Editor’s Note: This piece contains sexual references and strong language so it’s not for young eyes.
I sat perfectly still staring out the window, trying desperately not to think about what I was about to do.
I heard my message alert go off on my phone and I quickly whipped it out in front of me. It was him.
The message read “Two minutes away, babe.”
My heart started to pound faster and faster. The receptionist came over to me and asked me if I needed some help. I told her that I was fine, I was just waiting for someone.
I felt incredibly self-conscious sitting there doing nothing so I decided to browse Instagram while I waited. I was browsing through my newsfeed and had just seen my third dog photo when he walked in.
My heart felt like it was trying to force its way out of my mouth. He came over to me and said “hi” before he kissed me on the lips while I tried desperately not to hyperventilate.
I wasn’t sure if I should go through with this. I had originally thought I would always lose my virginity to someone I had real feelings for and not some random guy from Tinder.
On the way to the hotel room, I felt sick. I wasn’t sure if I should go through with this. I had originally thought I would always lose my virginity to someone I had real feelings for and not some random guy from Tinder.
Proving My Life Wasn’t Over Because of My Disability
To me this was about more than losing my virginity, it was about proving to myself that my life wasn’t over because of the severity of my disability. Everything that Helga had said played through my mind and I felt myself getting angrier and angrier.
She had originally recommended that I find a prostitute to satisfy my needs as if by being in a wheelchair it made me unattractive to all men.
She had originally recommended that I find a prostitute to satisfy my needs as if by being in a wheelchair it made me unattractive to all men and that I would have to pay someone for sex. When I told her that I had found someone (who wasn’t a hooker) she told me that I wouldn’t be allowed to bring him back to the house I was living in.
She told me I had to be mindful of the other girls, even though I was living with three other adult women. It made me so angry that these women were treated like children just because they were non-verbal and couldn’t tell the organisation who ran the house to get fucked.
I couldn’t believe that Helga had told me I needed an email from my parents saying they were aware what I was planning to do with this guy, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to let me go in a cab to the hotel on my own. That is how hairy it got.
Apparently, I needed a permission slip to make my own decisions. I am just lucky I have pretty cool parents who have always supported me and let me live my own life regardless of disability.
Disability Should Not Define You
I knew I had to do this, if not for me, then at least for my roomie, Di, who had passed away not too long ago. Her life had been defined by her disability, and what people thought she could achieve. She never had the opportunity given to her to become something else, someone other than her disability let her be.
When she died, her dick of a brother refused to give her a funeral. None of her roomies or her carers were given the chance to have closure. It was almost as if she never existed (except in our memories). I was going to live twice as hard for us both. Disability should not define anyone’s life as it did for Di.
The Art of Improvisation
When we got into the room, we made small talk for a while and I tried to make light of the whole situation. I’d spoken to him a couple of times on the phone before so it didn’t feel as awkward as I thought it would.
It didn’t take long for him to get all serious with me about the logistics of getting on the bed. He asked me how it would work, I told him we would just improvise and go with it.
It was all very straightforward, driven by his curiosity. I got my clothes off with his help and then I got into bed and let him examine me for what felt like ages. I was so nervous. I remember at one point he even said to me, “You look pretty fit for a girl like you,” which really pissed me off, but I tried not to show it, which is very unlike me I might add.
I found most of it pretty painful, like most girls when they have sex for the first time, but still wouldn’t change it for anything. At the time I needed to rebel against everything that was being forced down my throat and this was my way of doing it.
I have never felt more free from discrimination than when I casually lost my virginity to this guy from Tinder. It was almost like proof to me that disability isn’t as big an obstacle as it’s made out to be.
We don’t have to live according to society’s stereotypes. No one should be forced to live a certain way, able-bodied or disabled. I know now more than ever that my life is defined by me and no one else. Everyone else can get fucked!