I Refuse to be a Reject, because...

...of sex. I don't think there's a person who I know at this moment in my life who can fully comprehend and completely understand my feelings and my opinions concerning sex. This isn't "Gossip Girl" and this sure as hell isn't "Twilight." I will not, do not drop my drawers and open my legs to anybody and not even for Right Knight or whoever the nameless, faceless lover I have in the future. I do not operate like a thoughtless, automated sex machine without protection.

Lots of it.

Perhaps I am overprotected, but I would rather be "safe than sorry." And I'm not just talking about unwanted pregnancy or genital herpes or disastrous diseases like AIDS, I'm talking about matters of the heart.

Fuck the cliche, I am being perfectly serious. Pun intended.

---

I am uncomfortable with sex.

I am willing to talk about it far more than I was when I was in high school or when I was in middle school, but I still am resistant to talking about it on certain levels or in specific situations. I do not want to hear about people I know having sex and what exactly they do with their partners, what positions and what not. Especially my close friends.

Being intimate is something that is glorified in our culture and sold easily, marketed by media and the nation is immune to sexualized images, etc.

Sad is it not?

I do not want to hear about my friends sexual experiences. If I want to know I will ask you. I will ask you if I want to know.

I want you tell me, because you trust me, because you want me to know.

But.

I will ask you if I want to know. I am uncomfortable and I do not need to ask for your forgiveness, because I am uncomfortable. Should I apologize for being who I am? Am I hurting you, because I am uncomfortable?

Do you understand where I am coming from?

---

I do not want to hear about my friends and their sexual conquests.
I am uncomfortable about hearing about other peoples' sexual experiences.
It makes me uncomfortable.

People are sexual beings, we become sexual beings.
We cannot fight biology and supposedly natural urges.
People relieve themselves, release themselves.

Animals are without shame and I suppose that is what separates people from animals.
We are with shame.

Yes, I am capable of being as sexual as anyone else, but I choose not to.
It is not a matter of humility, dignity or even shame.

I choose not be sexual.
I did not choose fear.
I am fear.

I am pride and I am power.
I have pride and I have power.

I have pride and I have power as much as I did not choose fear.

Yes, I am capable of my decision.
Yes I am understand my decision.
My decision not to be a sexual being.

I am capable.

But I decided not to be.
I decided not to be a sexual being.
I understand that I am not a sexual being.

Because I decided not to be.

---

I don't deserve to be called a prude.
I am willing to talk about sex. I am willing to state my opinions.
These are my opinions.
Let me share with you what I think about sex.

Listen carefully:

Sex. Two creatures. Two people. Void of sex. Void of gender. Two entities. Two beings.

Now that we got that clear:

Naked. No clothes. Just penetrative parts. Just openings to receive.

No metaphors or similes. That's not very clever, this isn't raunchy.

Continue:

Caressing. Groping. Grunting. Sighing. Hugging. Holding. Moving. Pulsing.

Keep going:

Faster. Harder. Stronger.

I happen to like that song. Ironic no? Why? Are you horny?

Don't stop:

Grinding. Groaning. Moaning. Melting.

Coming.

Going. Gone.

Pull. Out. Over.

---

Yes, sex is a part of life, but it is not a part of MY life. Have you considered that?

Yes it is not a part of your life or maybe his life or her life, whoever still freely views sex and speaks of it, but sex is not a part of my life. I do not preoccupy my time thinking about sex or exploring it.

Sex is not necessarily love. Love is not necessarily sex. Vulgar is not necessarily sex. Sex is not necessarily vulgar. See how it works? I do.

Relationships are not necessarily sex. Sex are not necessarily relationships. You get the gist? I do.

"You say you are willing to talk about sex. But you don't want to hear about it? You're a fucking hypocrite."

No. I am not.

I am not a hypocrite. I am willing to talk about sex. I do not want to have sex. See the difference?

