I also began to understand how much pressure young women face—pressure to do it, pressure to be ready, pressure to prioritize someone else’s experience over their own comfort.
Looking back, I know I wasn’t ready. I was anxious, nervous, and too much in my own head. My body reflected that.
I didn’t have sex again for an entire year. I needed time to heal—physically and emotionally. When I eventually did, it felt completely different. It was slower, more comfortable, and although there was some initial discomfort, it wasn’t painful in the same way. It felt more natural—like my body was finally cooperating instead of resisting.
Now, sex is something I associate with positivity, not fear. It feels safe, enjoyable, and mutual.
If I could go back, I would tell my younger self to wait. To listen to her body. To not rush into something just because it feels expected.
