SEX.
Yes, I said sex.
I have to begin by saying that my sex-education is solely based on what they taught us in school. My mother's idea of sex education was to say, "Don't do it." and, later, when I was a teenager, regularly asking, "Are you still a virgin?"
God help me, but the day I quit lying to her and said, "No" her next question was "How many have you slept with?"
I kid you not. I honestly think that if I'd answered with more than "one", she'd have demanded names and vital statistics.
She's warped. She sent mixed messages. When I was in college, she said, "If you think you need to go on the pill, let me know. I don't want you to get pregnant." And when I mentioned, before the aforementioned conversation about my virginity, that we should talk about my going on the pill, she reacted by giving me a lecture of how "I didn't raise you that way."
Small wonder I got pregnant, unmarried, at 20.
I have, slowly, over the years, grown into my sexuality. Thankfully, too, I didn't end up with anything worse than an unplanned pregnancy.
My mother seems to be rather unnerved by the fact that I respect no Victorian era taboos on the subject. She's embarrassed by my lack of shyness, my lack of ladyness, and my casual enjoyment of a good dirty joke or story.
She's also habitually mortified by my use of *blue* language. I love it. If I can say something so extreme and unprecedented, she'll shut up for a full 5 minutes. It's a joy to have that kind of power.
She seems to think that $267.50 of MY money paying for the PPV for the Toad, while extreme and dishonest on his part, okay, though, because he's a man.
She has bought into the lies and crap of a culture where sex is "family duty". Over the years, she has quit making jokes at mine or Kevin's expense because, in all honesty, I turn them around on her. If she comments on size, I give her a number. If she comments on quantity, I say something funny about "right now, even while you and I are talking".
I suppose, in the end, it's taken the fun out of it for her. For her (and my siblings) to have used "You weren't raised that way" as an excuse to treat me badly for not making decisions, especially sex based ones, on THEIR protocol....and especially to have my brother use it, all the while having been doing the SAME things with HIS pre-wife lead me to fight back verbally.
It also led me to believe that if I had a dick, they'd never have had an issue with my choices.
Once I realized this, I was free--free from worrying about THEIR hangups, and free to discover my own.
I am much happier for it--and more comfortable in my own skin than many women I know. I have been accused of having Penis Envy, but my accuser would have done better to find his own, rather than direct his Penis Envy onto me. That is, and was, another rant. I was unable, due to the proximity of customers to explain that cencept to him--for me to be envious of something, he'd have to have had one in the first place. Sorry I missed the opportunity to explain it to you, Bub.
I also revel in the fact that my husband, while he is sometimes mortified by some of my comments, also thoroughly enjoys the fact that he can talk "like a guy" in front of me without my going all premenstual and girly.
Finally, I'll end with the thought that has stopped a good many male coworkers in their tracks: Sex is only dirty if you're doing it right.
Yes, I said sex.
I have to begin by saying that my sex-education is solely based on what they taught us in school. My mother's idea of sex education was to say, "Don't do it." and, later, when I was a teenager, regularly asking, "Are you still a virgin?"
God help me, but the day I quit lying to her and said, "No" her next question was "How many have you slept with?"
I kid you not. I honestly think that if I'd answered with more than "one", she'd have demanded names and vital statistics.
She's warped. She sent mixed messages. When I was in college, she said, "If you think you need to go on the pill, let me know. I don't want you to get pregnant." And when I mentioned, before the aforementioned conversation about my virginity, that we should talk about my going on the pill, she reacted by giving me a lecture of how "I didn't raise you that way."
Small wonder I got pregnant, unmarried, at 20.
I have, slowly, over the years, grown into my sexuality. Thankfully, too, I didn't end up with anything worse than an unplanned pregnancy.
My mother seems to be rather unnerved by the fact that I respect no Victorian era taboos on the subject. She's embarrassed by my lack of shyness, my lack of ladyness, and my casual enjoyment of a good dirty joke or story.
She's also habitually mortified by my use of *blue* language. I love it. If I can say something so extreme and unprecedented, she'll shut up for a full 5 minutes. It's a joy to have that kind of power.
She seems to think that $267.50 of MY money paying for the PPV for the Toad, while extreme and dishonest on his part, okay, though, because he's a man.
She has bought into the lies and crap of a culture where sex is "family duty". Over the years, she has quit making jokes at mine or Kevin's expense because, in all honesty, I turn them around on her. If she comments on size, I give her a number. If she comments on quantity, I say something funny about "right now, even while you and I are talking".
I suppose, in the end, it's taken the fun out of it for her. For her (and my siblings) to have used "You weren't raised that way" as an excuse to treat me badly for not making decisions, especially sex based ones, on THEIR protocol....and especially to have my brother use it, all the while having been doing the SAME things with HIS pre-wife lead me to fight back verbally.
It also led me to believe that if I had a dick, they'd never have had an issue with my choices.
Once I realized this, I was free--free from worrying about THEIR hangups, and free to discover my own.
I am much happier for it--and more comfortable in my own skin than many women I know. I have been accused of having Penis Envy, but my accuser would have done better to find his own, rather than direct his Penis Envy onto me. That is, and was, another rant. I was unable, due to the proximity of customers to explain that cencept to him--for me to be envious of something, he'd have to have had one in the first place. Sorry I missed the opportunity to explain it to you, Bub.
I also revel in the fact that my husband, while he is sometimes mortified by some of my comments, also thoroughly enjoys the fact that he can talk "like a guy" in front of me without my going all premenstual and girly.
Finally, I'll end with the thought that has stopped a good many male coworkers in their tracks: Sex is only dirty if you're doing it right.
No comments:
Post a Comment