Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

Abstract

o listening to records and doodling now?</i></p><p id="f23a">I had no idea what she was <a href="https://readmedium.com/are-you-happy-in-your-relationship-it-will-be-reflected-in-your-words-d05ecfaaafd0">talking</a> about for a long time.</p><p id="3f5d">Fast-forward several years, I had long ago taken sex education on three different grade levels. By this time, it was the winter break after my first year of college. My mother, upon learning that I was now using tampons instead of pads, informed me that “You’re not supposed to wear tampons until you’re married.”</p><p id="7ee6">Although this time I was quickly able to figure out that was another flaccid attempt at a sex <a href="https://readmedium.com/how-a-word-association-test-predicted-relationship-success-63a62e66c040">talk</a>, what she didn’t know was it was too late. By that time, the virginity train had already left the tunnel, barreling through my hymen like freight on a light rail, never to be seen or heard from again.</p><p id="2f89">But it does make me wonder: If my sex talks were <i>this</i> bad and I <i>didn’t</i> end up pregnant, exactly how bad were the sex talks of my classmates who actually did?</p><p id="3c75"><b><i>More from Kiki Wellington:</i></b></p><div id="34c7" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/old-time-advice-on-love-relationships-and-sex-a6591dcd60ee"> <div> <div> <h2>A Blast From Relationship Advice Past</h2> <div><h3>10 pieces of antiquated ideas on love, relationships, and sex</h3></div>

Options

     <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
          </div>
          <div>
            <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*6JgSd9xErrX3yT5gI1X4aA.jpeg)"></div>
          </div>
        </div>
      </a>
    </div><div id="f173" class="link-block">
      <a href="https://readmedium.com/that-time-the-obscene-phone-caller-hung-up-on-me-bad-phone-sex-f17b74858958">
        <div>
          <div>
            <h2>That Time the Obscene Phone Caller Hung Up on Me</h2>
            <div><h3>If you’re going to dirty talk strangers, you’d better be good at it</h3></div>
            <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
          </div>
          <div>
            <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*Mti0_iTA2BFq1BUyVk-yfg.jpeg)"></div>
          </div>
        </div>
      </a>
    </div><div id="e324" class="link-block">
      <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-real-reason-i-refused-to-give-you-oral-sex-fellatio-7aa9be2b4878">
        <div>
          <div>
            <h2>The Real Reason I Refused to Suck Your Dick</h2>
            <div><h3>And no, gag reflex and a cold had nothing to do with it</h3></div>
            <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
          </div>
          <div>
            <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*BeyYfCrDnBMteZ5c)"></div>
          </div>
        </div>
      </a>
    </div></article></body>

The Miseducation of Kiki Wellington

A tale of two nonsensical parental sex talks

When I was in high school, I was often told my town was the teenage pregnancy capital of the United States. I don’t know if that was actually true or just a scare tactic, but based on my observations, it felt true. It was not uncommon for the sins of the summer to be visited upon the spring, or for the flings of the spring to rear their protruding bellies in the winter. But baby bumps parading around the high school courtyard aside, if people were getting the sex talks I received growing up, it was no wonder the town may have earned this dubious mythical distinction.

That goes to show just how bad they were.

The virginity train had already left the tunnel, barreling through my hymen like freight on a light rail….

When I was in the fourth grade, when I still firmly held the conviction that boys were yucky — and frankly, sometimes I still do — my mother prophylactically sat me down and told me: “There will come a time that you’re going to want to have a friend over, but if things get too quiet in your room, I’m coming in.”

Uh, okay. Can I go back to listening to records and doodling now?

I had no idea what she was talking about for a long time.

Fast-forward several years, I had long ago taken sex education on three different grade levels. By this time, it was the winter break after my first year of college. My mother, upon learning that I was now using tampons instead of pads, informed me that “You’re not supposed to wear tampons until you’re married.”

Although this time I was quickly able to figure out that was another flaccid attempt at a sex talk, what she didn’t know was it was too late. By that time, the virginity train had already left the tunnel, barreling through my hymen like freight on a light rail, never to be seen or heard from again.

But it does make me wonder: If my sex talks were this bad and I didn’t end up pregnant, exactly how bad were the sex talks of my classmates who actually did?