In many ways, it felt like a true “first time”—but without the fear, without the pressure, and without the same level of pain. There was still some discomfort, but it was different. It felt more like a natural stretching, like a muscle being used in a new way, rather than something forced or overwhelming.
More importantly, I felt present.
I wasn’t stuck in my head.
I wasn’t overthinking every second.
I was there, in the moment, aware of how I felt and comfortable enough to respond to it.
I felt comfortable.
I felt safe.
I felt in control.
And that made all the difference.
Now, sex is something I associate with positivity. It’s something that brings happiness, connection, and excitement—not anxiety or fear. That shift didn’t happen overnight, but it happened because I took the time to understand what I needed and what I deserved.
And that understanding changed everything.
If I could go back and speak to my younger self, I would tell her to wait.
Not because there’s a “right age” or a strict timeline, but because readiness matters more than anything else. I would tell her that it’s okay to say no, to take things slow, and to prioritize her own comfort above everything else.
I would tell her that she deserves to feel safe.
That she deserves to feel heard.
And that her experience matters just as much as anyone else’s.
I would tell her that there is no rush.
No deadline.
