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Publication: The Daily Aztec, , San Diego State University, San Diego, CA
I threw up shortly after a boy asked me out when I was 15.
He decided to do this in front of all our friends, so naturally, I felt compelled to say yes. As the hollers and excited cheers roared in my ears, I promptly walked away and found the nearest bathroom to vomit in.
I did not go on that date.
At 17 years old, I made the mistake of telling a guy, very politely, that I wasn’t interested in being anyone’s girlfriend. He called to scream that I was a whore who wanted an excuse to have sex with everyone.
I cried myself to sleep that night.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. It didn’t help that every family gathering turned into an interrogation about whether or not I had a boyfriend. How was I going to explain that there were always guys around, but the mere thought of harboring romantic feelings toward them didn’t make any sense to me?
All I knew was I had a difficult time separating platonic love and romantic love because...