First a Disclaimer:
This Blog is probably rated R, so read at your own risk. It’s not intended to be filthy, but humorous, honest, and actually empowering.
Past and current “lovers” (for lack of better terms), there is no need to crawl under a rock and die yet. I’m not dropping any names or
“events”, “whispered sweet nothings”, or “sneezes”. (Yeah, I said sneeze.)
I was just telling my best friend yesterday that I wasn’t really inspired to post anything grande on this blog this week, so instead, I posted a short blurb about my latest writing project (“Releasing Kayleigh“) on my other blog, “I’m a Writer! When did that Happen?!” I sincerely thought that by posting a vague update on my current inspiration for another book, I would complete that unwritten goal of mine to post every week. Nope. I woke up this morning dying to talk about sex!
Haha, didn’t see that coming, did you? Seriously, this is a subject that wasn’t given a lot of platform in my home growing up. Don’t get me wrong, I got the sex talk. It wasn’t bad, but a hot poker through the eye would have felt better to me at the time. From the local library, my mom borrowed a few books that were dated back from the early 70’s that gave a thorough explanation of what I was going to experience in terms of a menstrual cycle and conception. The other book she used in great detail was the Bible. We were to wait until we were married to have sex–which was fine by me, since I wasn’t sure if I even understood how to get from point A to point B. It scared the crap out of me. I knew I would screw it all up. (No pun intended.)
As I sit here in a local coffee shop, sipping my mocha, I debate on how much I should enclose in this blog. I have a horrible habit of over-explaining and giving away too much information. I truly do not do this for shock-value; I’m beyond that need. I just see humor in much of my life experiences that many can learn from. It’s always more enjoyable to gain information with a giggle, right? Plus, that is the joy of being a Christian! I have no shame in my past sins/flaws because whether others forgive me and pass not any judgement, I live freely because I have a Father who not only forgives, but takes it a step farther than just acceptance–he embraces me and loves me through and through. So at this point, I post my disclaimer: I may post a few things in this particular post that may lead me to judgement and some of the content may not be appropriate for ALL audiences. That whole Parental Guidance thing comes to mind, but we should be monitoring what our kids read anyway, however that’s a completely different blog for another day.
So, there I was, capable of explaining the sciences of the menstrual cycle as well as the rendezvous of sperm and egg. Folks, this will not take you far at all in the bedroom… or the car seat… or the park… or a cemetery (whatever floats your boat). And before you think that my mom didn’t try to go into details of the whole kit-n-caboodle, I’m sure she did but my mortification of the entire topic prevented me from listening. Like I said–a hot poker through the eye. Which leads me to my first embarrassing confession. I had no idea what the man anatomy entailed. I came from a house full of girls–my poor dad–and what little we did know about the physical act of sex was that you got naked under the covers, kissed a lot and somehow a baby was made from that–Thank you, Days of our Lives. I can’t tell you how many of my barbies got pregnant in this simple way. Of course because we couldn’t afford little babies for barbie, she gave birth to little frogs, a puppy and a troll doll once (That was the ugliest baby ever! A horrible day in the delivery room.)
If I hadn’t listened to mom and those 1970’s books, I could have easily been lead to believe that by kissing alone, the sperm made its way to the egg. Scary thought seeing as how kissing has got to be one of the most amazing experiences in this world! Even now! You never get tired of it when you do it with someone you love. Finally, as I got a little older, I saw a more graphic sex scene in a movie and found it just abhorrent. Completely unappealing. There must be an end benefit to it if it looked that beastly and violent!
The word sex was not a overly welcomed word under my mom and dad’s roof. Not because it was bad, but more than likely because it made dad extremely uncomfortable for any of us to talk “girly talk”. It would always follow with him lounging back in his recliner with a red face, avoiding eye contact and saying, “I think we can find something else to talk about.” My parents come from a different world, a different time and my dad was the lone man out. Can’t really blame the guy–I’m living his nightmare now as a single mom of two boys who are currently gearing up for the dreaded “talk”. *shudder* But I will admit the sick enjoyment we received by my dad’s discomfort when my sisters and I would make a purposeful point to use the terms “Period”, “Ding-dong” (our name for penis), “beewee” (another name for penis), “peeper” (our name for vagina), and our favorite, “Do it” (you know what that means). A very mature crew I came from, folks. So I’m breaking the mold and forcing myself out of this conditioned discomfort with the word. Sex, sex, sex. Sex! SEX!
(I am so glad that is over with. I’m now blushing in this coffee shop now. I can only hope that people don’t assume that I’m browsing pornography.)
I was boy crazy from the start, but lucky me, the boys have never been Missy-crazy in return. I began dating when I was 15, just a month shy of 16. Thankfully, my parents were strict and allowed me to do only was my adolescent mind was capable of managing at the time. I was horribly ridiculed for being a virgin since junior high and well on through high school. My sophomore year, I dated a very experienced guy that dropped me like a bad habit when he became exhausted with cold showers. But not before he unpleasantly informed (embarrassed) me by pointing out that the male anatomy did not consist of two penises but one. I was always confused by the terms “balls” and “nuts”; I had no idea what everyone was talking about! And surely you boys weren’t using the same device to pee AND have sex with! Uh, apparently you are. (And no I will not be drawing a picture of what I imagined you possessed.) My friends would take pleasure in seeing me squirm through study hall as they pushed me to read the “Top 10 Sexiest Moves He’ll Die for!” article in Cosmopolitan magazine. Sadly, I was an open target in this not only because I was naive (the perpetual Edith Bunker of the 90’s) but because I was a skimmer of the word. Hey, if I wasn’t initially familiar with the word, I could only assume! “Orgasm” became organsim. “Genitals” became Gentiles. Go ahead laugh. I do encourage you to replace these words the next time you read a trashy article out of a magazine–an article that will not only mislead women to believing that they are sex-goddesses of knowledge but also instilling that it’s okay to have multiple partners. Cosmo, Glamour, Seventeen, please do us ladies a favor and shut up. Pass that message on to your other friends, Marie Claire, Vogue, and Allure as well.
