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After camp that year, I returned to high school with more confidence. I started dressing fashionably and did my hair and makeup again. I even got into the habit of crossing my legs to seem more alluring. A fellow student, Jim, took notice. When he saw me in the hallway during the first week of school he said, "Wow, something is different about you. What did you do?" Jim had a girlfriend, so it didn't go anywhere. But that didn't stop him from playing his guitar for me at lunch every day.
When I graduated, I was still a virgin and frustrated. I could get wet just like any able-bodied girl. I'd get an intense tingling sensation between my legs whenever I daydreamed about Leonardo DiCaprio or the hockey players at my school. Desperate, I decided to search the Minneapolis chat room on AOL for boyfriend material. All I had to do was enter the room, and dozens of guys would start messaging me. Even when disabled, seventeen-year-old girls are always appealing. I put my disability in my profile, so every guy knew what he was getting into before even before the first "Hello, ASL?"
I was fresh out of high school when I met my first online guy in person. He was twenty-four and nervous since I was underage. We met at a park down the street from my mom's house. I tried very hard to be cool and sexy. I wore shorts and a fitted white tee, and faked an air of confidence. But a minute into the meeting, I hit my elbow on my armrest, breaking open a sore, and started bleeding. Suddenly my hot date was running to the park bathroom wetting tissues for me. He gave me a wet kiss goodbye, but I never heard from him again.
I started going online every day: the romance chat rooms and Minnesota chat rooms were my regular hangouts. I purposely shied away from disabled dating sites. (Simply put, with my level of injury, it's impossible to get physically close with another wheelchair user. At least one of us would need hip-flexor muscles. End of story. I love vaginal intercourse too much to give it up. I've had some disabled guys get really pissed when I explain to them why I don't date them. They say its reverse-discrimination. I say it's strictly practical.)
One day a man from Oklahoma IM'ed me. After a few months of flirtatious chatting, he drove up to Minnesota to see me. At that point, I was a
When we turned on the lights, I discovered I had bled like a sieve. |
freshman in college and living alone in my dorm. He and I hit it off immediately and started visiting each other regularly. I lost my virginity in his mom's guesthouse, blocks away from the home stadium of the O.U. Sooners.
At first, it didn't work. I was too tight and my vagina was lower than most (this has nothing to do with my disability), so the awkwardness made him soft. After a while, we tried again. In the dark, he put me on my back, undressed me stealthily, lifted my knees up to my chest in a bent position, and rotated my hips upward. It finally worked. My joy after he whispered "I'm in!" was soon followed by a disappointing grunt, signaling the end of my first time only minutes after it had begun.
Unfortunately, when we turned on the lights, I discovered I had bled like a sieve. Back then, I had a catheter in my urethra to keep my bladder empty. (I can now independently drain my bladder via a tiny hole in my bellybutton.) His penis had rubbed the catheter the wrong way and irritated the inside of my bladder. Blood was flowing into my drainage bag, which was lying on the bed beside me.
But I didn't let this scare me off. A year later, the Oklahoma guy and I were deep in a serious, sexually active relationship, even talking about marriage, when a friend of mine told me I was being stalked online by several "devotees," a group of fetishists who get off on wheelchair users, particularly those with atrophied legs and spastic muscles. I told my boyfriend about this shocking revelation and he acted surprised, weirded out and disgusted. A week later, he tearfully confessed that he was one of those freaks. I was devastated. He told me that even though my wheelchair was what attracted him in the beginning, he was now truly in love with me. I was too in love with him to break it off.
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