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You're an adult and no longer live with your parents so you don't have to follow the rules they had for you when you did.Those rules were to raise you from a child to an adult the best way your parents knew how.My parents chose familial inclusiveness over standing on a principle. They wouldn't allow him to stay at their house with me when we came to visit.That relationship ended up falling apart later, but in my next relationship I approached it differently. I stopped giving a shit because I had to focus on how much damage the church had caused me in terms of guilt, especially guilt linked to sex.
Sometimes the crucifix above my bed would catch my eye, and I could swear I saw Jesús shaking his head.I was 14 years old the day that I stood up in church and announced I was going to be a nun. I spent every minute outside of school at my parish. My wild streak didn’t lead me to boys; it led me straight to Jesús’s arms. The colors itched, and I knew the only thing that could make that itch stop was a boy. Everything tingled, and I teleported to heaven and back. We would have sex on my twin mattress, and I don’t know who I was more afraid of, God or my dad. The summer I turned 16 was the summer that puberty hit me like a runaway train. It’s as if I had been a green mango all my life and suddenly I was ripening, there were all these colors growing inside of me. When my first boyfriend confessed his feelings to me, we were in his home. He kissed me, and I felt so many things that I wanted to cry. I was 18 when my boyfriend began climbing through my bedroom window almost nightly.Plus, I have anxiety and the idea of making myself stand out was just not in the cards.Even the college I attended (that I chose) was a small, Christian college, where many of the students held the same beliefs as I was raised with.