My first marriage only happened because I wasn’t a virgin. It was thirty years before I realized that I had been raped. In 1969, I had just arrived at Ohio University, 200 miles from my home and my crazy mother. My first….what to call him? Not lover…because there was no love…my gynecological surgical tool…was a cute Sophomore who played guitar in a tacky local band, and the first of many tall, skinny ‘artists’ I was a sucker for. Bob invited me to his dorm room. I’d like to give you more details, but as I walked in, he closed the door, threw me down on the bed, pulled my clothes off…and raped me. About as seductive as a truck wandering onto a railroad crossing and being hit by the locomotive.
And ever the good host, Bob stood up angry and threw me out of his room shrieking. “You didn’t enjoy it!” Bear in mind, he felt that he had no hand, as it were, in my pleasure. He had not inquired as to whether or not it was my first time. He felt that the very presence of his male member should be all a woman needed for enjoyment. I had no idea what was going on and it was a bit too painful to be “enjoyed”.
Granted, it was 1969, and although the sexual revolution had begun on the East Coast, it was still 1927 in Ohio’s mind. So, being that I did not yet know what Feminism was. I simply left his room, as he demanded, and went back to my dorm and never heard from him again. And if you want to know why I do not mention blood…he left the condom in and I didn’t know it was there till it fell out two weeks later. (Thankfully, after I had returned to campus from Spring break. Try explaining THAT to your Mother.)
So ergo, Eddie, my first husband was the virgin when I went to Atlantic City for a summer job and met him. Eddie was dating a female virgin at the time. (Of course, I didn’t find that out till later) She was a nice Jewish girl who would have been perfect for him, except he was more of a gentleman than my first…experience…and whenever they tried to have sex, she stopped it at the first sign of pain. (Oh, Sweetie…if only you had just gritted your teeth and let it happen, how different all three of our lives would have been.) This had gone on for quite some time by the time he met me and of course, I didn’t know about her when we started dating. I was far from perfect for him but it was possible to have sex with me because there was no barrier to the act. And being an idiot who knew nothing about such things, there was also no pleasure in our sex, but at least he didn’t get angry at me. Like I said, it was before Feminism.
However, I had to return to Ohio from the summer job and Eddie and I parted ways, hopefully to never to see him again. Well, he showed at Ohio University two months later. I thought it meant love but I later found out, it was just about having sex. Not great sex, but at least I didn’t stop him every time as she had continued to do.
So why did I marry him? I was shy and weak and anxious for what seemed to be love. After that marriage ended, all of my romances, and my second marriage were also about sex. After I divorced Eddie, I learned more about sex and had much fun with it, but never met a man who didn’t think he could do better than me. Still, there is a happy ending to this tale. I read an Ohio newspaper and there was the joyous news that Bob had died of a heroin overdose. Karma. It’s a bitch. And now, so am I.