Somewhere Between Heartbreak and Twerking

While my ex-boyfriend was fucking other girls, I was fucking myself—metaphorically and physically.

I genuinely thought I was being a good, loyal girlfriend by buying my first vibrator from Walmart to fulfill the needs I wasn’t getting from him while he was miles away. Meanwhile, apparently Tinder was fulfilling his.

But somewhere between the betrayal and my little purple “10-speed,” I discovered something way more important than him: myself.

As insane as this sounds, my first orgasm was life-changing. Dramatic? Maybe. True? Absolutely. Because in that moment, it was game over for these men.

Not in a “I hate men” way. Relax. But in a way where I realized I don’t need a man financially, emotionally, or sexually. If I have a man in my life now, it’s because I genuinely want him there—not because I need him to complete me.

Discovering my body unlocked a level of confidence and empowerment within myself that I didn’t even realize I was missing. And honestly, hearing so many girls my age say they don’t feel comfortable in their own bodies makes me sad for them. So many women are stuck in their heads during sex thinking:

“What if he doesn’t like this?”

“What if I look weird?”

“What if I make a weird face?”

Meanwhile, men are just happy to be invited to the function.

I don’t think enough women realize this: most men are not analyzing your body the way you are. They are not staring at the random pimple on your chin or critiquing the angle of your thigh. Most of the insecurity exists entirely in our own heads.

And somewhere along the way, women started performing sex instead of actually experiencing it.

That’s why hosting the RIDE workshop at my house felt so unexpectedly empowering.

I thought every girl secretly practiced twerking alone in their room. Apparently…they don’t. When half the room admitted they never did, I literally gasped. I didn’t realize how many women genuinely struggle with confidence in movement and sensuality. Like GIRL, you never know when Love Island is going to slide into your DMs telling you to pack your passport for The Villa.

Even if you aren’t twerking in your room ladies. . .just start dancing freely. You will feel sexy, free, and uplifted.

But honestly, confidence starts with getting comfortable being uncomfortable in your own skin.

At first, there was nervous laughter, awkwardness, hesitation. Then the music got louder. Buckcherry’s Crazy Bitch came on and instantly my roommate and I looked at each other like: oh, this is our moment.

Suddenly six girls in my living room weren’t worrying about looking hot or doing everything perfectly. We were just moving. Laughing. Sweating. Existing in our bodies without apologizing for it.

And hearing women talk about being nervous to be on top during sex genuinely made me sad. Why are we so worried about how we look to men during moments that are supposed to feel good for us too?

Being on top shouldn’t feel embarrassing. It shouldn’t feel performative. It should feel fun, confident, powerful—even if you’re still figuring it out.

That’s what I think this workshop really was about underneath all the joking, music, and twerking.

Not sex.

Not men.

Not performance.

But women reconnecting with themselves.

The guided meditation oddly hit an emotional chord for me. Maybe because underneath all the masking, joking, and twerking, I realized how disconnected so many women are from themselves.

I also cannot sit still for the life of me and usually struggle listening to people for long periods of time. But her voice was soothing. She had a way of articulating her words that made you actually want to listen.

This night will forever stay with me.

Not because six girls learned how to move their hips almost as good as Shakira. Not because we screamed Buckcherry lyrics in my living room. But because, for a few hours, a room full of women were able to enjoy being in their bodies without shame attached to it.

Society teaches women how to be desirable long before we are ever taught how to desire ourselves. We learn how to look good, sound good, perform well, and stay small enough to be accepted. But confidence does not come from being chosen by another person. It comes from knowing yourself deeply first.

And honestly, maybe my ex cheating on me and putting me through emotional trauma accidentally did me a favor. Because while he was out searching for validation through random right swipes, I was learning more about myself instead.

Somewhere between heartbreak, my first sex toy, six girls in my living room, and a guided meditation on the floor, I realized confidence is not about being the hottest girl in the room. It is about feeling at home within yourself and honoring who you are unapologetically.