I’m male, from Greece. When I was 17, I decided to have my first sexual intercourse at an Athens brothel, like many of my classmates, which was (and probably still is) a common highschool boy practice. I knew my dad had had a similar experience in his time, so I felt okay to tell him about my decision. He encouraged me and even told me that “it is just a transaction,” like buying something and paying for it -so that I would feel okay with it. He implied that, since I am paying, the prostitutes are okay with the deal.
Indeed, I went. I don’t know whether the prostitutes are okay with the deal, but I know it took me years to gather enough knowledge and empathy to understand how twisted his approach was and how it actually confused me, my emotions, my sexuality, my attitude towards women, and probably more.
I know he thought he did his best. I wish I had a first time with a girl in an actual, loving relationship.
And -as all events happening in families- it is not just the one event. The event is a sign of an ongoing mentality in which we are soaked.