, and we wonder why so-called civilized people can’t break out of the rut. Too bad you didn’t have good role models. There are few In society at large, it seems to me, yet it doesn’t have to be this way.

    I think to starve a child, or to make a control issue out of food, is one of the most hurtful things a parent can do, especially if food is available.

    The blogosphere seems to be a generally supportive network of open-minded individuals. Perhaps it can mentor the younger folks so that they can avoid some of the traps.
    Libby Belle

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • I want to be fair: I got meals. When I was young, my mother was so embarrassed by people asking “Don’t you feed that child?” that she even bought me weight-loss shakes to drink in addition to my these, to try to add weight. But by junior high and high school, she’d changed, which is where your point about control comes in. I wasn’t getting enough protein for my high activity level. My brother was allowed seconds and sometimes thirds on meat “because he’s the boy.” I supposedly wasn’t allowed milk any more, except on cereal, nor bread as a meal supplement, because I was “eating us out of house and home.” Yet I was told I could fill up on Ring Dings (gooey chocolate-iced cake snacks).

      In Senior year, I was diagnosed with Type I diabetes, with a blood sugar above 650, and told I would have to go straight to insulin injections. Luckily, I refused, my sugar came under control with strict diet alone, and I am fine today.
      🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
    • Gee, Libby, I didn’t respond at all to the sympathy implicit in your comment, nor thank you for reading. Thank you, for both.
      O (that’s a hug)
      –O. Babe

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      • O Babe,
        Sounds like a set-up for anorexia, bulimia, or other food control issues. I’m currently reading “Diet for a Small Planet,” the classic by Frances Moore Lappe. I’ve only just begun, but she gives sound nutrition advice. My personal guideline is to get maximum food value for money, which means buying basic staples (like beans, nuts, whole grains–for protein complementarity), boycotting packaging as much as possible, and shopping with reusable bags that remind me to buy less food but more often, don’t buy more than the bag can hold, and turn food over as rapidly as possible.
        Libby Belle
        aka Cookie Chef and Bookie Worm
        alter egos of katharineotto.wordpress.com

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply
        • Surprisingly, I have never had food hangups. I ate the standard middle-American diet, with less meat, more veggies (because I like them) minus dessert after every meal (because I just didn’t see the need), minus salty snacks (never liked those: chips and the like). As I learned about whole grains, I switched over to those. I WAS still pigging out on cookies on occasion, and eating sweet desserts on occasion. I cut those out except for a rare eating-out occasion, a couple of decades ago.

          My diet is now restricted for other reasons which actually make an interesting post. I basically now get to eat rice, buckwheat, GF oatmeal, long beans, squash, carrots, fruits, and eggs. Anything else, in tiny amounts. And yet, I’m experiencing weight gain. While walking 3 miles a day and doing door pushups. Go figure. Guess I’m eating a f*ckton of rice!

          Liked by 1 person

          Reply
          • White rice or whole grain?

            Like

            Reply
            • Whole-grain brown 🙂

              On Thursday, 4 February 2016, The Last Half wrote:

              >

              Liked by 1 person

            • I thought so. Good for you. Incidentally, people here ask me how to cook brown rice, because they are so unfamiliar with it. My simple recipe is one-and-a-half cups water to one cup brown rice. Let the water boil (with salt and butter if desired), add rice and stir, then turn stove as low as it will go, and cook covered 30-45 minutes, stirring only once more, at around 15 minutes. The main difference between that and white rice is that I only use(d) one-and-one-fourth cups of water and cooked white rice only 20 minutes.

              Liked by 1 person

  8. L

     /  2016/01/22

    No words.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Dear Linda,

      Thank you very much for taking the time to read such a lengthy and grim piece. I am fine, now, by the way, and did not feel in a dark place while writing it, or not any darker than the slough of despond I’ve been paddling in lately. It was simply time to tell this story, and the right day to tell it. My next piece will be a lighter palate-cleanser–I hope!

