When I was in my teens I made my first gynocologist appointment because I had a serious boyfriend and wanted to go on the pill. Since I came from a strict family I was too afraid to tell my mother or ask her advice on what local doctor I should see. I was young and scared so I decided I wanted to see a female doctor and found one online. I told nobody about my appointment and went to this doctor myself. She seemed friendly and knew right away by my nervous composure I had never had a internal vaginal exam. I remember she tried to tell me the exam was “No big deal, ” with a smile. I remember putting my legs in the stirrups and feeling very uncomfortable. She inserted her finger and then some kind of metal object into my vagina. It felt extremely painful and even though it was my first vaginal exam my I thought to myself that something about this exam was just not right. After what seemed like forever the exam was finally over. The doctor had this weird look on her face as she told me to get dressed. When I got off the table and stood up I doubled over in extreme pain. I thought to myself the vaginal pain was probably normal since it was my first exam. I drove home with my prescription for the pill and couldn’t stop my gut instict telling me I was sexually violated. A few weeks later I was having lunch with a friend of mine who told me over lunch about her recent visit to her gynocologist. Her story was almost exactly identical to my experience. I then asked her the name of her doctor and was sick to my stomach when I found out she saw the same female gynocologist I saw. My friend and I were both sexually abused by the same woman. We went together and filed police reports and we were told that they would look into the matter but informed us most likely nothing could be done about the compliants because we had no physical evidence she had sexually violated us. A few weeks passed and my friend told me that her father, who happened to be a cardiologist, looked into the matter after she decided to tell him about the still very traumatic experience. He found out at least twenty other young women also filed reports with local police that they were sexually violated by this doctor. We all had one thing he noticed in common, it was all our first experience being vaginally examed, and that was very disturbing the fact just how many others like ourselves were also victims of a sexual crime and never knew it! He then filed a formal complaint the state medical board. After a formal long investigation, the woman gynocologist who sexually abused so many young women had her medical license revoked. Over twenty years later I told my 17 year old daughter, who I suspected is sexually active, that when she is ready to see a gynocologist for the first time I would make all the arrangements and go with her. She smiled and replied “Of couse I will mommy I tell you everything.” The point I am trying to make is maybe my still sexually traumatic experience could have been avoided if I had the type of mother I could have confided in about my sexual issues. If you have daughters my advice is tell them never to be afraid to confide in you about anything. I can’t change what happened to me but I can make sure my two teenage daughters never have to go through what I did.
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Once upon a time I when I was a undergraduate I met a guy who was a few years older than me that was different from the usual guys who picked me up. He was cocky bold and had very confident.
He told me he was from the South Shore of Long Island and I instantly told him that I was from the North Shore and I don’t date anyone from the “other” shore. I was trying to show him I was just as self confident as he came across.
Well I broke my own rule and went out with this guy because he was different and oddly too sure of himself.
The chemistry was electricfying and after one kiss I was falling in love. I knew he felt the same way because we couldn’t stay away from eachother. He would meet me after my night classes and we would end up having a few drinks in a local bar and makeout in public not caring if anyone was watching us. We were in our own little world.
It seemed like a fairytale. He often told me he remembered the exact outfit I was wearing , which was tight brown leather pants, the first time he saw me in the library. No other guy I ever went out with before him ever mentioned such details about myself. I was flattered and impressed.
Something about him however made me a little uncomfortable. I seemed to tell him almost everything about myself yet he was guarded and a little too mysterious whenever I asked him certain things about his life.
Then the bombshell fell, a friend of mine from the same town as him told me he saw in a local newspaper his engagement announcement .
I thought a thousand knives stabbed me in the chest when I found out how I was used and deceived.
I was suddenly I was the “other woman” and emotionally crushed. I wanted revenge and nothing would stop me………. To be continued
It’s always nice to be called beautiful from a friend or family member. It’s a ego booster because most of us especially in our late teens and twenties has a thing or two about their image they see in the mirror.
Most young women fixate on any tiny flaw they think they have. My daughter who is fourteen complains her hair is not long enough and an occassional zit will never go away. She thinks a little baby fat is ruining her life. My daughter who at age 14 can apply makeup like a professional makeup artist and can straighten her hair so perfectly , thanks to watching beauty video bloggers on YouTube , thinks like most teens that being beautiful on the outside is all people notice. She will learn this lesson just the way I did.
I started to obsess on being beautiful when I got my first job in a posh North Shore Boutique. The lady who interviewed me immediately noticed my outgoing personality and hired me on the spot. The new boutique opened a few weeks later and I was a size 8 and felt obese because everyone else was a size 2 or 4. To make matters worse I had to wear the store’s clothing and barely nothing fit me. When I was working I also had to stare at my myself all day because the store’s walls were completely covered in mirrors. My confidence was at a all time low.
