Two weeks ago, I lost my virginity.

I never understood the phrase “lost your virginity.” Personally I don’t feel like I lost anything, at least not anything I didn’t already lose. Gained an experience perhaps, gained a story. But lost something? The only thing I feel like I lost was 30 years of missed opportunities. But there is no point in mourning even that.

The event itself was fairly anti-climactic, despite it being the hardest thing I have ever done. He was a nobody, really. I have a sense that when I leave this place where I am presently residing, I will struggle to remember what he looked like. But I don’t think that’s the point. The point is ME. My life, my story and for once in my life, making my own god-damn decisions.

The young Christian girl in me who unfortunately still has a voice seems to think that one day I will regret picking a nobody but so far, I feel nothing but relief. I’ve moved on. You can never grow until you let go of what is unliving in you. And for me, the old belief system was far from alive. It was stinking up the house and needed to be tossed out to make room for whatever else is to come.

I feel excited about the future. Excited to learn. Excited to make more of my own decisions. I’m sure I will fuck up a lot. But even that I look forward to.

I have no idea where I am. Not a fucking clue. After 30 years on earth, all i know is that I don’t know shit. This is incredibly terrifying. For the majority of my life, I thought I had all the answers. I knew where I was going, I knew up from down, right from wrong and I was steadfast in my opinion of almost everything.

Until it all fell apart.

In reality, nothing falls apart in an instant. It’s a slow process, small cracks in the wall until one day you realize that the foundation is gone and you have nothing. At least for me it was. It’s not like I woke up one day and realized I no longer believed in Christianity. It took years to be able to admit to anyone, even myself that what I once was so sure of, I wasn’t anymore. Who wants to face the reality that everything you knew was wrong? But even more that that, now I have to make my own decisions and face the consequences. I’m thirty years old and I feel completely ill-equipped to make life choices. I feel like a teenager.

There is no one to answer to but me. For someone who grew up under the leadership of church/God/family, this revelation can be shocking and liberating at the same time. I suspect it will take a few more years for me to stop metaphorically looking over my shoulder to see who’s watching.