I got carried away by a lot of things when I was a teenager. I thought love was a very beautiful feeling. I met my “first love” at a very early stage of my life. He made me see things from a very different angle of life. He was my, let’s say “mentor”. Everything I knew about relationships and life as a whole came from his think tank, well I guess that’s what naivety turns you into when you have no older and younger sibling to turn to for any advice. I was just nineteen and he was thirty-two and even though there was a huge age difference between us, I didn’t care. I was in love and he was in love with me, at least so I thought.

I didn’t want to be the girl who lost her boyfriend because she refused to love him not just physically but sexually, so I went for it. We made love right inside my room, next to my mother’s room. Yes, I was that fearless and bold, just for the sake of love. It didn’t take too long before I started noticing some changes, well not the kind of changes we see in Nollywood movies where a lady starts to vomit a day after having sex. I started noticing how lazy I was getting around the house, the smell of every meal made me want to puke, I started gaining weight in some specific areas like my boobs and hips, then my....

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