November 3rd, 2015
[This is a re-post I forgot a wrote some years ago. It’s all super accurate. Also super nerdy.] [In addition and furthermore, I crypto-sized all s*x references because I’m really sick of Google sending me enthusiastic referrals from Malaysian p*rn sites.]
I was thinking the other day about my emotional development, and why it’s not as far along as I’d like it to be. My emotional maturity is pee-sized, when I’d really like it to be at least as big as a salad beet, or a medium-length tuber.
I thought that maybe I was making some progress in this area, but then I get all worked up about whether or not people will come to my 40th birthday party and last night, I told my husband “not to pee,” because the sound of his urine against the toilet water was splashy and voluminous.
In so many ways, I’m still a child, and I wonder how I got stuck in this developmental stage of jumping up and down when I want something and bursting into tears when I don’t get my way.
Then it struck me: it’s my parents’ fault.
It’s all coming back to me now. Like most importantly, how no one ever told me about s*x. The memory that appears most vividly is how I walked into my parent’s bedroom one night to find my mom naked and laying on her stomach while my dad “rubbed” her back with the “massager.” I was 8 and confused by the sight, but I knew that it must have to do with some kind of parental “private time.” No one ever spoke of that incident again, but about a year later, when I heard the word “s*x” from some schoolyard kid, I put two and two together. A-ha! My naked parents must have been having s*x! So i asked my mom. My Catholic, dressed-up-for-church-sat-in-the-front-pew mom.
This is how it went:
Me: Mom? Were you and dad having s*x last year?
My Mom (probably thinking back to whether her rhythm birth control method allowed her to have had s*x last year): Why do you ask?
Me: Because you were naked and dad was rubbing your back.
My Mom: Oh. Um, let’s see. Uh, well honey, s*x is very private.
Me: Why? What do you do during s*x?
My Mom: You make babies.
Me: Do you lay on top of each other naked?
My Mom: Um.
Me: Do you have your clothes on then?
My Mom: Yes, you can have your clothes on.
I absolutely swear that she said the last sentence. For YEARS, I thought you had s*x by laying on top of each other with your clothes on. Then, when I learned that a p*nis was involved, I imagined two people laying on top of each other until whenever the p*nis decided to inject its sp*rm. I did remember wondering how the p*nis got inside the woman, because I knew they were kind of soft and floppy, but I let those questions go unanswered in my small little Catholicized mind.
It wasn’t until the end of my eighth grade year that I found out the truth. I was babysitting and turned on Pay TV, hoping for E.T. or Tron, and somehow got a p*rno instead. Oh good Lord. Up until then, I had NO idea that people actually MOVED during s*x. And they moved fast! Also, there were other positions than just laying on top of each other? And, they were NAKED! Plus, the p*nis wasn’t soft and floppy! Why, it wasn’t soft and floppy at all!
I watched for a few minutes, stunned and curious. After a bit, I guiltily turned it off.
Then, I turned it back on.
These people were still moving up and down quickly! And they weren’t even in bed anymore. Wow! She was going to have a lot of babies, because from what I could tell, they’d been having tons of s*x.
After this eye-opening experience, I never looked at my mom and dad the same way again. Also, what was that crap about having clothes on? In my vast Pay TV experience, I never once saw any of these fast-moving, happy people wearing clothes, and lycra didn’t count.
So, the pieces of the puzzle are coming together for me now. If I’d learned about s*x earlier, I’d have better things to do than complain about my husband’s pee.
I’m glad we had this little talk.