I never, ever, thought sending nudes was a big deal. I had done it before and nothing bad had happened. Oh, how wrong I was.
My friend, lets call him Carl, had previously told me that he had feelings for one of my good friends. She had just gone through a breakup so I started talking to him more to try to set them up. After a school break, I sent one of my good girl friends a photo of a sunburn on my boob when I was getting out of the shower. Or so I thought. I sent the photo, without even thinking about it, and threw my phone on the bed while I changed clothes. A few minutes later, I looked at my phone and saw texts and snapchats from Carl. I didn’t think anything of it because I had no idea what I had done. I opened the text: “Nice snapchat.”
I literally screamed at the top of my lungs when I realized what I had done. I wasn’t truly mad at myself… who doesn’t like getting validation from a guy? As shitty as that is. After that, we started talking more and our relationship escalated to something completely unexpected. He would continuously tell me that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about us or he’d cut everything off. Again, I didn’t really care because I wasn’t about to tell the whole student body who I was sending nudes to.
We talked and sent photos for a few weeks, then one night out of the blue, he told me “I can’t do this anymore.” He was paranoid that people were going to find out, I was so mad. I think I was mostly angry because I felt like I had done something wrong. I kept thinking that I was the problem, I was just too ugly, too fat, or too gross for any guy to ever like me. It sucked because he had told me all these things he wanted us to do together and then it had gone to complete shit. We ended up getting in a huge fight, mostly because I was being petty, but deep down I was heartbroken.
Fast forward a few weeks, and I had just landed from a trip to see I had received a text from him. I didn’t want to open it for a bit because I was secretly hoping it would say one thing, but also dreading it would say something else. Unexpectedly, he asked me if I wanted to be “friends with benefits.” I said “yeah, why not,” because I wasn’t thinking, being my stupid self. Needless to say, history repeated itself again, but this time, when he ended it, he blamed me for everything.
The whole time we were talking, he was pressuring me to send him things I didn’t want to send and to do things I wasn’t comfortable with, but suddenly it was all my fault and he didn’t want anything to do with me. I was so hurt, and honestly fucked up by the whole thing. I confided in an adult, which, little did I know, would be the biggest mistake of my whole life. I asked her not to tell anyone because of her husband’s role at my school. After this confession, I was sitting in my math class when an administrator called me into the office.
My worst nightmare was coming true, my world was crumbling around me. As I walked from class to the office, I passed the husband of the adult I confided in. My life was moving in slow motion. I kept thinking to myself no way is this happening, she wouldn’t do that, there’s no way. Where the fuck is Carl? Wouldn’t they call him in too?. I walked into the office and was ushered into my counselor’s office. There sat the husband of the adult I’d confided in. The administrator who had pulled me out of class, got out his phone and I started talking to my actual counselor.
They kept asking me what had happened and if I was safe. They wanted me to provide screenshots and tell them, start to end, the whole thing. How was I supposed to explain to the admin that I had been sending nudes? I was so embarrassed, primarily for Carl. I couldn’t think of a worse possible outcome of this situation. They asked me so many personal and intrusive questions; I’ve never felt more uncomfortable in my own skin. I started bawling my eyes out and just wanted to leave. I wanted everything to be normal and for no one to know what had been going on. I hadn’t even told my best friends because he asked me to keep it a secret. Nothing ever was resolved, and I rarely saw him around school, but I feared each time I turned a corner he would be there. To this day, I don’t remember the last words I spoke to him, and I hate the way he made me feel. He made me a person I didn’t want to be.