I am not a hypocrite. I do not want to hear about sexual experiences between two intimate partners, because I believe sex should between those who do it, who did it--those who were engaged. I was not there. I will not be there. I did not miss it. I do not want to hear about it. As much as you trust me, as much as you love me, as much as you want me to know.

I do not want to know. I am not sorry. Understand me.

"Don't get me I wrong I love you

When we are older you'll understand
What I meant when I said, 'No'
I don't think life is quite that simple

Wish I could prove I love you
But does that mean I have to walk on water?

Maybe when we're older
You'll understand
It's enough when I say, 'so'
Maybe some things are that simple

So simple and clean..."

Do you understand me? So simple and clean?

My mind is not simple
My mind is not clean
But I am simple
And I am clean

That is hypocrisy.

Your mind is not simple
Your mind is not clean
But you are not simple
But you are not clean

That is hypocrisy.

Perhaps.

Or is it is just convention.
Or life.

"It's hard to let it go

Hold me

Whatever lies beyond this morning
Is a little later on

Regardless of warning
The future doesn't scare me
At all

Nothing's like before."

("Simple and Clean" preformed by Utada Hikaru)
---

Sex is a part of life like life is a part of death and death is a part of life. Without sex there is no life.

"I thought you did birth?"
"Sometimes birth and death go together."
("Eastern Promises")

I understand this, as much as I do not wish to partake, to speak or to witness sex. In some countries people are not at all ashamed of nakedness or the action itself. They do not hide anything. It is public, it is open. In other countries not in the least. Or some countries suppress their urges. Both are not right. Both are not wrong. I don't think we can judge and certainly countries cannot be used to explain me.

I am not a country.

What I'm trying to say is, that when I get nervous and edgy when my friends are talking about sex and experiences, some try to assuage these feelings, these fears by saying, "It's normal. It's natural." True. But it doesn't make me nervous.

If I was sexually active then I would not have these feelings, these reservations. But it's not so much just an opposition or a resistance to sex. It's more, but how can I explain myself if nobody is willing to listen, to understand?

Said: I will be alone for a long time, because I even detest the idea of the opposite sex staring my body.

Yes I do not like that idea when I know I only provoke interest in genitals entering my body to satisfy their needs. Satisfy needs. I don't want to be used or abused, it already hurts enough from all those past emotional scars.

"i've been used and abused"

Can you imagine the pain, the pain of the physical scars?

Why would you wish that upon me?

Upon anyone? Upon yourself?

If you are hurting emotionally, do not welcome a physical pain.

I am not in existence merely to be the vessel in which a man can satisfy his needs by pleasuring his hose inside a hole, which is my hole. Perhaps I was made with the intention to reproduce, but I was granted the capability to choose when I will and who I will with.

I am not a slave to biology or misogyny.

"it hurt even more when i told him
and he told me that he understood
that he knew how it felt
but then he did it again
to me
without me
left me
hurt me
me"

I hate that feeling.

That feeling of a heterosexual man staring at my heterosexual body. It doesn't matter if there's a soul or personality or heart in that body, as long its female body that attracts his heterosexual body and arouses it. I hate that feeling. Some girls enjoy it. They enjoy boys touching them and enjoy teasing them. An illusion of control. Control of illusion. One girl told me she loved boys touching her body and she put on weight to keep her breasts desirable double D's. One girl loved being told her face was invisible, because her breasts were "in the way." "That's the way. Uh huh huh. I like it. Uh huh huh." (KC and the Sunshine Band)

I can't understand that. It frightens me like the idea of aliens and the global warming and the fact our seas are emptied of fish and that sharks, polar bears will become figments of our imagination in these next years. It frightens me, because I cannot control the eyes of men.

WAIT....WAIT...WAIT

You know I think.

I think I should tell you a story.

Because then maybe it would be easier to explain if you knew some things.

I warn you they do not have happy endings. But you should know.

Know some things.

About me.

