Destination: Sexuality
Adventures in self-taught sex-ed.
Like many others who grew up in the South, my sex education was practically non-existent, and my sex life wasn’t much better. I watched from the sidelines as my peers stumbled into and out of sexual relationships without a solid foundation of sex-ed under their feet to keep them from falling into an unwanted pregnancy, an STD or partner who didn’t know what a clitoris was. Honestly, though, I was okay with that. In fact, I had practically no interest in sex while I was in high school. The sidelines fell right inside my comfort zone.
I had practically no interest in sex while I was in high school. The sidelines fell right inside my comfort zone.
There’s no shame* in exploring one’s sexuality while growing up (as long as it’s safe and consensual); however, I can only imagine how difficult it was for my friends and classmates to navigate sex without an understanding of what sex is, does, and means.
* Editor’s note: If only that were true! There shouldn’t be shame in exploring one’s sexuality, but all too often, there is. -Kevin M. Cook
I saw all these girls around me (and in the media) who were having sex, but hated it. Sex was boring, it was uncomfortable, it was embarrassing, it hurt, or it didn’t feel like anything at all. Despite my inexperience, that just didn’t sound right to me. Sex was supposed to be fun, right? It was supposed to be romantic, or sensual; it was supposed to be enjoyable for both parties.
Sex was supposed to be fun, right? It was supposed to be romantic, or sensual; it was supposed to be enjoyable for both parties.
It was surprising to me that the girls I talked to accepted their unhappy sex lives. They thought the pain and fear were normal, and that any pleasure for them was very unlikely. They made peace with that, and continued to sleep with their boyfriends despite not liking it. Again, that just didn’t sound right.
Thus marks the beginning of my adventures through the Internet, searching for every article, blog post, and YouTube tutorial about sex that I could find. I learned everything I possibly could about sex so that when I started sleeping around, it wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t be scary. It wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. I was going to have fun, dammit, just like I knew all those other girls should have.
I supplied for myself the sex-ed that my schools, parents, and teachers didn’t.
I learned about the different kinds of contraception that were available to me — condoms, dental dams, IUDs. I learned about birth control pills and what they actually did for a woman’s body besides preventing pregnancy. (Subsequently, I realized that birth control pills would actually help with my incredibly painful and heavy periods, which had never been presented to me as a possible solution before).
I learned about the female anatomy — where the clitoris is, how to stimulate it, and why it’s so sensitive. I learned about the male anatomy, too, because I don’t let guests inside my house without getting to know them first.
I learned about gay sex, lesbian sex, the sex industry, and so on and so on. I learned everything on my own because I didn’t want to be afraid of sex. I didn’t want sex to be something I dreaded, or something that hurt. I wanted to climb into bed with my first lover knowing exactly what was happening and why so that I didn’t worry. I wanted to enjoy the experience because I saw how unenjoyable it could be.
I wanted to enjoy the experience because I saw how unenjoyable it could be.
And I did enjoy it. My first time wasn’t long; it wasn’t mind blowing; it wasn’t sensational in any kind of way. But, I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t hurt. It felt nice, comfortable, warm. I knew how to put on a condom and how to dispose of it afterwards. I knew I needed to pee shortly after to avoid a UTI. I knew how to communicate with my partner so that we were both happy with how things turned out.
I want to offer my compassion to those girls from my high school who had undesirable, empty or awful sexual relationships — there were a lot of them. They battled through the sexual ignorance our school system instilled in us the hard way. They struggled with the pain, fear and pregnancy paranoia that I thankfully never had to worry about.
But, at the risk of belaboring the point — those girls should not have had to endure that kind of sexual stress.
Our school systems fail us continuously in regards to sex-ed, but we don’t have to accept the bullshit, abstinence-only propaganda they try to shove down our throats. We can take our sexuality into our own hands and learn for ourselves what sex is, does, means.
We can take the fear, the pain, the mystery out of sex and instead enjoy our bodies and the bodies of those we love.
