If you think of High School, I’m sure you imagine the over-dramatized idea of the rough patch of life that is the teenage playground. Certain stereotypes might surround the concept of the “mean girls”, and in contrast, you could also acknowledge those who are deemed “the losers”. You imagine Troy Bolton singing about the status quo, and you might even see Sharpay in the background bragging about designer handbags. High school is a confusing and chaotic rollercoaster, regardless of what might come to mind.
I had a unique experience, with a huge group of friends and dramatic life. There were at least 15 of us in total, and all of us were very close. We got into a lot of shenanigans.
My friend group was pretty diverse, and most of us were gay. Not everyone, of course, but those who were queer could coexist with those who were non-queer. It was a utopia, filled with laughter and fun. Or so I thought.
I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the idea of physical boundaries, since my friend group seemed to ignore this element of friendship altogether. Leading us down a path that was less utopian.
Many of my friends enjoyed physical affection. We could be seen holding hands, cuddling, sharing hoodies, you name it. It was such a phenomenon within our friendship that made many outsiders assume we were romantically involved. When that couldn’t be further from the truth. If the hand-holding was what made our dynamics confusing, I should tell you about the times we’d all kiss each other, just for fun!
Some of us started exploring sexual relationships without a romantic aspect. We all assumed that because we were friends, we could trust each other. That trust seemed more intimate than anything, but these friendship dynamics were a little more complicated than crushes. I eventually began exclusive intimate relationships with my “friends”, and we’d do everything together that a normal relationship would do. We’d do it all, all without being in love.
I was 16 then, and my understanding of platonic and romantic relationships became skewed. I wasn’t sure what the expectations were, and I had no idea why my friends hung out with me. Was it because I was making them feel good? Or was it because they enjoyed my company? The lack of boundaries started to weigh on me.
Being a walking sex toy for my friends continued for a while, in fact, this was our main way of interacting with each other. I started to expect it, and question my value to them if they ever stopped. Eventually, sensual physical affection became the validation of my self-worth. If I could keep my friends happy, I know they’d stay.
I can’t remember how I got into this situation. One day we were all friends, and everything was great. Then we got a little too touchy, and feely. I ended up in someone’s bed, and then another. Soon every single one of them has seen me naked. I felt so dirty after it all.
To this day, I still have trouble telling the difference between kindness and flirting. I find it hard to navigate wholesome relationships, and still have a certain expectation that my friends have at least imagined us having sex, but just haven’t told me yet. Maybe that’s just sexual trauma, who knows?
Though, now I’m a lot more mindful of people’s boundaries. I try to gauge someone’s love languages when I interact with them. I try to create spaces with my friends where they could tell me if I’m doing something wrong, cause I don’t want to them to feel unheard and uncomfortable as I did. I also try my best to uphold my own boundaries, and to be honest when I’m not comfortable with something. It’s difficult to work through, but it teaches me a lot about how I want to be loved, and how I go about loving others. And at the very least, I just wanted to create something, to be someone, that’s simply, nice.
Credit for Image: Marina Shatskikh Pexels.com