      –O. Babe

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  9. I don’t even know where to begin with my comments on this one, so I’ll keep it brief. Thank you for your bravery in sharing this story.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Thank you for thanking me. I’ll take your praise, although it may be more Aspie TMI oversharing than bravery. I’ve been shying away from writing some more difficult posts–ones that expose me at my weakest.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      • It’s not. I composed a lengthy comment that I deleted. I’m finding inspiration in your posts, and that wouldn’t be there if you over-edited. I’m inspired and compelled by your “lengthy” posts. Keep them coming.

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply
  10. I had an abortion as well, at 19. I regret it now, but those are MY feelings, and I don’t impose them upon anyone else. Planned parenthood helped me too, and in the same area. I was in Edgewood NJ, coming from the village (NYU). In my situation, and hindsight being what it is, I ought to have given the baby up for adoption. The only reason I didn’t is because I didn’t want to hurt my boyfriend, his family, or mine, by not keeping the baby. Great post. Really great post. We should have more discussions on the topic. Everyone is so afraid to bring up abortion these days, since it’s such a hot button for so many people, but I firmly believe those people have never had abortions. Things aren’t quite so black and white when you’ve been pregnant with only crappy options before you.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    • I’m sorry you felt cornered into making the absolute wrong decision for you. As far as still feeling regret over it:

      My now-97-year-old friend Millie met, when she was 50, a slightly older woman who told her that all regret was a pointless waste of time. Millie reports that she, too, saw the light, and she hasn’t wasted a moment on regret since. When Millie first told me this, back in…2007?…I thought it was a goal not achievable, and possibly not worthy. Can one stay moral without regret as a motivator?

      Millie practically glows with saintliness. To encounter her casually once is to like her instantly; to get to know her is to adore her madly. She looks amazing, besides.

      I would say a regret-free second half-century has done Millie’s soul no harm.

      It has taken me nine years, but I am learning to apply the no-regret wisdom. Perhaps you will be smarter and swifter than I, and that painful still-open wound can finally mend.

      Thank you so much for that “great post”. And thank you especially for reading when I haven’t been back to your place since laughing my #ss off on my first visit. Obviously, I needed to wait for reargeneration to complete.
      (I will get over there soon. To your blog–not to my back end. I know from skimming your current post how traumatizing that latter thought might be!)

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  11. I agree with so much you expressed here. If only people could “walk a mile in the others moccasins or shoes. . .” Women’s rights is important for all, not just women. Plus, men and Christians who are judging should remember the emotions change should your best friend who has 3 grown teens gets pregnant and the hormonal changes cause cancer to spread until she has baby and is dead 2 years later. I wanted to scream at those who supported her decision to have baby when an abortion would have allowed her a chance at life, 3 teens to have their mother see them get married and future grandchildren lost her. She was my mentor and teacher, too. 😦
    My Mom signed in 1975 a form at an abortion clinic of my dear college friend for her abortion. She sometimes faces twinge of regret but at the time raising a baby, product of rape, was an even rougher place to be. Her parents would have disowned her and my mother chose to assist my friend. We are still close, friend and I bonded by a secret and some regrets. Choices are important in the first 8 weeks of life before the second trimester when the brain is connected to the spinal cord and the fetus can “think.” Before 3 months the baby is like a brain dead person on life support. I would wish my plug that connects me to life support to be disconnected. Just dropped by snd somehow was moved to share two different stories, one who did not choose to have abortion and one who did: Both faced irreconcilable onsequences. ~ Robin

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Oh, Robin, I’m so sorry!

      The tragedies you tell of, which affected so many: They are like the opposite of the comedic images in children’s stories where objects accumulate in a series (The Golden Goose, If You Give any ANYone ANYthing) or make enormous stacks (Yertle the Turtle, The Princess and the Pea, the 1000 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins). If all of the harm caused by forced pregnancies (forced by societal pressures outward and inward) were stacked up visually–the direct harms to women’s physical bodies, the deaths and resulting harms to families, friends, businesses, the extended harms through the generations caused by children inadequately parented (absent moms having to work two jobs, neglected or abused kids in foster care)…

      The stack of direct harms and outward ripples is horrible to contemplate.