---

When I was a just a girl, I broke up with a boy and severed our broken friendship, because it was dying, but its death was contributed over the insensitivity and selfishness corrupting our pathetic bond. He wanted to touch me. He touched me. He wrapped his slender arms around my body, caressed my "best feature" hands and rubbed his fingers over my scalp through my "best feature" hair.

I was terrified.

He was moving too fast.

I was scared.

Now that I a woman, I realize that perhaps cultural differences kept us apart and keep us apart. I realize that ethnicity, a difference that should not divide or unite us due to fetishisms or exoticism, but that ethnicity is a factor that influences courtship, that promotes differences in ways that sex and love, marriage and child rearing are practiced.


It hurt me when my best male friend asked me to practice kissing with him. I did not want to be used. It shocked me, but hurt me when it was discovered that he already had a girlfriend he wanted to practice for. I was just the dummy. It took time and in time I forgave him, because he is a precious person, but the wound is tender.


I told a boy I felt I could identify with, some of my darkest secrets that have prevented from seeking relationships with men and convince me from doing so as well reinforce my long, unwavering belief never to have sex.


I went to a club and my arms were seized from my side and forced above my head, while a stranger's pelvis gyrated his parts against my hindquarters, his hardness threatened to penetrate the safety I called my jeans and his friction threatened whatever fabric boundary that kept him from entering me. He forced me in directions and held onto me until he came and finished whatever pleasure he elicited from my body. I just wanted to feel beautiful. I left feeling like an unpaid whore.

Cheap. Dirty. Destroyed.

A part of me died and although I am without religion, I know that part of me was not saved by God and did not go onto Heaven.

Is this what girls want?

Their bodies invaded? Used? Taken advantage of?

We do not have real agency. In the end, we are the ones with the burden to bear. It's not my decree or belief, it is what is intended, because our sex, our gender and anatomical differences. It is nature.

Why do girls want this?

I don't understand.


I was told by a friend that the boy was right and I was wrong. She let me down three times. Three times. Three strikes and you're out. I was so disappointed in her. She let me down. I tried my best to the best friend she needed. I listened and gave my advice. She did not give me what I needed those three times. She let me down.

I was told by a friend that my guyfriend had a picture of a girl on his cellphone the evening he wanted to make out. She stood by me and did everything in her power to enable me to make amends. She helped me. She did allow me to let the wounds fester and healed them.

I was told by a friend that when you go to clubs, this is what happens and there are ways to deal with guys. I don't want it happen. I want to go to clubs, but I don't go to clubs to be sodomized. I don't go to clubs so I can be a personal device in the aid of masturbation. There aren't faces in clubs, just bodies. Bodies. Body. Body Parts. Parts. Penis. I went to dance. I went to dance with friends. I will not let men take me and do with me what they will. They will not intimidate me. They will not make me feel dirty. I am a agent. I will give myself agency.

---

I watch people. I heard people. I see people. I see how sex operates in their lives. I see how it is absent in mine.

Sex lies. Sex cheats. Sex desecreates. Sex destroys. Sex is shared. Three ways. Two ways. Gang ways. Rape ways. Sex is an instrument. Sex is not forgiving and the consequences are steep. Not just disease. Not just violation. Not just nightmares and night terrors. Not just unwanted pregnancy. Botched abortions. You lose yourself. Your lose a friend. A partner. Lovers. Sex defines. Sex names. Sex calls. Sex travels. Sex loses. Sex wins. Finders keepers. Losers weepers.

I have no sympathy for stupidity. Pure stupidity.

The consequences are inevitable. The consequences are outlined in our bodies and there are no secrets in basic bodies and operations. Somebody gives and somebody takes, somebody receives.

Sperm is released into the vagina through the penis and often a woman will become impregnated which results in the development of a child in her womb. With or without marriage. A condom is 99% effective. There is that 1%.

People will do everything and anything to avoid pregnancy. They just haven't considered: don't do it. Insatiable beings. Greedy beings.

