Bridget

It was the first time I felt like it was equal.

Introduction

I think I was around six — it was around the same time that my parents split up — when I realized that a lot of people were really interested in being around my dad. It’s a mixed feeling. Part of it is exciting, that people revere you and want to give you attention. But then there’s the other side of it, that there’s a spotlight shone on you and you have no private life.

I was very much an athlete. I played every sport I could. I started riding horses when I was six and I’ve been an avid horsewoman ever since. Wasn’t a great student. I’m very much a tomboy. I grew up with an older brother and it was important to me to be strong and that I could keep up and do what he and his friends did, that I could be one of the guys. And I was around a lot of older girls too. I was the youngest of the horse riding group, with girls three to maybe six years older than me. At 13, even though I was still a tomboy, I started becoming a young lady and wanting to explore what that was all about.

I remember parts of my childhood being very happy, but I also remember having emotional troubles and feeling sad and just, not harmonious. There was a lot of discord in our home and then my parents officially split up. I was very torn as to my allegiance to which parent and if I should be okay with what was happening.

My mom always took us on trips. She felt that traveling and seeing other cultures and other things was really important and she also thought it was a good opportunity for us to all spend time together as a family, my mom and step-dad with my brother and me.

We went all over Europe several times. One summer, we did an Asian trip, to Thailand, Indonesia and Japan. We traveled through Mexico and went to New York quite a bit. And my brother and I also traveled with my dad, not to necessarily exotic places, but mostly in the United States. We traveled a lot to see him. Sometimes we went on his company’s private jet.

The first time I smoked pot, I was eleven. I was kind-of scared of it at first, but when I did it, I thought it was a lot of fun. By the time I was twelve, I was actively drinking on the weekends with girlfriends, who again were older, usually 13, 14, or 15 years old. And then when I was 13, I took mushrooms for the first time, which was, “Wow!” And then it progressed from there. I got into heavier drugs, started to do cocaine, ecstasy, acid. Did a lot of drugs in high school. I was partying a lot, barely graduated.

In high school, I was a party girl. I was known around town as a party girl. “You want to have a good time, go hang out with her. You’ll probably be hung-over the next day and God knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into, but you’ll have a good time.” That was my reputation. I drove a sports car. I drove really fast. I was a wild child.

My mom tried to put me in therapy when I was 13. I was hurting. I had issues around my parents not being together and my step dad and whatnot. But I did not want to go into counseling, and I felt like I was being forced. So I rebelled against it. I think I went to one or two sessions and I just sat there and stared at the guy and I wouldn’t talk to him.

It took until I was 20 before I was willing to take a hard look at what I was doing. I was very alone. I had a boyfriend who was a very bad alcoholic and a drug addict and beat me up several times. So, at that point, it was like, “I’m either going to change my life or I’m going to die.” That’s when I checked into rehab and chose to go down a different path. Instead of just driving myself into the ground, I could see that maybe I had something interesting to do with my life.

And today, I’m happy. I have a beautiful home and a beautiful husband and lovely critters around me and I have a handful of great friends and I live a pretty quiet life. In a way, I feel like a late bloomer, like some of my greatest accomplishments and things that I’m proud of are yet to come.

Childhood sexuality

I knew about the anatomy. My brother and I took baths together. There was nothing sexual about it but I knew he had a penis and I had something else and that somehow those two things were meant to go together at some point.

I never thought of this as sexual but I remember when I was pretty young, I used to put my hand between my legs and rock, and that felt good. I was pressing on a pressure point down there and it was kind-of placating. It was a way of soothing myself when I was in pain or sad or upset.

My first sexual memory was maybe around six or seven. I think I was in first grade or kindergarten or something and I remember a boy touching me in some way. Not on the genitals, but some sort of interaction with a boy that felt good. And I remember, I was like, “Ooh.”

I think the reason that I felt it was kind-of sexual, was because he was showing me attention in a way that was very specific towards me. It wasn’t just, “Oh, we’re all playing.” It was very directed at me. And that was a turn-on.

At around the same age, there was this box on the TV and you could push these buttons late at night to get porn to come on, like T&A, soft porn. My brother and I would watch that when our mom and the nanny were asleep. And I remember thinking, “Oh, so that’s what this is all about.”

In first and second grade, maybe seven or eight years old, we were going behind the gym and we would kiss and touch each other and hug and snuggle. I remember specifically being attracted to a boy in, I think, second grade. And I would say, “Oh, he’s my boyfriend.” I liked the way he looked. I liked his physical presence, his energy and everything about him, and he liked me.

