Jaclyn The Slut

9

Ya know, I have been thinking about how to approach this topic for a few days now.

My Higher Self has pushed me to the edge of exposure. I can not say no to the request to share.

On one hand I want to come at it with love for all and forgiveness. Which I do have.

On the other hand I hold the unapologetic sword of truth, so I say...

How dare you.

Lets travel through time to the delicate age of 12.

Do you remember?

Do you remember what your sexual education was like?

If anything like me it was literally non existant. Who would think your 12 year old daughter needed "the talk" yet.

Right?

As you read this I want you to imagine this happening to your own daughter. Especially if you were one of these people in my life, just imagine. Humor me.

We had a trailer at the beautiful Crystal Beach Park in Marmora ON. A place that ended up being where my social problems began as well as where my freedom lied from the harsh world created around me from what happened there. Strange paradox.

In this place my best friend and I roamed with adventure in our hearts. Always looking for new friends to fit in with.

There was a mix of kids that attended this park.

While we were from a small rural town, there were a lot of teens from Oshawa and Toronto there.

I guess they grow up quicker in the city.

So my friend and I found a few guys we thought were cute. Our little crushes lol.

I cant speak for my friend. But I had no clue what was appropriate and what wasnt. Honestly I didnt even know what sex was.

All I knew was I liked kissing this guy. I liked everything he was doing so I didnt really question it.

He was 16 so he knew what he was doing.

Annnyyyywho. Things happened. He never stopped to ask me if I was a virgin, I was just flowing with it all synchronistically.

After I told my friend about it. She said "Jaclyn you had sex!"

I immediately started freaking out lol.

I asked my mom for some money to buy a poutine the next day so we could walk into Madoc and buy a pregnancy test lol. Hehehe. Unaware of my own anatomy and how that even worked. Like it would show up instantly.

It was a bit traumatic for me.

A slap of adulthood right to the face.

To scared to speak to my parents about it.

My friend was my only source of comfort.

After that weekend we went back to school.

My friend was always a loner. That's kind of why I liked her. We got each other.

But the day I was sick from school she attempted to bond with others by telling them about my private moments.

And there it began.

The day I got back to school I had multiple friends approaching me and asking me about it.

I felt like a deer in the headlights.

My heart sunk down to my pelvic floor. I couldn't breathe for a moment.

I could hear the guys snickering and laughing looking over at me.

In this small school word spread fast.

Labelled a slut at the age of 12.

How crushed I was. But if you know me, you know I come from a home where I was raised to stand my ground quite a bit. While I was a rebel and gave my parents a hard time, I knew they liked that quality in me. They were proud of it.

So there I was. Standing my ground with my poker face on. You wouldn't catch a tear stream down my face at that time of my life. Strong and cocky in public.

While the second I hit my pillow the flood gates openned, I think I cried for 2 days straight.

How dare she.

My best friend telling my secrets.

From that point on it really didnt matter what I did it was always what they thought.

Even when I thought it had settled. There were always jokes mostly from the guys. My closest crew of friends were the first ones to laugh.

Not one thought to stand out of the crowd to protest.

So I went to school, I endured the jokes.

I couldn't wait for the weekends to escape to the trailer.

I drank with my older friends from the city, I partied, danced around in the lake and around the fires nude like a wild pagan.

In a way I guess it set me free.

Mind you I did get takin advantage of on occasion there.

My heart open to love and their brain in their pants, no heart to be found.

Sacred sexual connections weren't something on these teenage boys minds.

But it was something I searched for.

I wasn't a slut.

Or maybe I was. Lol. I dont think so.

This is where I cultivated friendships with no limitation.

A boyfriend without the label.

Because we all went home to our lives in different cities after.

I would only have one friend I would sleep with at a time.

I dont see what's so slutty about that.

This occured mostly in the summers.

Through the school year I had a boyfriend in the home town.

Though I was loyal, I still got a few snickers and jokes here and there.

Lol. If they only knew what my summers were like. They would have much more to snicker about.

There were some one off moments as well I guess. A guy I had fooled around with thought it was ok for him to partake in this moment of sexual expression but somehow not ok for me?

Calling me names the next week.

So I had my revenge and made a name for him.

But no one cared.

He was cool for it.

I was a slut.

I have wondered. Would I have been so open to experience all of this at a young age if I wasnt told who I was?

If I wasnt labelled?

Who knows?

I will never know.

I do know I was always seeking acceptance. I was seeking aproval. I was seeking a place to be me.

I love that park.

Still to this day I go back there and sit at the rock where I spent my hungover mornings smoking my joints and water gazing.

Where I found peace away from the storm at home.

Where I created my own storm.

Where I had like minded friends.

Where I could just be me without judgement.

Where I could scream and cart wheel in the sand.

The truth is. I had the best times there. Being a "slut".

I got to a point where I couldn't tell a loyal good guy if he was right in my face.

They generally didnt want sex right away.

They were my friends. Although they were shy and did not communicate their feelings. I could see the heart break when I told them I was sleeping with someone.

I remember thinking, why didn't you hit on me?

I wanted the users. Almost like I was programmed for it.

I even picked up a few of their tricks for myself and adopted this way of being.

I felt like a cold stone at one point. Like I wasn't worthy of true love.

I did find love though. It may have been a bit toxic. But I found what matched my traumas. From this life and others.

Fuck.

Exposure eh.

Well. Now after all this time I am a grown up with a 10 year old daughter of my own.

I think back to those times like... damn.

I wish someone would have told me.

I wish someone would have warned me how society ostrisizes this behavioir.

I wish someone would have had my back.

I wish they would have told me how women are treated different than men.

So I will tell my children.

After all this time

I have done A LOT of learning and healing. I have had to choose myself again and again. Building the boundaries I should have had as a 12 year old girl.

Shame is poison. Shame for something so natural and sacred is poison.

I know you guys didnt know better.

But I still want to say...

How fucking dare you.

How dare you take the most intimate sacred moments of someones life and make it a source for your entertainment.

I hope in this day you will take the time to educate your children about their sexuality. Most of all I hope you educate them to respect the privacy of those moments and take care of their friends and peers.

I hope you educate them that they are worthy of exploring themselves without fear of judgement.

Give them a safe space to be.

After building these walls of protection as I have grown in to who I am, I find the need to start tearing them down.

Stripping myself back to who I was when I expressed myself freely.

This time without the shame.

I am truly honoured to be experiencing life.

I can not let fear of judgement stop me from that.

I forgive you. Even if you are not sorry.

I forgive myself.

I love every moment that taught me to have thick skin and stand on my own.

I also honour the soft side of me that wanted to collapse through time and rewrite it all. Do it all over different.

But I like me.

I love me. ❤️

I honour this moment that I have chosen to speak about it. Even if I am shaking like a leaf. It is part of my healing process.

So again.

How dare you

&

Thank you

I say it with justice, conviction, anxiety, forgiveness and love all at the same time.