I turned 20 years old a few weeks ago, and I still can’t believe it. I’m entering a new decade of my life — a decade that will be filled with milestones and life-changing moments. To prepare for this new chapter of my life, I decided that I should focus more on my health. Besides, how can I live my best 20-something life when I’m not at my best?
After changing my diet and starting a new exercise regime, the only thing left to do was to schedule an appointment at the doctor’s office (cue dramatic music). I don’t know one person on this planet who actually enjoys a visit to the doctor, but nevertheless, I went. My doctor sat down with me and started to go over my blood work results, and luckily, all was fine. Then, she started asking about my sex life, and I felt my cheeks go red. I didn’t know half of the words she was using, and when she brought out the visual aids, my head began to turn. Luckily, after I explained that I really had no idea what was going on, she slowed down and explained things more thoroughly. I left with my first prescription of birth control pills and more questions than answers. Why didn’t I know what she was talking about? Had I done something wrong?
This experience made me dig deeper into the reasons why I felt embarrassed to talk about natural parts of life and sexual health.
My sexual education experience wasn’t exactly the most helpful
My sexual education is, to say it lightly, limited. I remember watching the health video in fifth grade that friends warned me about. From this video, I gained a little knowledge about menstruation. I also received a gift bag with deodorant and pads, but that was it. I didn’t have to think about those things again until seventh grade when I got my first period. Suddenly, all the snippets of information I read in Seventeen and the rumors I had heard from my friends flooded my mind. Would the sharks at the beach smell the blood and target me? Could I take a bath? (I was really into Lush bath bombs, so this question was very important.) Over the next several years of having periods, I figured out the basics by myself. However, when I got to an age where girls my age were having sex, I went into another internal tailspin. This time, there was no video or gift bag. To this day, I would not say I possess a proper sexual education.
I’ve always avoided these topic — and wasn’t surrounded by people who were vocal
To be honest, I could have easily done my own research or asked someone for information, but I didn’t. I think a part of that can be contributed to my shy nature. I don’t often ask questions or bring up topics that some consider to be impolite. I’d rather listen than talk, and if the talk isn’t about sex, I won’t hear anything about sex. My mother never talked about these things with me, but then again, I never asked. The girls I hung out with during high school were religious, and most of us did not have serious relationships. These are not bad things by any means, but they just don’t lend themselves to a conversation about sex. I wish I could have overcome the shyness and asked questions then instead of playing catch-up now.
But wait — why did I feel so stigmatized about speaking up?
I think it’s largely due to our culture. Most of the things I’ve seen on TV or in the movies casts sexual discussions as “unladylike”. Any young girl on screen who Googled “what is masturbation?” did so while she kept an eye over her shoulder, making sure someone didn’t catch her. Where’s the female character who boldly asked a probing question about sex in science class without snickers from fellow classmates? I don’t think she exists. A survey commissioned by Planned Parenthood, Family Circle Magazine and the Center for Latino Adolescent and Family Health in 2012 found that 42 percent of surveyed parents claimed to have talked to their children a number of times about sex, but only 27 percent of the teens agreed.
Parents believe they give “the talk,” but children don’t agree. Most of the articles I’ve seen about “the talk” regard it as “uncomfortable” or “embarrassing.” As a young girl, I would never want to put my mom through that. I think I valued avoiding discomfort more than learning the truth. I wish that our culture didn’t regard these conversations as one of the many hurdles of parenting. Mothers should feel comfortable frequently and realistically talking about sex and sexual health, and with that, daughters should feel at ease asking questions.
I’m sure I am not the only 20-something out there with a lot of questions about sex and sexual health. If you’re like me and feel weird researching or discussing these topics, I suggest talking with a medical professional first. In most cases, they’ll give you accurate information and realistic advice because they’ve paid crazy amounts for medical college tuition to learn them.
Luckily, our world seems to be moving in a direction that’s embracing untainted sexual education, but we still have great strides to make. Great resources are becoming more and more available to make our efforts easier, like Planned Parenthood, guides on emotional aspects women should know about sex (but probably don’t), and support groups like Advocates for Youth and the National Coalition to Support Sexuality Education. Taking the initiative is really the first step to getting a better idea on how we should truly feel about birth control for our own bodies.