Why sex? I don't understand. The appeal is pleasure. The objective is pleasure. But for who? I see more pleasures for men. Sex prefers men. Just an observation. Don't mind me. Women like sex. Yes. Women want sex. Find sex. Need sex. Just as badly. But who loses? But who wins? Men don't get pregnant. Women take the hardest blow. We fall harder. Don't we? Am I wrong?

Men don't get pregnant. Men are mobile. Women have choices. But more obstacles. Solutions, but consequences. More consequences. Abortion. Pills. Whoops. Abortion. Pills. Again. Oh well.

Both we are both as capable of getting disease as we are of spreading it.

We can both ruin each other's lives.

People cry. People die. I heard gossip and rumors. I shudder to think "if it were me." I want safety and protection as much as I want it for my friends. I fear for them. I do not want them become gossip, rumors or headlines. I want them safe. I want them sound.

Sex. Stay away. Far away.

It scares me. It enrages me.

---

I don't want sex.

I want physical intimacy. I want intimacy. Sex seems so vulgar and void of emotion. I want to be physically intimate for a reason. And more than just two bodies and genitals that fit together like puzzle pieces and the burden of biology saying, "Go go go."

I want love. Love is not sex. Sex is not love. You can have sex without love. And regardless of media and movies, you can have love without sex.

I am looking for a love that is not based in the bedroom. I am looking for a man who will fall in love with me, without my body. Imagine that. Imagine a man or a woman, who will fall in love with you, even if you had no body, no physically tangible object in which you inhabit. But rather the soul that is a fleeting, formless entity. Imagine that.

That is what I am searching for. Perhaps if I was covered in a shroud and all he had were my eyes, my voice and my words. If I gave him everything and showed me everything, but my naked body, but he still loved me without touch, without sex.

I am looking for a love with a man so that when I expose myself to him and should I become comfortable with sex, it won't be sex for sex. It won't be sex for him. It won't be sex for me.

It won't be sex. It will be our love. It will be our love that perhaps will result in a bond, a real bond that is not with a boy who wants to touch me because he likes my "exotic, oriental" body, is not with the boy who wanted to practice upon my body or the boy who used my auditory organs to unload his metaphoric crap.

We will come together for love. But, if we never couple our bodies and are the subject of mockery and of ridicule, we will just smile and ignore them, because our hearts and minds have mated even if our bodies never touched.

Or if we come together it will be with a purpose to bring a nameless little creature who we have not met yet and cannot, because I have not found this man yet.

I have imagined him. I have dream of him. I hope I will meet him one day and that everyday I spend alone, will be worth all the days I have spent alone, because he will be the one who will not love my body, but love

me
me

I seek a love only known to fictitious characters, even those who had sex for sex, for bodies like Angel Dumont Schunard, but he had a beautiful love, even if his end was not beautiful. But I would "die for a taste of what Angel had/Someone to live for/unafraid to say 'I love you.'" ("Goodbye Love" from Jonathan Larson's RENT)

I don't want multiple lovers. I don't need more. I don't want endless lines. I don't need that. I want one forever than a million for one night. Hits and misses are inevitable, but I will keep looking for him.

I am looking for a relationship and for love, I am not looking for sex.

I am looking for laughter, for life and for love.

Live. Love. Laugh.

I am looking for love. I am not looking for sex.

I want sex. I don't need sex.

I don't need to prove my love by having sex. Sex doesn't prove that I love you. Sex is not an expression of love necessarily. Love does not come with sex as sex does not come with love. You can have both as much as you can't have both. I am not looking for both. I am looking for love.

Without body. All mind. All mine. All me. All you. Dear you. With or without you. I love.

But together. I love. You.

"My true love is a man who never existed at all.
He was a beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold.
I can feel my heart growing old.

For my true love is a man.
That I haven't seen in years."

("Blue Caravan" preformed by Vienna Teng)