Disney lied

I'm on the otherside of the world and I feel lost. I'm lonely. I'm unhappy. I don't really know why. I've lost my passion for life. I met a really nice boy. We had a lovely date and I didn't know how to progress it or if I wanted to. It's been so long since I've encountered someone I like sober. But he made me smile and that was really nice. I spend so much time in my own head that I don't know how to escape it anymore. How do you stop the daydreams and the overthinking? 

I think it goes deeper. I think I'm stuck in my high school mindset because I haven't progressed much since high school. I have the same friends and the same shitty job. I feel stuck as the girl who partied too much, who got used by boys and eventually sexually assaulted. I thought the solution was to own my sexuality and have casual sex and 'fuck like a man'. But I can't. I feel empty. I don't like my body but I also feel so disconnected from it. I keep bingeing/ purging and eating things I don't even really like. I have all these dreams and goals and ambitions that I'm so afraid of never reaching. I can see the future but I don't know how to get there. 

On paper, I'm perfect. I excel at my degree, I'm well travelled, I have a stable but shit casual job that pays. I got invited on an all expenses paid trip to Japan because of my academic excellence. I have all these opportunities. I feel them slipping through my fingers. Time is also slipping. I seem to be simultaneously stagnant and rushing. I need help. I don't know where to get help or how to ask for it. I feel like I've failed if I ask for it. 

I keep going back to this one moment that I think started it all. My first kiss. He was older and I had this ridiculous little girl crush. I was so excited when he talked to me, when he liked me, when he wanted to kiss me. I didn't understand the social contract then. I didn't understand the societal obligations placed on women. He was older. He was faster. For me, everything was new. Kissing felt like fire and his hands on my skin felt incredible. I was comfortable with kissing. He wasn't. I didn't understand how men worked then. I quickly learnt. I quickly learnt that it was better so say yes and be spared the anger "what the fuck am I here for if you don't want to have sex' 'it's not cool to leave a guy with blue balls'. The next day he messaged me to tell me that he was mad I didn't get him off. That now I 'owed' him nudes. I wish I could go back to that moment and tell him that it wasn't cool to try and pressure a girl into things she wasn't ready for. That my body is not a toy and he doesn't own any part of it. That there was no obligation. 

It's funny. He is so significant in my life and I'm probably irrelevant to him. His hands are the first to touch me. The first of many to be imprinted on my skin. But somehow, his hold more weight. I wonder what would happen if I messaged or saw him again. If he would remember. If he would feel bad. 

I wanted to believe that men were gentlemen. That someone would like me for me and not my body. That I was important. That people can simply care about each other. Disney sold me a story about Princesses finding Princes. I was rudely awakened. 

I still don't know how to be emotionally or physically intimate. I don't know how to escape my head and escape my skin and be what I want. I thought it would be easier in another country with people who didn't know me. I thought recreating myself would be easy. 

But I don't know how. 

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