The Dogpound Rodeo was the highlight of the summer where I grew up.  It was what every teenager in Cremona wanted to attend, and I was not excluded from this desire.  But, my Dad didn’t want me to go.  He believed that it was a place of debauchery and that I would only get into trouble should I go.  He must have figured I’d get sucked into the wrong crowd and do something I’d regret.  

At the time, I was 14 years old and had been dating a boy for about a year. We had already been in trouble a few times with making out in the fields and getting caught kissing behind the barns. I’m certain my Dad didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him.

But I was in love!

He made me feel loved, he made me feel special, and of course, at that age, I put him on a pedestal and made him everything in my world.  Nothing else mattered but my time spent with him.  My grades were still really good, but I was definitely distracted and thinking he was the solution to all my teenage angst. 

I started writing poetry when I met him.  I became a hopeless romantic. We went horseback riding together, I went to his hockey games with him.  I even traveled with the hockey team on the sweaty, stinky bus! The lengths I went to in order to keep him in my world were borderline obsessive.  I simply knew he was the one for me. Turns out, I couldn’t have been more wrong, but I wouldn’t find that out until several years later.

I asked Dad if I could go to the rodeo that year. 

I was desperate. I knew he was going, and if I didn’t go with him, then obviously he would have another girlfriend before the rodeo came to an end! How a 14-year-old female brain operates will always be a mystery, but it had its grip fully and completely on me. I knew I had to go to the rodeo so that I could party with him.  Dad’s response was absolutely what I expected, and I was given a resounding NO. 

I got to work plotting.  There had to be a way that I could get there without getting caught.  There had to be a way I could convince my Dad that it would all be okay.  I put my teenage thinking cap on, brought out my journal, and after writing about ten angry teenager poems about how terrible my Dad was for not letting me do what I want, I began planning.  I knew that my best friend was going to be there, and figured it would be easier for me to tell him I’d be with her the whole weekend. He trusted her — why?  I’m not sure, because we were always getting into trouble, but he did. And so, the plan was born. I would go with her to the rodeo, spend the weekend with her, and her parents would make sure that I was taken care of.  

Dad said yes. I couldn’t believe it!

I was so excited and beside myself with glee.

I had pulled the wool over his eyes and was going to get to spend an entire weekend with my boyfriend.  Now, all we had to do was figure out how to get his parents on board.  Turns out, that wasn’t an issue, because what was about to happen at that rodeo was going to change my life forever. It was going to open me up to a whole new world of understanding of what humans can be like.  

I got to the rodeo and immediately started partying.  Even though I was only 14, in a small town like that, everyone makes sure you’re taken care of. The drinks were flowing, and I was having a blast! The music was loud, the events of the rodeo were exciting, and I was holding hands with him. It wasn’t long before we were out in the trees behind the rodeo grounds making out with each other. But something was different this time. 

We were ready to take it further.  

Where does one find a place for sex at a rodeo? The possibilities are endless - and we got creative. My friend was barrel racing at the rodeo, so she had her horse trailer there.  It seemed like the smartest idea, so we hopped in there, laid down a horse blanket, and did the deed. Five minutes later, it was all over, and I was no longer a virgin. I had lost my innocence on a dirty horse blanket in the middle of a sea of trailers at the Dogpound Rodeo.  

I was elated, but heartbroken at the same time. The hopeless romantic in me wanted to lay in his arms for hours, staring at the stars and talking about our future.  The lost little girl wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry the night away for what was no longer. The angry teenager in me wanted to yell and scream.  I didn’t feel worthy enough to have made this milestone event any more special than a couple of farm animals in a barn. Why bother? I had never felt worthy, and fucking on a horse blanket was good enough.  

To top it all off, the whole rodeo found out about it. 

Losing your virginity isn’t exactly a subtle act, and the entire community knew within a few short hours. It spread like wildfire that the chicken farmer’s daughter was so crazy that she fucked someone in the back of her best friend's horse trailer.  Now I had to run damage control so that Dad wouldn’t find out.  How do you do that in a community where rumors are like fuel? I started writing in my journal again (I did a lot of that back then) and shared all of my deep and dark secrets on those pages.  I wrote out all of the details.  

A few weeks later, my Mom found my journal and was horrified, as I can only imagine. Her baby had written pages and pages of smut, describing in vivid detail an event that she dearly hoped was imagination and not truth. She gave the pages to my dad and asked him to handle the situation. Driving home one day with him, he pulled over and put the pages in my lap. I grabbed them in horror and my face went white. 

I had no idea what to do, but I started thinking fast.  

‘It’s not a true story, Dad! It’s just imagination! I have been thinking about it a lot, but I know better. I would never lie to you!’

These are the words that blurted out of my mouth. Did he believe me? Or did he just pretend to because it was easier than believing his daughter could have done something like this? (He did, for those of you who are wondering). 

At 14 years old, I had made a decision that I was going to grow up fast. This was only the beginning of a life that would cause my mother to lose countless nights of sleep and gain several gray hairs. After the tragedy that was about to occur in my family, it would only get worse, but I had already chosen the pathway.