I grew up in a household whose motto on sex was "If I find out you're doing it, I'll kill you" from my father, "You BETTER not be" from my mother and "Good Christians don't have sex before marriage!" from my grandparents.  Many would think that, with such daunting, one would abstain from sex entirely.  Many would be wrong.

My childhood was less than ideal.  Without going into the gory details, my father was abusive and convinced me that I was pretty much worthless.  Throughout my childhood and into my teenage years, I found myself searching for someone (a boy, specifically) that would make me feel good about myself and, eventually, whole.

I found this boy, or so I thought, sophomore year of high school.  I had been feeling a bit desperate.  I had tried to get a date to homecoming freshman year and it seemed as though no one wanted to take me.  I had the same predicament sophomore year.  My father's cruel words seemed to be reinforced by the opposite sex's lack of interest in me.  "Maybe I am worthless," I would think to myself.  "After all, if guys don't think I'm special, why should I?"  Needless to say, I was suffering from a lack of self-esteem.  And this boy came around at the wrong point in my life.

I went to a football game with some of my close friends.  I looked over and saw a boy, about a foot taller than me, dressed somewhat eccentrically.  I was intrigued.  I would steal a few quick glances, only to find the gaze of his lined eyes meeting my own.  He eventually came over and talked to me.  He gave me his myspace (this was about 4 years ago, mind you) and, although I didn't want to leave at all, when the time came I agreed to contact him.

Not much later, I thought I was in love.  Not only was I in love, I was convinced that this was the love of my life.  I was certain that I would marry him.  He showered me with attention and opened the world to me.  He changed the way I viewed things and I told myself that I would do anything for him.

This boy was not, however, who I thought he was.  


He confessed to me sadly one day that he had cheated on me.  I was broken-hearted.  I broke up with him.  He then said that he lied to me to "see how far he could push me."  I got back together with him.  So was the seemingly endless cycle that I plunged into for 2 years of my life.  And yes, I gave him my virginity.  He told me that I was the first girl he'd ever been with.

After I finally did away with him for good (once he stopped calling me 20 plus times a day trying to get me to go back to him), I thought I could get my life back on track.  I decided to move on and live my life.  At this time, I had finally gotten out of my father's grasp.  I had gotten into the college of my choice and was ready for a turning point in my life.

It was around this time that I found out that I had HPV.  The HPV I had was the type that caused cervical cancer.  Despite getting my Gardasil shot, which I naively thought would make me immune, and despite only being with one "faithful" partner, I had an STD.  An STD that would likely impact me for the rest of my life.

Now, 19, I've realized that I don't need a boy to make me feel good about myself.  I've also realized that I should have waited to have sex.  I was convinced that I was in love, however, and it was this conviction that did me in.  i now have the price to pay for what I now realize was an abusive relationship.  I'm going to the gynecologist in March to find out whether my abnormal cell growth has gone away or not.  If it has not, it is likely that I will have recurrent cervical cancer at some point in my life.

The point of my story is this: if my parents would have been open to the idea of me having sex, they might have been able to warn me about the dangers of it.  At 16, I thought I was immune to everything.  I was a reckless teenager with nothing to lose and I thought that being in love was the answer to everything.  I also thought that teenage relationships meant that you had to have sex.  I really feel that, had my parents offered me condoms or something of that nature, I would have been protected.  Instead of sneaking to my boyfriend's house for a quickie, I could have been going with my parents to CVS for a pack of condoms.  I could have been openly with my boyfriend.  Perhaps, without all of the risk involved, our relationship would have lost some of its appeal.  Instead, I'm battling something that will be with me for the rest of my life.  Abstinence-only education is not the answer and, had I more resources available to me, I think that I might have had a better chance to avoid HPV and, ultimately, cancer.