I just. I have a long history of fucked up relationships with women, both platonic and otherwise.

Maybe it's because I don't spend time with basically any men, but while I know they're trash intuitively , I just, I guess I haven't internalized it as much.

I don't remember much of anything up to the age of 14, so there's a good start.

Then at 14, my first solid memories are of dating a woman 4 years my senior (18), out of desperation for positive emotional attention. Thankfully no sex happened.

Flash forward a few years, I dated a girl my age whose mother treated me like I was a potential rapist. Didn't last long.

Another year or so, I'm 17 and coming out to myself, and in college, I date a 23 year old woman for a week and she lies to me about damn near everything about her. Doesn't last long.

Then at 19.

I'm 19, I'm out, I'm trans, and I meet Laura. Laura's 23. We meet in a social anxiety therapy group (RED FLASHING LIGHTS). She is incredibly well read, well lived and very interesting. I am... 19. And so emotionally wilting that I spend most of my time in the group watching everyone else talk.

She befriends me quickly.

Within a week or two, we are fast friends. Around this time, she tells me that, to her, a sexual relationship is the purest, highest form of friendship. She complains about how a pair of her other friends declined and they haven't been talking much since (RED FLASHING LIGHTS).

Our first sexual encounter takes place that night.

I say I'm not sure I want to do this. She looms over me, "Do you trust me?"

"I don't know."

Repeat it a few times. I relent.

I assume she feels good. I don't. But I'm happy for the attention.

Over time she gets it in her mind that I should move into her apartment, so she single handedly kicks out her other roommate. I'm happy to have a friend.

She has a boyfriend. She insists she's poly. I'm still happy to have a friend. She talks about maybe having a threesome with him. I happily agree, thanking God it never happens.