Via Con Dios!

point-break-poster

Warning: This post contains material about sex and substance abuse. Proceed with caution if that kind of thing is hard for you to read about and be warned in advance if you’re younger than 18.  

If you’ve ever seen the movie Point Break, you’ll understand the title of this post. You’ll also understand when I say that I met and started dating some total surfer BRO from Hawaii who lived and spoke and acted just like one of those Point Break surfer dudes.

This is the hardest one to write about because this one involves the loss of my virginity. I won’t make it a long story, but I ended up losing my virginity to Point Break guy, a month before my 21st birthday, in his college apartment, while we were both out of our minds high and drunk. I woke up the next morning in bed beside him and cried. I just looked at him and thought, “I wasted my first time on him?” and I wept uncontrollably.

All those years of waiting and hoping had been completely ruined in a moment of absolute stupidity. And it sucked. But, because our mind likes to mess with us, after that encounter, I suddenly thought I was in love with him.

Because that’s what sex does to your brain. It makes you feel these emotions of love.

There is a literal chemical called oxytocin, and sex causes the increased production of this chemical. Some people call it the “love hormone”. During sexual climax (I know, this is some Dr. James Dobson, forbidden sex chapter information, sorry) oxytocin is released from the brain, it surges and is accompanied by the release of endorphins. The brain also releases oxytocin into the bloodstream during physical contact such as stroking and hugging. When this happens, blood pressure lowers and you feel calm, safe and trusting.

Notice the key word here: feel. Feeling something does not mean that you actually are something. You suddenly feel calm, safe and trusting. Which, is what sex was created to make you feel. But it wasn’t created to make you feel calm, safe and trusting in a college apartment with a drunken loser who you aren’t, nor will you ever be, married to. It wasn’t created to make you feel safe, calm and trusting when you absolutely should NOT be those things in that moment.

I felt like I was suddenly in love with this man (sorry, this boy) for maybe a year or more, on and off, long distance, while he secretly had a girlfriend and was sleeping with countless other girls on the side. I found all this out too late, when I had already been steeped fully in his false “love” and adoration. Some random girl Facebooked me, saying that she slept with him a year or so ago and got pregnant. She claims that he forced her to get an abortion and then dropped her like an old hat. I don’t know to this day if this information is totally true, but why in the world would a random stranger lie to me? Because she was jealous? Because she was warning me? Knowing his pattern, I believe it was the latter. To this woman I say, thank you and I am so sorry I ever doubted you. I realize some women can be nasty when they’re jealous, but I also realize that some women are truly hoping to save fellow women from the same pain they’ve experienced.

Throughout all of this madness, I called my friend Pharrell (from the post a couple weeks back….remember him?). I don’t know why, but I was driving down the 405 freeway, (this was back before it was illegal to talk on your cell phone in the car) and I remember the conversation to this day.

Me: Hey.

Pharrell: Hey Tiger! How’ve you been?

Me: Well, it’s been crazy. I lost my virginity to some idiot who I dumped because he was cheating on me the whole time.

Pharrell: Wow. I can’t believe it.

Me: I know. Whatever, his loss.

Pharrell: No, I can’t believe you.

Me: What?

Pharrell: When I met you, you were this innocent, Bible reading Christian virgin and now you’re smoking pot, partying all the time, treating sex like it’s no big deal… what has happened to you? This isn’t you. This isn’t the real Danielle.

Me: (I am so embarrassed. My face is burning red hot with anger. But he was right. It was true. This wasn’t the best me. But all I could say was:)

“Well, we all change.”

Pharrell: I guess so. Listen, I gotta go. Take care, Tiger. Be safe.

Me: Fine. Bye.

I hung up the phone. I think I hurt him. I don’t know why I told him. But of course that would upset him. Of course that was a stupid thing to tell him. Why was I so stupid to think we had “that kind” of friendship where we could share these types of things? He probably still had feelings for me, or at least cared enough for me as a person to be heartbroken at the person I had morphed into. He was older, wiser, had been through it himself, had seen girls like me dive head first into a downward spiral. What he liked about me in the first place was that I was different. He told me that I wasn’t like many of the other girls he had encountered in LA. I didn’t care only about my looks, I had faith and morals and desired to stay a virgin until I was married.

I want to highlight the fact that I am using the word “was”. I was that type of girl. Now, I had become another type. And the moment I realized that, my heart broke a little too.

I want to be clear here:

I’m not sitting here saying that all those girls out there sleeping around and partying are “sluts”. I hate that word so much. Especially when girls use it to refer to each other. I truly believe, from the bottom of my heart, that every woman who seeks satisfaction from that lifestyle is hurting and they don’t even realize it.

This isn’t to categorize women into two different groups: pure and tainted. The reason my heart broke when I realized who I had become, is because I realized that I was suddenly very alone and hurting.

I had experienced so much pain and loss and I had merely shoved it to the side and ignored it. My heart didn’t break because I suddenly felt labeled as “a woman of the world”……..

My heart broke because I suddenly realized how miserable I was.

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s