I wasn’t raised with any religious confines or any “Stay away from this.” We were allowed to do whatever we wanted, pretty much. I was very up for experimentation by second grade, and that meant kissing and touching. There was obviously no penetration but I remember this boy touching my underwear and touching my panties. I think I was more apprehensive to touch him but more accepting of letting him touch me.

That was all through pants and stuff. It was in about third grade that I actually was partially naked and exposed with another child. There was a kid that I played with and we liked each other. And his brother and his friends, who were a few years older, like twelve or 13, would give us candy if we would do stuff. Like, “Go in the closet and touch each other for one minute and we’ll give you jelly beans,” or something. So they were kind-of instigating.

It was still kissing and touching, but also, this was the first time that I actually touched his penis. We were fumbling around in a dark closet, but I remember, I could feel he was hard. And he was my age, like eight or nine years old. And at one point, after several times of doing this, I think he ejaculated. I was giggling and there was something wet and I said, “What’s that?” He was kind-of embarrassed because I don’t think he knew what happened and it was all very odd.

And I remember being aroused by it too. It felt good and it felt fun and playful. It was also a bit of an escape from my being angry or sad or hurt or whatever. I didn’t feel those other feelings while I was “messing around.”

There was never a thought that we were doing anything bad. We were playing but it was of a sexual nature. I didn’t feel bad or ashamed or guilty but there was a sense — I think this came from his brother — that we shouldn’t let their mother catch us, that we shouldn’t let adults know what we were doing. That if a parent or somebody should come in, we should try to act as if this wasn’t happening.

After about a year, when I was nine, was the first time sex turned dirty. This older brother of the boy I liked was now trying to touch me and do the same things as his younger brother. At first it kind-of felt good when he was just rubbing my back and touching me when we were all watching movies late at night. But then we’d be alone for a minute and he would immediately go under my dress and try to finger me.

I remember feeling torn. It felt good to be touched and have the attention, but he was both aggressive and secretive about it. He obviously wanted something and he was determined to get it, and he told me not to tell his brother. I could see that he really wanted to fondle me, and I thought, “Uh-oh.” And I also thought, “Well, I don’t want him to be mad at me. Maybe I should let him do what he wants.”

It was the first time I sexually felt like there was something wrong, like there was something bad about it. The stuff I had done with his brother in the closet just seemed all fun and games and being silly and giggling, even though it was sexual and arousing. but this boy doing it felt dirty. It became serious instead of fun because somebody was trying to do something to me instead of just playing, and he wanted to keep it a secret, not just from adults, but from my own friends. It was the first time I felt shame around sex.

I thought I could just tell him to stop, but he wouldn’t. If I wanted to hang out with this group of friends, I had to subject myself to the fondlings of this boy. So I stopped hanging out with them.

That was a lot for me to take on as a nine-year-old. I think I handled it pretty well and it didn’t go on and he never accomplished his goal but I was very torn about the situation. It wore upon me. I wish I had not had to deal with that at that age.

Moving on from that difficult experience …

When I was probably around ten or eleven. I found my mom’s massager under her bed — and I took it. I started masturbating — a lot. I just thought, “I bet it would feel really good if I put this between my legs.” And, sure enough, it did. Then I was off and running. I got so much pleasure out of playing with this toy, like, “Yee ha!” I never wanted to leave my room.

And like I said earlier, I just wanted to feel good. It took my mind off the pain, the anger, or the sadness and replaced it with something that physically felt good. I could say to myself, “Oh, well, I don’t feel good. And now I know what to do. I can play with this toy.” It was like doing drugs or drinking. It took me out of whatever negative feelings or emotions I may have had.

I had a couple of experiences where I had a so-called boyfriend or something in fifth or sixth grade but I didn’t have the sexual experiences that I had in third grade again until I got closer to eighth. So there was a span of years there where there wasn’t a lot of activity.

Teenage relationships

The summer before eighth grade, when I was 13, I met a boy who was 17, a junior in high school. He really liked me. And he had a car and he would come and pick me up and we would go out and we would drink and party. We made out quite a bit and I got really close to having sex with him. But something inside of me said, “You’re too young.” I remember thinking, “I haven’t even had my period. I was scared. And he wanted to have sex. He broke up with me because I wouldn’t and I was devastated.

