Desensitization

He turned on the computer and said he wants to show me something. The internet was slow back then, and we waited as an image slowly loaded, row by row. When I could figure out what it was, I shut my eyes tight, turned my face away, and started coughing from disgust.  "Why would you show me that!!?"

It was an image of a man, dressed in business attire sitting at the edge of a table...but as each row of the image uploaded, I realized that the lady beside him was doing something I had never even fathomed people did. Today kids joke about it all the time...but that was my first exposure. Nothing followed...but what had happened was I was now exposed to an act that I had not known about before. An image never leaves you.

Once he told me to turn on the television to a channel that I knew we didn't have access to at home. And we didn't...the screen was speckled, hazy and the sound was muffled.  I told him I can't see anything. He said, "No, just watch and listen closely". I did...and when I realized what it was I turned it off immediately. It was an adult movie. Again, I was disgusted. To this day I can not bring myself to watch any form of intimacy. It felt animalistic and I hate that feeling.

Another time he asked me whether I wanted to see an ejaculation. I said no. I thought if I said no whatever intimacy that was to follow would just have been the regular hug and hold. But instead, a few minutes later he ejaculated. He did fulfill my wish though...I didn't see it. I just felt it on my stomach. I remember he made a remark about how I can do well in my Health Class now. "You don't have to just rely on what your teacher tells you," he said..."you can see it for yourself".

I was innocent. Before him I knew only of hugging and kissing. I had learned about sex when I was in grade seven but it never ever crossed my mind - to me it was just something adults had to do to have children. What his sporadic and seconds of exposure to different ideas and images did do, however, was desensitize me.  He was slow and smooth...never forced me to do anything...but as days, weeks, months progressed, I was more willing and more free.

I grew to hate the physical however.  I never resisted but neither did I enjoy it. I liked it when he spoiled me and wrote me poems. I liked it when he would glance at me with mesmerizing eyes. I liked it when he told me how special I was and how much he cared. But I hated the physical.  The more explicit it became, the more I lost any pleasurable sensation. There was a time where I would give him the middle finger behind his back each time we were intimate. I even remember spitting at him. I hated him. I hated every moment.

Why did I allow this to progress?