Either approach seemed like a betrayal of self at a time when I didn’t have much self to spare. I said no to sex because it was something I could still say no to, because how I felt was so new and complex, I needed to figure it out. I knew that if I didn’t, I would start layering obfuscations over it until I couldn’t go back. So I claimed my body for myself whenever I could. I guarded against all intruders, even if the intruder was the man I lived with, a man who loved me in all my complexity. I was all he wanted, he told me. And I just couldn’t give myself to him.