The next month, I got my period. Then, in eighth grade, I had a little boyfriend but he was my age and I think we made out and kissed and maybe groped each other. It was just, kind-of, grammar school petting, adolescent parties and whatnot.

Then I went into high school. I had a huge crush on this guy, Tony, who was 19 and he was kind-of freaked out to date me because I was so young. He wanted to get serious. He wanted to have sex and I was 14 and not quite there yet. But we dated and there was a lot of making out and whatnot. And one night, my mom and step dad were asleep and I brought him up to my bedroom. I don’t know why, but I said, “I want to have sex. I’m ready.” So my first sexual intercourse was in my bed.

So we had sex and he was really concerned that it was going to hurt and I was going to bleed and nothing like that happened at all. It didn’t hurt at all and I didn’t feel very much. It was very awkward and fumbling and I think I just laid there.

I kept seeing him and we were dating for maybe four or five months. And then I remember spending my birthday with him. He was all excited because he thought I was turning 16 and I said, “No, I’m 15.” I remember the look on his face. He was like, “What!?”

He ended up leaving town and going off somewhere. I was quite devastated. I really liked this guy, but I didn’t really enjoy sex very much with him. I don’t know if it was him or me or his penis or what it was. I remember, I really wanted it to be awesome, like you hear it’s supposed to be. But it wasn’t and I thought to myself, “This is way overrated.”

And then, this guy that I had known, Dave, who was 27, took a liking to me and started hitting on me at a party one night. I liked him and he became my first serious boyfriend that I really fell in love with and cared for on a deeper level. It was not just an infatuation or a girlish crush, but I actually had something very meaningful with him. He was mature and owned his own house and traveled and skied and I remember it was the first time that I felt like I was having a somewhat mature relationship where it was equal.

He was also the first man that I had an orgasm with. Going from Tony to Dave was like night and day. I went from thinking sex was overrated and not very fun to loving being with him almost every evening. He was the first sexual partner that I had real pleasure with. Like, real pleasure, where I thought, “Okay, now I get what everyone’s talking about.” I would sneak out and climb my fence and he’d pick me up at the top of the driveway. I would spend the night with him and then we’d wake up at five in the morning and he would drive me home and I’d sneak back into my house. This went on for a year and my mom never caught me.

He got a lot of flak from people for dating me. “Eww! You’re dating a 15-year-old girl. That’s weird. It’s not right. What are you doing? Why are you with this girl?” But his close friends got to know me and it changed to, “Oh, we get it. She’s mature. She’s great and we love her and she’s so cool, so we don’t care how old she is. You guys are great together. We can tell you really care for each other.” And then that stigma went away because we proved to people in that year that we were together that we actually had a very compatible, wonderful relationship.

Dave was stable, cool, didn’t party too much, liked to stay at home and watch movies and was just a good guy. He was kind-of reserved and mellow. While I loved him very much, I was still in high school and there were other boys that were interested in me and, you know, I liked to party a lot. After a year of just being someone’s girlfriend, watching movies, and not doing a lot, I was feeling like I was missing out on a lot of fun. Fun with people my own age or fun with people who wanted to party. I wanted to live a more exciting life.

So that’s when I took on other lovers. I had a wild kid that was , a year or two older than me in high school and we were friends with benefits. We’d have the same periods off school and we would go and have sex in the middle of the day at my house. It was fun. We just had a great time. I know I was cheating on this other guy that I loved but I justified it in my mind. “Well, I’m young. I don’t want to be tied down.”

I’m not sure what Dave thought was going to happen. I think he was hoping we were going to have a long-term relationship. I didn’t see it like that, even though I cared for him very much. I still was very aware of the fact that I was a young girl in high school that had a lot of things I wanted to do. I didn’t want to just be with one guy for my whole time in high school.

So then I was going behind his back and sleeping around with this wild guy at school and other boys. And things started to diminish with Dave. I then was introduced to this guy, who was 37, named Ryland. I was now 16, and Ryland was very charming, very cool, but there was a darkness to him as well. He liked to do a lot of cocaine. He liked to screw around with women a lot. He was known as a playboy. He was known to have multiple partners. I found him very alluring and he made it very known that he liked me. And he was trying to take me away from Dave and whatever else I was doing. I could tell he was pursuing me.

When that was obvious, I broke up with Dave and he was really devastated.