      Thank you very much for stopping by, and contributing a comment of such great worth, at what must have been a significant personal cost in the recollecting and recording.

      –O. Babe

      Like

      Reply
  12. WOW! The first time ever and you got knocked up??? Damn! 😂😂😂

    You were totally had twice in a row Babe, first by Randy literally and then by Maria! 😆😆😆Was she kidding though?! Cause I’d definitely have retraced my steps and told her I was just goofing off! Hehehe

    I had mixed feelings with this piece Babe, its kinda ‘complicated’! For all its worth, and though he sourced for that $100 bill the absolute wrong way, Randy did stick close by and had your back! His young heart was in the right place! Some other guy at that age you both were at the time woulda panicked and ditched you…left you to your own devices to deal with things and made a quick run for it at the mention of the word ‘pregnancy’! *tsking

    The things teens get up to with parents being none the wiser is pretty scary! Supposing you got mugged and kidnapped in that rough neighbourhood; wherever would your parents have thought to commence their search? 🙉 Question for the gods! 😞😆

    Thanks for sharing this bit Babe, and some folks actually did have it so much better their first time ever, especially ones who didn’t feel ‘pressured’ to give it away in order to fit in; cause every other person’s doing it anyhow! Either way, whoever survives those wonder years as a teen without getting burnt or literally bursting and going up in flames….will survive anything by really! 😂😂😂

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • Maria and I were close enough friends that I wanted to tell her what had happened. As for Randy, yes, it’s good he stuck by me, but still…

      Your comment “wherever would your parents have thought to commence their search?” made me laugh. Yemi, they wouldn’t have searched, or would have searched only as much as required for social appearances.

      Your last paragraph is so true. Peer pressure is a killer. In my freshman year at college, we actually kept a chart on the wall of which of us girls in the entire dorm were virgins and which not, and checked off as each virgin “fell”. Talk about pressure! The poor things. By the end of the semester, only 1 virgin remained–no surprise.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      • Oh C’mon Babe, surely you do NOT mean that! That they would look the other way and not go looking for their daughter like really?! 😯REALLY??? 😠 Am mortified! 🙉🙊

        Plus, that bit bout keeping a chart sooo brazenly and openly is gotta be the weirdest, most bizarre thing I’ve heard in….forever! Jeez!!!! 😩

        Like

        Reply
        • That chart business is disgusting, isn’t it? I don’t THINK girls would do that today. I hope not. We didn’t think of it as pressuring anyone. We were simply keeping track. But of COURSE it was public humiliation and pressure. What innocent little dim-bulbs we all were.
          🙄

          Liked by 1 person

          Reply
          • Innocent dim bulbs ei?! 😂😂😂 Your way with words Babe….no words! 😆😆😆

            Liked by 1 person

            Reply
            • Ye, praise me?

              Your tongue and fingers fly with wit,
              and just the same with all your friends,
              If I had just one-tenth of it,
              my verse would terminate without

              dead ends.

              😥

              Liked by 1 person

            • I hear you Babe like duh! 😛Yeah right! 😑😩 Hmf! 😈😆

              Liked by 1 person

        • As for my parents, Yemi, surely I do mean that. Those of us with parents like mine, and worse ones, can be frustrated at how the rest of you refuse to accept that there are parents like mine, and worse ones. But then we come to accept that some of you will never come to accept it. Even after my Mommy Hyde series. And I haven’t even yet written about dear old dad.

          Liked by 1 person

          Reply
          • Aw! Its just really unimaginable….unthinkable but we’ll learn to come to grips with that hard biting cold reality that some parents are just ‘unbelievable’ perhaps???? 🙉

            And you make it look and sound like Daddy Dearest was so much worse off than the Mommy Dearest we were introduced to in that grisly series! Oh no Babe, please make it stop! 😣😭

            You rock tons Babe…..for always! 😇❤
            Mwah! 😗👄😂

            Like

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