How I Healed From 16 Years of Sex Shame
I played the “virgin,” became a “whore,” then finally liberated myself.
Walking through Walmart with my mom, we searched for my first bra. At 11 years old, I felt horrified; she laughed about it. I skirted awkwardly through the aisles, checking for anyone I might know; I wanted to hide.
Thus began my unwilling journey, morphing into a woman’s body. Though I couldn’t have explained myself, I felt humiliated by my physical expression of femininity.
I grew up surrounded by loyal Christians. My social exposure shrank further when my parents decided to homeschool my brother and me. Our modest social schedule consisted mainly of religious events, dinners with pastors, and hangouts with church-goers. As a child, I was endlessly curious, energetic, and determined. Yet, these misogynistic, hierarchical environments primed me for many years of confusion, emotional damage, and abuse.
Through repeated religious messaging and other male-told histories, I understood early-on that others would evaluate me by my sexual “purity.” Women who saved sex for marriage earned a high social status, while sexually-open women lost respectability. These rigid principles caused me to feel embarrassed, inadequate, and ashamed of my body’s desires.