So I started dating this guy, Ryland. And again, he had a house and a nice car and he had his own business and he was a man! He was a full-blown man and wanted to spend weekends in the city and take me to nice dinners. I got really swept up by it. Plus, he played in perfectly to my partying. I mean, he liked to party a lot more seriously than Dave ever did. There were aspects of the relationship that weren’t great but we had a great time together. We did a lot of exciting things together.

My dad wasn’t around much but in this small town, he started to get wind of what I was doing. “You know, your daughter is running around with this playboy guy who does drugs and womanizes and she’s only 16.” So he sat me down and said he could have him put in jail. My mom was concerned as well but she had met him and she liked him and we had him over at the house quite a bit. So she said, “Okay, I don’t want you to spend the night, but you can go to his house and spend time with him but you have to be home …” She knew I was having sex. I was already on birth control pills so she didn’t have an issue with that.

Obviously, my dad didn’t follow through on his threat. If he had, I would have been horrified because I chose to be with this person and he chose to be with me. I felt, from where I was, as a person that traveled around the world and had seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, been exposed to a lot of things, that I was completely capable of making the decision to spend time with whatever age man I wanted to. I couldn’t believe that it would even be illegal. I felt, “How dare anyone tell me that I can’t be with him or, let alone, throw him in jail!”

So we continued on, from 16 to 18. I think I remember celebrating his 39th or 40th birthday with him. And that was right before we broke up.

In the very beginning, I was very honest with him. I said, “Look, when I turn 18 and I’m out of high school, I’m outta here. So unless you want to live with me somewhere else, …” So he knew I wasn’t going to stay there for him. Because I was concerned. I cared for him a lot and I was telling him I loved him and I didn’t at that time think I wanted to break up with him. I was saying, “How are we going to make this work now that we’re getting in this serious relationship?” I wanted to know what our future was going to look like. And he said, “Well, why don’t we just deal with that when the time comes?” You know, “We’ll work it out.”

And the way we worked it out was that we both cheated on each other the whole time. Because I was still carrying on with my high school guy and a couple of other guys. So when I found out that he had been cheating on me, I was upset, but I wasn’t that upset because I knew I was no angel either. So after I found out that he had been with other women while we were dating, I then told him that I had been with other guys. And that was pretty much the beginning of the end. Because it was obvious that we were both not being honest with each other.

We had a big party for him. And then that summer is when I was getting out of high school and was planning on leaving town. So it kind-of ran its course.

Looking back

I feel like I was exposed to sexual things at a fairly young age and I feel that some of that was kind of child’s play and I also feel some of it was negative. I feel like maybe if I hadn’t been exposed to sexual things at such an early age that maybe I would have held onto my innocence a little more. Because I do believe that there is a point, and I think it’s different for everybody, where you’re not really capable of processing what’s going on. And I feel like I had things that happened to me at a young age that maybe should have come later.

Specifically, the older boys egging on my little friend and me in the closet probably accelerated things more than necessary. And then, my friend’s brother putting his hand up my dress, that I could definitely have lived without until I was ready for it.

As far as my actual intercourse experiences and dating men who were older than me when I was not of a legal age those, to me, have been positive experiences. I don’t regret those. I don’t look back on them with any sort of negativity. I mean, I really cared for those men and I genuinely think they cared for me. I’m still friends with all of them.

I didn’t feel like I was damaged or that I had something bad happen to me. I can’t say, honestly, I don’t know, but I don’t feel that way. I don’t feel like it had an adverse effect on my life. I willingly chose, from the age of 14 on, to participate in those interactions with those men and spend time with them. I think it was great. I’m glad they didn’t listen to other people and decided to spend that time with me and look beyond my age.

Ryland was no angel and I don’t want to say that everything he did was okay, but I don’t think that by dating me, he was doing anything wrong. I don’t.

I know I wasn’t a mature adult necessarily, and my mind was clouded a lot with the partying, but I still think I was capable of making my own decisions.

I’ve heard people say, “They took advantage of you,” or “You were too young,” and “That’s not right.” I’ve heard all the variations of that. But I don’t believe any of it. It’s typical, small-minded, society bullshit. And it bothers me. It makes me sad that they diminish something that was actually really nice by saying, “That’s wrong,” or “That’s disgusting that you would go out with such a young girl,” and “What were you thinking?” I want to say to them, “You don’t even know. You weren’t there. You have no idea.” Everyone who was there, that was part of it, and around us as a couple, nobody ever said that once they got to know me. It’s only the people that don’t know, that just make assumptions like that.