Ultimately, no matter what I learned from my mom, the books of the 70’s, my ignorantly informed friends, and Days of our Lives I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing my first time. I may still not know what I’m doing.
I’m a supporter of sex education in the system. Abstinence is great and it’s what I believe in, but that’s something that can’t be taught; it’s a conviction. If we only nurture the conviction then we will birth a new Baby Boomer generation. Yikes! Our kids deserve better than that.
Now, as I said, I was raised to “wait until after marriage”–mainly because it was a sin not to. My own fault for not digging deeper into that at a younger age. But as I covered in a previous blog post, A Father’s Protection, I have finally realized that it’s so much more than that. He has asked us to remain pure to protect our hearts, not because He’s a tyrant and just wants to set up a bunch of needless rules. I am so glad I’ve moved passed that original theory! How imprisoning to feel that way!
1Thessolonians 4:3-4 says “God wants you to live a pure life. Keep yourselves from sexual promiscuity. Learn to appreciate and give dignity to your body.”
Sounds good to me. Where do I sign?
I wish it were just that simple. And maybe it could be if I could figure out some crazy way to close off my fleshy desires. It was one thing when I battled it in college. Movies and music glorified it! So did books. And lets be honest, there is always something appealing about rebelling against your upbringing as you experience one of life’s most awesome pleasures–all at the same time! I couldn’t wait to have sex! My hormones were all over the place. But there came a load of shame with those feelings, like I shouldn’t tell anyone that I wanted to “get it on like Donkey Kong”. Luckily, my first glimpse into the clean, unashamed fun of sex was advice given from one of my closest friends. She was my roommate, steep in the Pentecostal spirit. She was dating a preacher even. Just the kind of person that would make you feel shameful about my human passion. Awesome enough, she was encouraging with the whole sex thing (naturally after marriage though). Her theories? Kisses should be freely given and as often as possible and wedding nights should be the start to the official sex-a-thon. Wow! She had passions too, just willpower… well, willpower over the sex. The kissing apparently didn’t call for any willpower–none was ever encouraged– and I’m totally okay with that.
But it’s a different ballgame now. I have spent the last decade experiencing and at times hating the nature of this act we so wonderfully call SEX. I’m now divorced. Am I just expected to stop?! Uh,yeah. My heart is in the same shape now that it was when I was in my early twenties–it needs to be protected now more than ever. It needs to be protected for me, for my boys and for the heart I have to do God’s work. I also need to keep it safe for my husband. Yeah, I’ll exchange vows again; trust me. I give it about 5 years, tops.
How are people to trust me and the God I serve if I hypocritically continue a destructive path that goes against His Word? I’m not saying that He doesn’t show us Grace, but I’m saying that I should at least be making an effort, which I have. I think of all the young kids who make this vow of purity, wear purity rings… What do we do to them? We ridicule them. How horrible is that? These kids have made a solemn effort to hold true to God’s Word and we’re mocking them, placing bets that they will fail and then we can laugh even harder at their failures. I understand the argument that some become open targets (i.e. Joe Jonas, Myley Cyrus, Jessica Simpson), but does that really give us the go ahead to scoff at them? If anything, we should encourage their decision even more.
Chastity Rings, purity rings; they are all the same. They made their big splash in the 90’s and guess what? I actually owned one. I never wore it because I was ASHAMED! Is it just me or is it strange that I would be ashamed? Well, I found it again yesterday. It was silver, so it was a tad tarnished and so I’m having it cleaned today. Who’s to say that I can’t wear it because I’m over the age of 20?
I’m 34 years old. I know I’m going to make mistakes. I do not boast them, but I refuse to be ashamed of them. How else can I pass on my learning experiences to those who read my slightly incoherent ramblings? I will not show shame in my decision to wear my purity ring. It’s MY decision. I’m proud of it. Will I falter? Maybe, maybe not. Who knows? What I do know is this:
1. That this time around, I have a better understanding as to why I want to wait…again.
2. That sex organs are genitals not the same as non-Israelites clans.
3. Released sexual tension is not exactly a contiguous living system despite what it feels like.
4. You boys use one and the same to pee and have sex with. (Again, you will not get a visual of my original imagination)
5. You can get pregnant your first time. (Girls and boys, please read this again)
6. You can get pregnant if you choose to have sex during your girly cycle… which I can’t imagine why you’d want to test that. Blech. (Girls and boys, please read this one again as well.)
7. You cannot be a virgin again, but you can take a vow of purity.
8. Other people’s opinions and beliefs will not follow you through life, settle in your intimate relationships and into the bedroom; Therefore you shouldn’t care what others think now or ever. It’s your life.
So, after about 15 years I will wear my purity ring, when I want to and wear it proudly. It’s not a magical fix-it-all. It’s there to be a visual reminder for me and my desire to remain pure until I marry again. And if I’m not wearing it, please don’t assume that I knocked boots. I may have opted out of hand jewelry so I can play guitar that day. (I’m so easily distracted by finger-things when I play music)
Geez, I hope my fingers aren’t too fat. Maybe a twisty tie will help me accomplish the same goal? Hmmm…
And no, I will not ever be writing a book on sex. I’m sure the pregnancy rate would sky-rocket if I did. It would almost be like Britney and Jamie-Lynn Spears’ mom writing a book on parenting. A total disaster, unless it was marketed under Humor.
Have I no dignity? Oh, and don’t send me hate mail about this blog or call my mom. I really don’t want her putting soap in my mouth over this ordeal.