My daughter said my blogs have been too serious lately. I should lighten up. So I thought I would write about sex.
Having gone to my 43rd high school reunion this month, I tried to remember old thoughts that I had tucked away in my aging brain. I can honestly say I don't remember learning about sex in high school.
The first recollections of a hint about sex was in the 9th grade when I was running around with a girl whom I was told was classed as "poor white trash." Having moved to the South in the 60's, there were no color or race minorities in my school, only Whites; so it boiled down to different Caucasian discriminating classes: poor, poor white trash, middle class, rich, popular, and unpopular groups. I never saw the differences in the classes because people were just people to me. I didn't care how much money they had or where they lived. I only cared that they were good people. Life was simple.
Life was very simple if your good friend isn't pregnant. How did that happen? I had ran around with her in school but had no idea what her life was like after school when I left on the school bus to go home. One minute she is there; the next minute she is gone. That is what pregnancy can do to you: take you out of school; never to be seen again.
How scary was that?
In the South, people seldom talked to me about anything that I thought was important, like sex. I do remember our family having a 3-D fold out body of a pregnant woman that opened up with a baby inside of her. I do remember opening the bathroom door, surprising my naked father. It was a quick flash of what a penis looked like. Since it was attached to a human and I know what humans are, it didn't frightened me. At the time I thought it was more like a deformed arm that was hidden from society because it was a disgrace to mankind.
The same year my friend got pregnant, the home economics teacher handed out a very simple leaflet about menstruation. It had no detailed information and she never talked about it. I had no clue why the teacher gave it to us. So I read it and prayed to die. If I didn't die then, a painless death; I would surely bleed to death, according to this leaflet; however, everyone else acted as if menstruating would be the greatest coming; just short of Jesus Christ.
And finally when it did happen as late as the summer of my junior year, it was nothing extraordinary or horrifying; except for, all the other girls in summer camp making fun of me because I didn't know how to use the tampons that my mother handed me on the way out the door. I was clueless anyway, so it didn't bother me that everyone made fun of me; I was just perplexed that No one tried to explain anything to me to make life easier; until my senior year.
My girlfriend, Linda, did try to educate me while we were still seniors. She wanted me to read an excerpt from a popular book she was reading at the time called A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I learned later that it was suppose to teach young people about sex. I never read the book. I just read where she told me to read. When it came to the part of the excerpt where the little girl saw a strange man in the hallway and noticed, I think, it said: a "worm" like creature coming from his pants; I thought the worm was an alien from another planet.
Doesn't anyone speak English?
I was a sophomore in college when I finally forced myself to learn to use a tampon because I was determined to switch to a product that was more sanitary. But being a virgin, it was not easy. I told my roommates that I was going into the bathroom to learn to insert a tampon. After a very long while, they wondered what happened to me. I did come back slightly disoriented and ruffled. It was difficult climbing out of the toilet after I passed out.
I guess it's not so bad to say my first sexual counter came from a tampon. I wonder where it is now. I should set up a memorial, so my husband can thank "it" every day for saving him from being the "first."
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