My first time (pt 1)

I didn’t feel ready for my first time. But I felt
Like I had to.
Like I was weird for waiting.
Like something was wrong with me.

I was 24.
He was someone I’d been seeing for a while.
He didn’t know I’d never done it before;
Embarrassed, I didn’t tell him.

I just drank,
A lot.
Did things.

And repeated the pattern for the eight months we dated.

Around that time,
40-year-old vrgn had just come out.
I remember thinking to myself that if I hesitated any longer,
I’d be like that:
A punchline, a joke.

So I did what I thought I had to do.

I wish I could look back now,
And tell younger Danae,
That she could wait.

She could wait weeks or months or years more,
And that it would be ok.

She could believe in feminism, in freedom of choice, in women saying yes,
And choose in the same breath to say no.

She could give herself time,
Until she felt so much more than pressure.
Until she actually felt




Until she felt arms that seemed like home.


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