Who first introduced you to intimacy? What is the number one lesson he/she taught you about yourself? Whether the memory is tender and gentle or of heartbreak, there’s a lesson that we can all learn from our first. And as Cameron reveals, sometimes that person isn’t our actual first, but our unforgettable second.

When I think about what it was like for me to first lose my virginity there’s only one answer: it was absolutely horrible. It was with this guy named Joe. He was a mutual friend of two friends who were seniors in high school. They asked why I didn’t have a boyfriend yet, especially since I went to an all boys school. So, they decided to hook me up with Joe.

He was three years older and not that cute, but he was attracted to me. Since he liked me, I thought we should be together. The first time we had sex, it was so painful. I didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into. I didn’t know why I was doing it. I don’t even know at what point I decided I was a bottom, it just happened.

There was no intimacy whatsoever. We kissed but it didn’t mean anything. I did a lot of things with him just because I thought that’s what you were supposed to do. To this day, when people ask about my first, I completely write him out. Instead, I talk about my second, who had a powerful impact on how I viewed relationships earlier in life and  taught me a lot about myself.

He was a boy from Mississippi. It was me and five other friends, and we were going down the hill to our bus stops. In front of us he stood, a six foot, light-skinned boy with locs down to his chin. We were all like, “oh my god, who is that?” He stopped at one of the bus stops, and that’s where we split off. We made a pact to get his number. We thought he was a grown man, but it turned out that he went to the performing arts high school.

He ended up coming to a basketball game at my school, which is where he met one of my best friends. They hooked up maybe once. And my best friend was like, “Next! Bye.” That summer, we were in the mall and the guy called my best friend. He looked and then gave the phone to me, so I spoke to him. He was so smooth. He asked me to give him my number, so I did. We ended up talking, went out to the same mall, and then took the bus back to my house.

While on the bus, we were kissing hot and heavy, even for some teenagers. When we got to my house and I got a glimpse of his manhood, I ran into my room because I was scared and nervous. When he found me, his pants were down and it was swinging. I glanced around, mustered up some courage, and then we did it. It was the best I’d ever had. After that, we decided to become boyfriends, but there was a catch: he already had a girlfriend and a boyfriend at his school.

When we had sex, it was the best I’d ever had. After that, we decided to become boyfriends, but the catch was that he had a girlfriend and a boyfriend at his school.

As it turned out, he was the hoe of that arts high school–everyone at the surrounding high schools knew this–but people failed to tell me before we got into a relationship. I felt like I had the prize and that he would stay with me. In my mind, I wasn’t going anywhere; he was my man, period. I just knew that I was going to hook him, reel him in, and that we would become high school sweethearts. Unfortunately, that did not happen.

He had his girlfriend. But he and his boyfriend broke up because he was cheating—and not with me, but with other people. When I found out, I said, “I’m leaving.” We were apart for probably a month, before he managed to beg his way back, using his charm.

I told him that he needed to promise me he wasn’t going to cheat on me. And he promised he wouldn’t. But it happened again. This time, I found out from somebody different. The same scenario happened all over again. I left, he begged, and I took him back. The final straw that broke the camel’s back was that the person who told me he’d been cheating when it happened the second time was one of the people he’d been cheating with.

That person was one of the two people who hooked me up with Joe—someone I considered a very good friend. So, to find out he was the one sleeping with my boyfriend and had been doing so for a while was heartbreaking. And that’s when I realized the six-foot, light-skinned boy with locs down to his chin had managed to wrap all of us around his finger; his sex was breaking up friendships left and right.

Why? Because he made us feel like we were the only ones, even if it was temporary. And that was more than enough for all of us, it seemed. That’s where I believe my need for feeling wanted started. It was so easy to take him back each time because I wanted him—I needed to be wanted by him.

I think the reason I felt like I needed him was because he was the first person to introduce me to intimacy, which was more than just the physical idea of sex, the penetration, anything oral; it was the metaphysical, emotional, and even spiritual connection with another person, down to his heart. Because of him, I learned that intimacy could be a single touch, caress, or a kiss. It could be that moment when you can almost feel what the other person is thinking, feeling. It’s close, sensual, deep. No, the relationship didn’t work out–it obviously wasn’t meant to be. But I’m glad I got to experience that and learn so much about myself.

I realized he’d managed to wrap all of us around his finger; his sex was breaking up friendships left and right. Why? Because he made us feel like we were the only ones, even if it was temporary.