I never had any desire to try anal, but I wanted to please a boyfriend and I figured I should go for it at least once just so I’d know for sure how I feel about it. That was a big mistake and I’ll never do it again.
I wanted to be open but it seriously sucked.
He kept pushing for it, which led to a big fight. Ultimately, I wanted to make him happy and I didn’t want to knock it until I’d tried it. I’d never had an interest in anal, but why not? Then I actually tried it and it was just as awful and weird as I thought it would be.
I felt violated even though I agreed.
It was terrible. I should never have been in a situation where I felt obligated, especially with someone who supposedly loved me. I immediately regretted the decision but I went with it because I didn’t want to start another fight. It’s sad but true.
I got absolutely no pleasure from it.
I’ve heard girls say they liked it, but I definitely didn’t feel that way. It was uncomfortable and weird and it grossed me out. I don’t know why a guy wants to put his junk into a hole that’s strictly supposed to be an exit for waste. I think it’s nasty.
I was so uncomfortable that my body went into shock.
I felt cold and clammy and everything in me clenched up. I got chills and goosebumps down my entire body, and not in a good way. It was like every part of me knew that this was not something I wanted and reacted accordingly.
I was hurt that my partner didn’t care how I felt.
He made one lame attempt to ask if I was OK, but he should’ve known from my body language and lack of enthusiasm that I wasn’t. He was so wrapped up in how he felt that he basically ignored how I was reacting, and that’s really crappy.
I should’ve been vocal and stood up for myself.
If I could go back, I would stop everything the moment that I realized I really didn’t want to be having anal. I’ll never let myself be pressured into sexual activities I don’t enjoy again. It’s not worth the aftermath.
I was in actual pain.
Not only did it not give me pleasure, it was physically painful. My partner was very well-endowed and not as gentle or considerate as he should’ve been. Even when he went slow, it was awful. I had to literally grit my teeth to get through it. That’s not sexy.
I felt like I’d betrayed myself.
Not only did I resent my partner for putting me through that, I was angry with myself. I knew I didn’t want it, so why did I give in? Why did I keep dating someone who pressured me? Why didn’t I stop him once I realized how much I hated it?
I wanted it to feel sexy but it just felt gross.
I thought, well, it’s kind of forbidden and taboo, so that could be sexy. Wrong. I’m not that girl. No matter what I did to try and justify it to myself or brush it off as trivial, I couldn’t make myself believe the lie.
I resented my partner afterward.
I never forgave him for not caring enough to notice that I felt traumatized. He was so thrilled that I finally agreed to do it that he forgot to pay attention to whether or not I was OK. Later I realized he was always callous when it came to sex.
I felt powerless and invisible when it was happening.
It was like I wasn’t even there; I became this sex object to him. He was always really sexual anyway, and when he got what he wanted, it was like he was high on power. I felt like I disappeared as a person and became some thing instead.
I don’t judge anyone, but it’s definitely not for me.
I’ll honestly never try it again. I know for sure that I don’t enjoy it, and if that’s a deal breaker then the guy in question isn’t right for me. No one who loves me would ask me to do something that makes me feel defiled.
I hate when guys ask for it.
I get resentful because it takes me back to those bad memories. I know that no one else knows I went through that, but I still hate every guy for asking. I’m very firm. It’s never going to happen. If they ask more than once, we’re done.
I had all the wrong motivations and I wasn’t protecting myself.
I wanted to alleviate any further fighting by giving him what he wanted in bed, but I did so at the expense of my own emotions. I was so used to giving myself away that I didn’t know how to take care of me, but now I do. No more anal, ever. End of story.
I know my limits now and I know how to say no.
I was younger and less confident then. Stuck in a dysfunctional relationship, I let things get way out of hand. Now I would never get into such a bad situation and I would definitely never do anything I didn’t want to do sexually.
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