I've contemplated writing this post for a while, because these are not the proudest moments of my life, but I thought there might be something for you to learn from my story. I sure have learnt a lot from these experiences.
These are some of the most vulnerable times of my life.
I was 18+ and working in a movie production company shooting at the most remote to the most metropolitan area. We were a group of really close-knitted casts and crew. The main actor is 5' 7", athletic, straight-acting and pretty good looking.
Well, other than the director, we all just assumed that everyone else is straight.
We were in a town of probably about 5,000 people shooting, staying in their biggest hotel, which has only 30 rooms, of which we took 10 - the entire floor. Shooting at the location wasn't too difficult, and we had a day holiday because it was the main actor's birthday. Let's call him Steve. The producer bought us dinner and later a few of us young ones went out partying.
We got back pretty drunk and went straight to bed. The guy I was sharing a room with was making too much noise so I move to another room and slept next to Steve because I was closest to him and he's got my back throughout the whole time of the production.
Middle of the night, I woke up to have someone spooning me with hands touching all over me. I froze and didn't know what to do. It was Steve and at that moment, I was more freaked out than anything else. I was too drunk to really have a clear image of what really happened but I know I was terrified.
The next day, life operated as if nothing has happened the night before and as if there was a reset button, we all went back to work.
However, he texted me, telling me that he likes me and all that. I was terrified, clueless and didn't reply. Somehow, one day, while everyone was on scene and I was at the van, he came over and hugged me from behind. I did not protest until he started moving his mouth near me. After several times of these kind of things happening, we finally ended up doing things together. (Too Much Information Alert: Throughout the time I was with him, we did all sorts of naughty things, except penetration.)
I refuse to call him my boyfriend because in my perception, we never dated. We were doing things partners do - holding hands, hugging, cuddling and sleeping together. After one week, we moved back to the city and I spent at least a week staying at his place. Because there were also a group of other people who was living in his house and everyone shared rooms, it wasn't suspicious, except obviously he was showering me with special treatments which I loathed.
It was a really good week and a half, but we slowly grew apart. The shooting ended and I left interstate. The texts reduced and the phone calls were almost none. It hurts me because he was the first guy I "dated" and I hated him for that. The naive side of me thought that like all fairytale, I've finally found what I was looking for. And one day, he just began to ignore me altogether and for a few days, I was left in the dark - struggling to understand what this means to me and at the same time has no one to turn to or talk to. I didn't have a blog back then nor do I know any online friends.
When I went through my first break up with my girlfriend, I have a bunch of more than amazing friends who would dragged me out and helped me move on. This time, I was left to myself.
I was all by myself, in a different state for the first time without any friends and I cried to sleep on several nights. Stalked him on social networking sites, read his emails (he gave me his email password which he never changed until today) and was very tempted to sabotage him. A lot of anger and disappointments boiled up in me and it brought me back to a time when Bryan passed away and I had to figure out how to grieve all by myself.
After a painful, extremely vulnerable and broken period, I finally managed to gather my shit together and move on. I have cried, deeply hated myself, feel absolutely crap and verged on clinical depression. I believe that the painful and very vulnerable experience was really important in making me a rather confident person that I am today.
I brought up this story because there is a Part 2 to this story.
Lesson 1: It's easy to hate ourselves and beat ourselves up when our expectations fail, but most of the times, when we remove ourselves from the highly emotionally draining picture, we'd realise that most of the times, we aren't at fault at all.