That Magical Moment When I Stopped Saying Sorry

I started growing boobs in second grade. Boys didn’t even experience puberty before I started becoming sexualized. Tits in 2nd, period not long after. Hormones Hormones HORMONES!!!!! And I am suppose to apologize for having sex at 13? Bitch please, with the shit I saw by then, I was more of an adult than you were last year.

I remember saying sorry a lot… ever since I could remember.

“Sorry Ms. Hannigan, I promise I wont distract boys with the fabric strap that holds the cups that press against my supple and slightly resented breasts” – not an actual quote

 

“Sorry mom, I promise I wont make out with my hot mexican boyfriend in the back of the handicap equipped van meant to transport your dying son, if only I had a better understanding of the burn between my legs” – quite possibly an actual quote because my mom is a bad ass bitch who taught me to be real, to be honest and to embrace all of me…. except the part that might not want kids…… sorry mom

 

“Sorry first real relationship. I get that you were awkward as fuck when you were 13 but I had a spilling C cup, a dead brother and years of hormone experience and I was fucking ready” – most DEF not an actual quote because I dated sensitive little bitches for faaaaar too long.

“Im sorry I farted, I ate a lot of the pasta that you insisted we order even though you pressure me to be on a diet”

“Im sorry I dont feel like wearing  a lot of makeup, I have the flu…. and you literally came over just to fuck in the dark”

“Im sorry Im not 115”

“Im sorry I have a period”

“Im sorry I like sex”

“Im sorry…..

SHUT THE FUCK UP ASHLEY!

 

One of the best moments of my life was when I realized I didnt have to apologize. Ya, I might piss some people off, lose a few. But you know what I will get in return? Me. IN FULL FORCE.

The real me, the me that my momma raised me to be (besides a mother cough. sorry mom)

I was done feeling ashamed for reacting genuinely. For occaionally overindulging. But most of all, for having things happen NATURALLY to my body, that were weeeeeeell beyond my control.

 

“Im sorry for having a period”

I started my period in elementary school. My mom cried. Not out of joy, out of pity…. That her daughter could no longer hold on to her innocence and now had to become a “woman”……. BUT NOT TOO FAST YALL!

 

Start your period, deal with adult things but HOW DARE YOU ACT LIKE AN ADULT!!

 

Thats grade school. Maybe not for you, but that was grade school for me. If only it prepared me for the onslaught of men who would insist I hide the wrapper….of the applicator…. of the wedge….. that was GOING to soak up the blood that naturally and AGGGGGRREESSSSIVELY fell out of my vagina…….

 

“Im sorry for being emotional”

I remember my second grade teacher but I don’t remember her name….. shame. She was incredible, although I am sure she is probably going by a different name now, one of a man, I hope. She took a liking to me, one that through all of the fog and haze of my PTSD and loss of childhood memories, was there. She saw a complex little girl, with her wild imagination and mature sorrow as a thing of inspiration. She never made me say sorry. But she did made me learn how to wear  a different face and that makes me just a tiny bit mad at her. She did that stupid gesture of waving your hand in front of your sad face and suddenly having a happy one… you know the one. I hope she knew hope fucking real that was. How that would shape me for the rest of my life.

 

Put on your happy face Ash!

Except I’m done with that, and wherever he is, I am sure he is too.

 

“Im sorry for having body hair”

Seventh grade, a boy who was wildly unliked by everyone, he was my friend. He played the guitar like a GOD and loved Green Day and Metallica. We were best friends. Until he found other friends and I suppose I did too. Did I mention my boobs were big? It catapulted me into “Popular Girl” stardom…. when all I wanted was to listen to my theater geeks account of someone slipping off stage and my loner friend showing me a new band I  might like. GG (guitar god) thought I wasn’t “metal enough” for his new friends. Fair enough, I did like Spice girls so fuck me right? In one of our classes, he made a spectacle of my hairy arms. He pretended to be a warrior trying to get through the forest that was my arm hair. If only I had any idea of how men were going to treat my vagina later in life………..

 

“Im sorry that I have to wear a bra”

 

I wanna say her name was Ms. Choa. I could be sooo wrong. But she was a science teacher that I had in eighth grade that fucking HATED me. Becaause by eighth grade I had started to embrace my sexuality and kinda like it. I walked into her class after lunch, no morning sweater on anymore…. because…. well San Diego. She saw a bra strap. A little tiny piece of fabric that acted solely to hold a cup that held the lump of fat that rested below my neck. Do you think I chose these? No. I dont know if I was even chosing my bras yet but I sure as hell got in trouble for it. Principles office, school tshirt covered in other peoples sweat and a note to momma, who crumbled and laughed as she picked me out an even sluttier shirt to go to school in the next day. Ms. Choa was hot. I remember this. She wore skirts and shirts that didnt make her look terrible, I promise you that, but its definitely best that she made a young 13 year old miss out on her education just because a shoulder was showing!

