regret

regret is a huge part in my life.

I've done a lot of things that I am so incredibly ashamed of. I'm scared to tell anyone about it. The fear of judgement gets to me. I think that I always forget to think things through before doing them. Take my sexual life, for instance. I lost my virginity to someone that I didn't love.

someone that I didn't love

how could I? I lost all my morals and lost it to someone who I barely knew- who I currently barely know. Coming to college, I got so caught up in the freedom of it all that I began to go crazy. Drink/party/rage/make bad decisions, sleep, wake up, eat, repeat. Where was the studying? Where was the time for God?

I don't even have an answer for that.

If I have one thing to tell my kids, it's to not live their college years the way I treated my freshman year. I think that I was raised in a very strict family who explicitly told me what to do and I didn't like that. I began to resent my own parents and do things that they specifically didn't want me to do. I resented my own faith, I put my personal life in front of others, I began to go out and drink, I majored in communication (yeah I don't understand that one, either), I never came home to visit my parents... so naturally, when I got to leave home, I didn't have any rules. I didn't have anybody to keep me accountable. I didn't have to do what anyone else said other than myself. I went wild. I drank like I breathed alcohol instead of oxygen. I flirted with every guy that was remotely attractive. I pushed my faith away. I pushed my friends away. I was wrong. I was so incredibly wrong.

And on one October night, I let my judgement escape me completely. I don't know if it was that I simply didn't think or if I ignored my subconscious completely. Looking back on it now, I am still questioning my every move.

Now I thought the guy was the most attractive boy out there. He had a beautiful smile with straight, white teeth. He had this aroma and pulled me in a little closer every time we talked. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me in closer every second. Me being the prissy bitch I was, I played games. It was no question that I found him attractive and that he found me in the same state, but I let him get close and would run off and allowed him to watch me flirt with other guys. I know... what a ridiculous way to get a guy to fall for you. Imagine my surprise when I realized it worked. Flirted with almost every guy there, kissed another guy during a jenga game, then came back to talk to the guy once again. Smirking, I told him a guy kissed me in the jenga game. What a thrill it was to toy with someone's attractions like that. But he leaned down, caressed my face, pulled me close to him, and kissed me.

and starting at that moment, I don't know what my thought processes were. I remember moving into a bedroom, making out, then moving into another one. I remember having sex and wondering what on earth I was doing... but I didn't stop it. I remember putting our clothes back on, shoving the used condom in his pocket and sitting and talking.

at that time I didn't think much of it. I knew it wasn't what the old me would have done. I knew it wasn't a good idea. I also knew that I wasn't telling anyone about it. Ever. I remember going to church the next morning feeling half disgusted half proud. Proud. Who was I? My best friend asked me how my night was and I responded saying it was good, keeping the main event to myself. I told the guy that he couldn't tell anyone, either. And he didn't. It was great. It was a weird bond that he and I shared. I don't know how to describe it. I got excited every time I saw him but not in the sense of butterflies in my stomach... more like a desire to do it again. And it did happen again. And again. As time went on, people found out that we were friends with benefits.

But my best friend was NEVER to know. Why not? regret. shame. fear of judgement.
it stayed that way for months. More and more people found out but my best friend never did. I knew she didn't like him. She didn't think he was attractive. She didn't approve. She never would.

I waited ten months to tell her.
Ten.
I didn't even have the balls to tell her in person. I called her and told her it was important. I had so much regret built up inside me that I couldn't do it. I broke into tears and begged her not to be mad at me but I think that this just made it worse. It was embarrassment. It was me admitting my own defeat. It was me saying "I'm wrong." And to be honest, I am a prideful person. I don't like being wrong. I don't like being the inferior person.

Now when I think about it, I am appalled at my thoughts. Not sure which one is a bigger regret, the deed itself or not telling my best friend. I'm too scared to face my own mistakes. I'd like to think that I am a pretty religious person. Obviously last year, I wasn't much of a jesus follower... but even though I have now reprioritized my life, I can't come to confess my own sin to Jesus.

There is too much shame. Too much regret. Too much fear of judgement. The bible says that you are saved by God if you confess with your mouth and believe that Jesus came to wash away our sins. I don't feel worthy. I still feel guilt. I am still embarrassed.