A few weeks later my boyfriend who just transferred to Syracuse University sent me a letter telling me we should see other people. Of course I thought he wanted to breakup with me because I was not as beautiful as the girls on his campus. Thats when I took matters into my own hands and lost 30lbs just in a few months.
Suddenly, I was getting attention and was being called “beautiful” by my co-workers and even complete strangers. It was a “high” I never experienced.
My boyfriend came home that Thankgiving and noticed immediately how much I changed. He asked me to go with him to a club to meet his Fraternity friends who I heard from a girlfriend were a bunch of spoiled popular assholes . My boyfriend obviously wanted to suddenly show off his till now invisible girlfriend.
The next night as soon as I entered the small popular hangout in the north shore town of Roslyn, I started getting looks from most of the guys. My boyfriend was so proud to introduce me to his Frat brothers who made comments to him like how did get such a hot girl like me.
My boyfriend was elated as we left the club and as we walked to the car he said to me “All my friends thought you are so beautiful and so do I.” Then he added as he was about to open the car door he said “I love you.”
He never uttered those three little words to me before. In fact , it was the first time any guy told me that he loved me. I suddenly felt my heart sink and held back my tears. It was at that moment I realized being called beautiful doesn’t mean anything if it comes from someone you don’t love. I broke up with him a week later.
I grew up that night and realized being called beautiful by somebody that loves me for who I am inside and out is the only person I will believe.
And a short while later I found “that” guy .
Don’t pretend to be the perfect woman for any man. Eventually, the truth always comes out. I told my husband on our second date that lobster, shrimp and cheeseburgers are my favorite foods. That doesn’t sound like any big deal accept for the fact he only ate kosher food. i told him if he wanted to continue dating me he would have to accept my non-kosher diet. Funny, twenty two years later he never once commented or tried to make me give up my favorite foods. Our freezer is mixed with kosher meat and non-kosher “White Castle” frozen hamburgers.
Don’t change what you love for any man. If he really loves you he will accept everything about you!
It isn’t easy for a princess to find her “knight in shining armor!”
Beware! Looks can be deceiving!!!!
In my previous post I mentioned at the age of 18 I met Jeff at a party and he became my first ” serious” boyfriend. Okay I have to admit here he wasn’t my first lover. I lost my virginity the previous summer while staying in the Hampton’s with somebody I barely knew except he was cute and had a red corvette. He didn’t even know I was a virgin we were both too drunk. Looking back i was embarrassed to admit to my “cool” friends I was still a virgin.
Do I regret that night? Not really, except I cringe till this day whenever I here the song by Prince, “Little Red Corvette.”
When Jeff and I made love for the first time in the bedroom of his North Shore Jericho house I was not drunk and it felt like my very first time.
I always felt like a little slut whenever we went back to his house and bumped into his divorced single mom who usually was entertaining another lady I noticed as we ignored them and went upstairs. It became obvious Jeff was going through a lot of pain that he hid from most of the world and always “seemed” happy and
carefree. In other words he was just like me in many ways. How ironic?
Jeff was still had severe unresolved issues when his father. a Coca-Cola executive suddenly left his family almost penniless when he ran off with his secretary a fews years prior.
His mom worked full time at Ace Hardware as a store manager in order to support Jeff and his older sister, Jen, who he was really close too.
It was the 1980’s so we didn’t even talk about the fact his mom became a lesbian. It was clear to me this subject was taboo to Jeff.
Jeff was a body builder with the hugest biceps I ever saw . a talented swimmer and diver who had so trophies that decorated his small bedroom. Jeff like me was working as a lifeguard the summer that we met.
Jeff loved to come over my house and got along so well with my parents and family. He used to joke to my father that if he married me could he work for him in his very prosperous corrugated box and shipping supply company. I felt great that summer spending so much time with Jeff and I knew we were meant to meet for a reason….
Growing up I had a few minor hook-ups mostly when I had a little too much too drink at a club or a party. I basically spent most of my teenage years observing and listening to my popular girlfriends telling me every intimate detail about their boyfriends.
I learned to be a good listener and even offered my advice if they asked me. I wasn’t ever bitter or jealous of my friends who had boyfriends because I knew I my time would come when boys would start to notice me.
The summer before I started college I worked in a camp as a life guard during the day and at night went to many parties where teens from many local north shore camps would meet up in a local club. One night I went with my close friend “Karen” to a small club that somehow survived the post disco era. My friend karen ,who like me had never had a “real” boyfriend , spotted this hunky dark haired guy who really wasn’t my type. She must of caught his attention because he was walking towards us and karen got all excited. OMG she whispered, ” he is so hot and I think he is going to ask me to dance.”
