Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Sex Doesn't Equal Love

This is my first time posting on Terry’s blog and I’m so glad that I get the chance to speak on behalf of the ladies for a minute. Guys, don’t think I haven’t scoped you out long enough to know what you do, like, dislike and screw up!

The title of this blog entry was 'Dick Doesn't Equal Love'. I decided to change it. I don’t know why, but a feeling in my gut told me that it wasn’t the best way to speak on the subject. Not only that, but I thought that approach was too aggressive and I don’t want to come at subjects like my cousin. To every up, there must be a down. To every light, there is a dark. There’s a Yin there is Yang.

I’ll start by opening up the most I ever have on one of these blogs:

When I was 16 years old I was practically rapped by a man. He was a boy, actually. There is no soft way to put that. It hurts me when men are so lustful for sex that all reason vanishes and a woman’s accountability flies away in the wind.

When I told my mother about what happened I was punished. I believe she told me, "If you weren’t being a fast ass heifer, it wouldn’t have happened." I cried all through my punishment. It was the worst I could ever feel.

Well, let me clear something up: I was not physically rapped, I was emotionally rapped. For months I was lead to believe that the love I expected from this boy would come once I let him inside of me. I stupidly made myself believe such a gullible and naive thought. To this day I slightly don’t understand that logic, but I can relate to it. Most women still do those things. The moment they have sex with a man they feel more affection. It’s true that a woman can date a man who is balding, fat and butt-ugly, as long as he makes us laugh or has a wonderful personality, we are fine. Sad to say, it’s not like that for men. Sex is a temporary temptation that evaporates for the woman he screwed right after he lets the sperm cells go.

A week and a half later, when I found out I was pregnant, I cried even more. I cried because I was happy to be having his baby. Keep in mind, he stopped calling me or talking to me after we had sex. I thought that the baby would keep him in my life ( a stupid reason to want to have a child). When I finally told my mother about the pregnancy she was very disappointed in me. She left the choice of abortion up to me.

When I finally got in touch with they guy who’d filled me with a soon-to-be bundle of joy, he almost flipped when I told him of my pregnancy. He immediately told me that I had to get an abortion. I wasn’t having that. There was no way that I’d give up my child. But then he did it. You know what... He started pretending to care. He would sit with me for the next week, for hours at a time, letting me know how he wanted to be in my life and how he thought it would be best to have the abortion and try to parent a child once we were a little older and more prepared. Of course, he didn’t have the money for the abortion and I had to work extra hours at work (Taco Bell) to gather up the funds.

I was still on top of the world. I was going to have a second chance at love with my boyfriend. What more could I ask for?

When I arrived at the abortion clinic I anxiously awaited his arrival. Then it hit me: he had to go to work today and would be about a half hour late. Though I wanted him to be there with me, I decided to start the process and get it over with (I was getting cold feet).

I went in and was told to take some type of pill... and the rest is a blur, yet I slightly remember it all. The sick feeling I had from the operation... I cried when I waited on one of the beds for two hours for him to show up. He never did. When I felt like I was composed enough, I climbed out of bed and took the bus home.

I felt stupid and low. I’d lied about my age, killed my unborn child for a man and was still left without a man. There was no need for me to call him and verify that he was gone, I knew it. But me being a woman, I had to inquire. I had to know, if not for my child’s life, for my future- if he used that "future" stuff with me just to persuade me to get an abortion.

I called him numerous times. When it was time to go back to school, I heard that he and his family moved to Florida and I never heard from him again. Even now when I type this, it hurts. I still get the thumps in my throat and remember the sickness I felt on that day.

The whole point of me sharing this is to let women (and some men) know that love is not always obtained through sex. Sex is a tool in helping to show that love, but the love must already be there. If I would have known then what I know now (cliche) I could have saved my babies life and my own as well. This is just a blog entry for you all to think about your actions, wants and needs.

Asia Wright


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