 

“Im sorry I like SEX”

 

My first orgasm was when I was 11, momma made the mistake of letting me have a computer in my room and I found the good ol world of porn. Lesbian porn in particular.  Eleven years on this earth and I already found my bestest friend in the whole wide world, how lucky was I?!?!? Not lucky because baaaaabbbess youre not allowed to enjoy sex until you find a man to serve for the rest of your life, duh! HA! Sex sucked for so long. But masturbation didnt. I dated selfish little jack hammering dicks until….. I was in my 20’s if were honest, so almost 10 years of crap? ….

 

“Im sorry I masturbate… and to porn”

10 yeeeeeears of crap. Yet I had an idea of what I liked? BITCH PLEAASE! You play with your barbies, Ill play with my clitorous. It makes me so sad that women often find masturbation and porn as such a dirty thing….. baby, no one will love you like you do. I have always had two sexual partners. Me and Boyfriend. He was better than a dildo so he can stay but me…. ooooo me got it. If porn dictates your sex life or keeps you or your partner from loving you right, I get your frustrations but the sooner you realize that porn is your best friend, the better. I am sooooo not sorry for loving porn or letting my boyfriend love porn because well…. sometimes Im tired or hes at work or…. we needed some extra help in the bedroom. Either way, if he aint sticking it anywhere warmer than his hand, be thankful. They arent all like that.

 

“Im sorry I like the smell of my vagina”

Girls, dont lie. You smell your panties. And you kinda like it huh? It was never that way for me. I would smell because I wanted to make sure that my boyfriend didnt have to deal with anything weird or… “fishy”. I at one point would shower three times a day and change my underwear even more… why? To keep my man happy. Psst……. secret time!!! The more you wash, with foreign chemical…. the more your pussy is gonna hate you SO CHILL THE FUCK OUT AND LET BE WHAT IS GOING TO BE!!!!!! I have embraced my smell, its far from bad. Trust me, but its also…. something. And thats okay. What your body is doing, is what it needs to be doing.

Let me tell you another secret, no secretions or smells usually hints at big baaad issues, like not lubricating enough to have good sex, so have fun with that bitch!

 

“Im sorry if today, I dont wanna shower…. or wear (dun dun duuuuuun) makeup!!”

 

“Are you going to become one of those girls who just doesnt try?”

“Its pizza, I didnt realize I had to”

“It was special to me, I thought maybe you might wanna try a little”

“Im sorry, I guess I should have”…… conversation is REAL.AS.FUCK.

 

Makeup was owed to him. He payed his 40$ for dinner, I better wear makeup for it. Granted, I love makeup and what it can do. I love transforming myself, becoming something different….. but not when its required!………… If a person requires you to wear sparkly gold lids all day, what the FUCK are you doing there?

“Make that bitch go in a pool on a first date”

 

PLEASE FUCKING DO YOU ASS FUCK!!! I LOVE POOLS!!!!

I also love that you can find out what youre really getting because guess what, I aint wearing makeup 24-7. This simplifies it for all of us.

 

 

“Im sorry I cuss like a sailor”

Bahahaha I dont even have a story for this because everyone knows they’re getting this shit no matter what they say or do.

“Im sorry my past has defined me”

“Im sorry my past has created insecurities”

“Im sorry my metabolism slowed down”

“Im sorry I like threesomes with other women more than you”

“Im sorry I am particular about show towels in the bathroom”

“Im sorry I am just a waitress”

“Im sorry I am fucked up”….

 

Bu the craziest thing happened, the moment I realized I needed to say my last sorry’s…..

I bled during sex. You were slightly thrown off. I cried because I was embarased… but weirdly enough, you survived. No one died. So I laughed. And the laugh giggled my beer gut and even that didnt kill the love of my life. In fact, he laughed too and in all of our bloody glory, we just laughed. Simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less.

So…..

 

Lastly…

 

“I am sorry that I am a woman with a different set of ideals, standards and passions as the next. I am sorry that I am woman who doesnt want to adhere to some socially created standard. I am sorry that I am so unapologetically me. So crude. So sexual, so fat, so outrageous, so promiscuous. Im sorry I like short skirts and drinking beer with the boys. I am so so so sorry that I didnt fit into your mold”

 

Why are we doing this? Why are we ashamed? I know I am not the first woman to ask but hell, I aint gonna be one that shuts up about it. We bleed. We cry. We fight and wear too short of skirts. Were imperfect and um…. arent men too? Is everything that weve ever made contact with NOT imperfect in some way? Even Gisele…. although its debatable. SO why women? Why are we the ones who constantly have to toe a line? Why are we always saying sorry?

 

Well, to that, I will give you a sincere apology. Because I really am so fucking sorry that I am not sorry.

 

Except to my Momma, I can never say sorry enough

2 thoughts on “That Magical Moment When I Stopped Saying Sorry

  1. Forever relatable. I love reading you write this. You’re such a resilient warrior woman and I’m just so proud of you Shea

    Like

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