I woke up this morning with a lovely sex glow. He’s going to kill me for writing about this but I don’t think I have ever had that much sex in 24 hours as I did yesterday with Brandon. We had quite the eventful Thursday: sex, zoo (he asked if we could go about 5 minutes after we finished), home, sex, beach, home, sex, nap, sex, dinner, home, movie, sleep, morning sex. We have the raging hormones of sixteen year old boys and it works out quite nicely.
Well, it does and it doesn’t. Because we both have very busy schedules, sometimes we will go days without it which makes us both grumpy and frustrated with life. During a busy week, we will only engage in coitus about three times. I would say that sex gives me a greater high than any drug that I have ever tried. Its like an added happy pill on top of my Zoloft. My friends can always tell when I’m going through a celibate period because I’m depressed and my hair isn’t as shiny.
Growing up, sex was a weird topic for me. My mom is a devout Catholic (and I know she’s going to wince at reading this post, sorry mom) and always stressed waiting until marriage. That seemed crazy to me. How do two people wait for something like that? Especially when it’s such a huge thing in society. My friends in high school were losing their virginities at fourteen-fifteenish and my sister had lost hers at eighteen. Naturally, as a virgin, I had tons of questions for them. Did it hurt? How do you feel now? What does this mean for the two of you?
I saw a change in quite a few of my friends. There was a sense of clinginess that they hadn’t had before. A sadness in their eyes, a desperation. One friend in particular was absolutely broken after giving it away to an older guy. What she thought was a romantic moment in which she became one with his soul was really just another girl that he had conquered.
It’s the same old story: Girl falls in love with boy, boy says all the right things, girl is given a false sense of security, boy convinces girl they will always be together, girl gives him her innocence, boy pretends nothing happened and ignores girl. She began to binge eat out of emptiness and quit modeling.
My friends started losing their virginities during freshman year like it was some kind of silent competition. I had absolutely no desire to with any boys in my class because I just felt like they didn’t deserve it. Sure, I had hooked up with boys and did everything else by the time I was fifteen because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. I never let them go past anything else. I believed that someone was out there for me. Someone worthy.
It’s very interesting to look at the old photos of me compared to my post-coitus ones. I look so innocent. There’s a slight hint of added sexuality but you can see it in my eyes that I was a virgin. That’s why I made so much money in Tokyo, Japan. The Japanese image of a perfect girl was me: Blonde, big blue eyes, innocent, untouched. Like a delicate flower. Pun definitely intended.
I lost my virginity when I was seventeen to a twenty-year old boy, we will call “C”. I met him in Palm Beach in November when he was home visiting from college. I felt like I had hit that period where it was just time to let it go. I still had my emotional barriers up so I didn’t think that I would become attached to him. We spent a week together before I let him do it. Honestly, the breaking of my hymen was super painful.
A day later, he left for Masachusetts and I left for LA. I wasn’t phased by it at all and I didn’t feel any different. My sex drive didn’t increase or decrease. It was just another mindless milestone for me.
I was to return to Tokyo a month later and C asked if he could come with me for two weeks. This was the perfect opportunity for me. I would become better at having sex with the boy I had lost my virginity to. I agreed and we lived together for two weeks at an eccentric hotel in Daikanyama. It wasn’t just sex though. We enjoyed laying next to each other and talking and I loved introducing him to my other expat friends.
I had a crazy work schedule where I would work 12-16 hour days so I spent all my free time showing him the sights. We had so much fun together and we are still friends to this day. I still didn’t find myself emotionally attached to him which was great. I was extremely focused on my career so after he left, I returned to being single, hard-working Megan in the blink of an eye.
The next person I would become romantically involved with was a 30 year old man. I met him out at Cove in Tokyo through a mutual friend, Victor. He was from London and had that boyish, Paul McCartney thing going on so I was immediately interested. We often frequented a Japanese restaurant in Roppongi and would spend hours talking and chain-smoking. I shared with him my many fears of growing up and he taught me to enjoy everything that came into my path. After him, I was never able to find any guys my age attractive.
This is a little off topic but I feel the need to write about it. A lot of models are touted as being dumb but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. We are sent to big cities all around the world as young teens and have to learn to fend for ourselves. We have to quickly adapt mentally and emotionally and understand things like taxes and being alone. As soon as you step off that plane, you are an adult. You are living on your own and working long hours in countries where you don’t understand the language or life. A lot of models find it difficult to date anyone their age. That’s why I didn’t feel it was weird dating a 30 year old at the age of seventeen. As I reach my twentieth birthday, I have never dated anyone younger than twenty-four years old.
Pre-modeling, high school boyfriends don’t count.
I returned to LA and dated many other older guys. I never fell in love with any of them and the relationships would quickly dwindle. I was very conflicted. On one hand, I wanted desperately to fall in love and feel that passionate,never-let-me-go yearning. But on the other, I liked not being vulnerable and being in control of my feelings. I didn’t want to be clingy and annoying like other girls. The only other friend I had that agreed with me on this was Kelsey. We spoke of our unemotional hearts often and she simply attributed it to our daddy issues.
I eventually did fall in love in late 2013. It was the craziest thing that I had ever felt. I constantly questioned my developing feelings for a certain twenty-nine year old man. I didn’t feel like they were real at all. I thought maybe my subconscious was telling me it was “the time”, similar to how I felt about losing my virginity. I finally let go and let myself feel. It was a whirlwind romance that lasted a year and a half. I will dedicate another post to just him to shed some light on “my first love”.
I never thought I would get over “my first love” and then I met Brandon. He’s like a treasure that I had to search and sift through different cities and men to discover. I don’t know how I got so lucky to find him. It’s truly baffling to me. We both have traveled all around the world and lo and behold, here we are in sunny, West Palm Beach, FL where fate was waiting patiently for us. If I thought the feelings I had for “my first love” were crazy, the emotions I have for Brandon are tenfold.
So, I guess the bottom line is: What is love? I believe love is felt in so many different ways. To me, love is a fiery, intense connection that you wouldn’t give anything up for. It’s the tingle in your stomach when you see them calling. It’s the happiness you feel in the morning when you wake up next to them. It makes you feel invincible yet vulnerable. It’s a feeling that I have with Brandon that I wouldn’t trade for the world. It’s a feeling that you will go to extreme lengths to keep and fight for.
Now, the question that I have for my readers is: What is love to you? Brandon and I 🙂