I used to go out often.
I frequented the bars where dancehall and soca was played most because this was definitely my type of scene.
Usually, it would be by myself because I don’t have too many friends.
Especially not the type of friends who would go to the after-after parties with me.
I used to wild.
So it was this one night that I was out, minding my own business in the corner of the dark and crowded room that they called the dance floor.
It was late and I was tired of dancing.
I would bet my feet was hurting too.
I remember sitting on the makeshift bench along the wall and then being approached by this tall, super dark dude.
Well, it was more like he came and sat next to me and didn’t stop making eye contact.
So fast forward a little through the night.
We done got real comfortable with each other and I’ve expressed more than a few times that I was not going to give him no pussy that night.
I knew why I wasn’t. Not necessarily because I wanted to be this good girl who didn’t give it out on the first night but because I ain’t feel like disclosing.
You know, I ain’t feel like telling this man that I’m living with HIV and shit.
I just wanted to be cute and flirt.
He said cool.
He reminded me that nobody had asked for none anyways.
So fast forward a little.
Naive me thought that I was being invited back to his apartment so that we could cuddle for the night and watch a movie.
And I fell for it.
Now y’all know that was NOT the reason I was invited.
Hell, by the time I’m laying in his bed half naked I was convinced that he didn’t just want to cuddle either.
I had to say something.
I had to disclose.
So here I am, drunk as hell standing in the middle of this man’s hoe room giving him all of the deets as to why I wasn’t giving him none.
I explained to him about the virus …
… and immediately I could see the remorse spread over his face.
I explained to him about how I was undetectable and how that meant that it was very unlikely that I would pass anything on to him if we were to have sex.
And plus we would use a condom.
He wasn’t hearing none of that shit.
Tip: No matter how uncomfortable, disclosure can help save lives. It allows the other person to make an informed decision.
But his next request was one that I was most definitely not prepared for.
He asked if I would masturbate in front of him so that he could watch?
What kind of shit was this?
He was afraid of my vagina and this fear led to his rejection of it.
BUT the same scary vagina was enough to please him to an orgasm just by looking at me play with it?!??
What not to do: Don’t put someone else’s pleasure before your own.
I learned a lot in that one night.
I became more aware of how objectified my body, and its parts, have been the whole while.
I realized I didn’t like it.
Needless to say, I left after this and spent the night in my own bed.
Which is where I should have been the whole time.
+ Ci Ci +