At the young age of 16 , I was fresh out of high school and still living with my parents. I spent most afternoons alone in my room, reading or scrolling on my phone. That was when it started — the thoughts I couldn’t push away.
It began with innocent videos and stories online. Men praising women. Telling them how beautiful their bodies were, how perfect their curves looked, how good they felt. Every time I read those words or heard that deep voice saying “good girl,” a warm, throbbing ache would bloom between my thighs. I tried to suppress it. I really did. I’d squeeze my legs together, bite my lip, and tell myself good girls didn’t think about things like that.
But it only got worse.
People started noticing. My cheeks would flush when a man complimented me. I’d bite my lower lip and pr