Then he approached us and introduced himself to us. His name was Jeff and he was from Jericho. Then he asked us our names and I let Karen do all the talking. Then the strangest thing happened, Jeff asked me to dance and not Karen. She gave me a nasty look but for the first time in my life I put myself first and spent the rest of the night feeling like a princess at her first ball.
Karen however made quite a few nasty comments about Jeff on the drive home. “He’s never going to call you any way” she said.
That’s was the moment I finally stood up for myself and replied, “It’s not my fault he was more attracted to me than you!”
The next day Jeff came over my house to go swimming in my pool. I answered the door confidently in a white bikini. “WOW! was Jeff’s response.
After years of feeling like a ugly duckling I finally became a swan.
That’s photo is me when I decided to go blonde. Thats when my life drastically changed forever. Before 18 I had medium mousey brown hair and really never stood out in a crowded dark NYC club. I used to envy the girls with blonde hair who seemed to be noticed always before me by the really cute guys every time I went out on the town. Even my best friend at the time was a gorgeous blonde named Lisa, whose boyfriends in H.S included the captain of the football team and “Richie” who was so hot I sweated everyday when he played the drums in the percussion section right behind me when I played the violin in H.S orchestra.
I just assumed with my teenage naive rational thinking that blondes like the cliche, “Really do have more fun.”
Right after I started college I lost 20 pounds of baby fat, started to exercise like crazy, landed my first job in a very obnoxious boutique and dyed my hair blonde.
Oh yeah and landed my first serious “hot” boyfriend.
I have been in relationships good and bad. I’ve been engaged 4 times and married twice. I also made my share of bad choices in choosing toxic men that
took pieces of me I can never get back.
I had my heart broken twice in my life and one of these heartbreaks nearly ruined my life.
Everyone is looking for their “happy ever after” but not everyone is meant to find Mr. Right.
Friends of mine look for love in all the wrong places, for example, online dating sites and social media.
Lucky for me cell phones and the internet were not even invented when I met both my husbands. I met my first husband at the tender age of 23 on a Tuesday night at NYC club called the Palladium. This very tall dark handsome guy locked eyes on me when I first entered the club and 15 minutes later he was standing right behind me at the bar and overheard this guy say he was paying for a drink I just ordered. I didn’t bother even turning around to thank him when I saw a 100 dollar bill pass right over my head. I remember muttering the word “Asshole” to myself.
Okay, I was a thinking already all i need is another cocky egotistical guy to waste my time.
He noticed I was ignoring him so I thanked him for buying me the drink and turned around to face him. He was even better close up and I remember thinking why he decided to pick me out of a crowd of hundreds of pretty girls.
He was tall, real tall like about 6″4 or so. He was also a bit older than me. He had charm and seemed ” cool”, so I decided to hang out and party with him the rest of the night.
Though I fought my best not to like him I let him into my crazy life that fateful night. He worked for a big Brokerage firm and lived in Brooklyn in his own apartment.
That was far away from my North Shore, Long Island home. I was still living with my parents.
I was also at the time involved in a three year relationship with a religious Jewish guy who just graduated Podiatry School and was also still involved with a guy who I still believe was my soul mate who I met my Junior year at Hofstra University.
I kept that info all a secret from this new cute mysterious mature guy.
Something about him was getting my attention and by the end of the night I barely knew anything about him besides his first name.
He took my number and I was thinking ” he is not going to call me, and walked me to the club entrance where I found my older sister, Fran, who obviously had one drink too many. She was “sloppy drunk” and I was like please don’t embarrass me in front of this cute guy.
Too late, she was in her dangerously drunk state and blurt out to Ron, ” I see you met my bleached blonde little sister.” Totally mortified thinking this guy is so not going to call me, I tried to hold up my sister and make a quick exit. Then when I thought things couldn’t get worse my sloppy drunk sister tripped and Ron grabbed her arm before she fell.
My sister looked up at Ron and said . “My sister, that would be me, always gets the cute guys and it isn’t fair.”
I was feeling like just let me get out of here and knew this new mysterious tall guy would run in other direction after he met my sister but to my surprise he helped me get my car from a nearby garage and practically hold my sister up as she could barely walk.
I made it home from NYC to Long Island in 20 minutes that night. I managed to get my very drunk sister to our house and up stairs without my parents waking up.
I wrote Ron off figuring he would never call me but two days later he called me at work and asked me out. Could this guy I wondered be my “happy ever after?”
To be continued…..