The subject of this dirty little secret is something that is somewhat "dirty", not little, and of a quite personal nature.

This is the story of how I lost my virginity and the sexual experiences that shaped the relationships and lifestyle I have today.

It's been five years to the day since I lost my virginity to a man nine years my senior.
He and his girlfriend of three years had recently parted ways, and I was coming out of a rough few months involving family death, leaving high school, and learning to make my own way in the world; we turned to each other for comfort, and one thing led to another. I didn't love him, but he was my friend and he treated me well during the few months we were seeing each other.
In September, his ex-girlfriend came back into his life. As soon as she moved back to Alaska, he told me how he felt, and asked me what I thought. Over the previous few months I'd heard a lot of stories about her and her children, how wonderful their life had been together, and how much he missed the kids he'd practically adopted. There was no question in my mind about what I had to do - I looked him square in the eye and told him not to think twice about going back to her. I told him with complete honesty that I'd be fine and I let him go with grace and my best wishes.

I don't regret it, any of it. It isn't a fairy-tale story, but it isn't a bad story, either.

For the next year after that, I went through a very promiscuous time period that I refer to as my libertine phase, which began because I wanted to experiment and have fun and ended because I didn't feel good about what I was doing any longer.
To be perfectly honest, I do regret some of the decisions I made during that time-period, but I don't dwell on it much. I had some good times, I had some bad times, and I'm content to leave it at that. I'm in a completely different place in my life now, and I don't care to burden myself with agonizing over the past.

I've tried the whole love/sex/relationships thing in a few different ways, and after those experiences, I came to the same conclusions I'd had when I was a dreamy-eyed twelve year old with a head full of idealistic romance and fluff.
I am, at core, a monogamous being, and having sex with someone I don't care about or love isn't right for me. I've always known that sex can be a wonderful, amazing, fun, silly, intense, intimate, sensual, beautiful thing, but I didn't fully understand just how incredible it could be until I had the chance to share it with a longtime, monogamous lover.

Monogamous lifestyles don't work for everyone, though, and I respect the decisions and life choices of people who have chosen to walk a different path from my own. Having been involved in both conventional and nonconventional lifestyles, I understand the rationale behind both sides, and I understand the sort of pain that can result from being harshly judged and mistreated as a result of non-conventional relationships and behavior. The phrase, "to each, their own" rings particularly true when it comes to aspects of life as deeply personal as sex, love, and relationships. What you do behind closed doors, who you choose to love, and how you choose to love them is nobody's damn business but your own.

Monogamous, polyamorous, celibate, libertine, virgin, heterosexual, bisexual, homosexual, asexual, pansexual, kinky, vanilla, dominant, submissive; whatever your choices are, the Wiccans put it best - "and it harm none, do what you will."