Memoir, Sex Education

Consent: My First Time Was With A Girl

Sex Education: We would not have felt confident enough to discuss the emotions we had experienced that first time with an adult

Introduction

In today’s society, it is extremely easy to find out about any number of sexual activities. This may sound like a good thing, but I believe it actually hinders sex education by muddying the waters.

What a nightmare for the young. At every turn, they can access so much rubbish and be influenced inappropriately about how to behave sexually. It is so important to gain information from credible sources. Parents need to take responsibility for their children’s sex education in an attempt to give them a balanced outlook to take through to adulthood.

Things were a little different when I was young. Although, there were similarities, such as the lack of open and honest sex related conversation between adults and young people, letting them know consent is paramount. This applies whether you are sharing images, having your first kiss or sexual encounter.

When my father abused me, consent was removed from the equation. However, when I went to big school I was lucky to be part of an experience which was bathed in consent, and I took that forward on my life journey.

Feeling Self-conscious

During the summer before going to secondary school, I suddenly felt as if I was actually growing up. Although my appearance was still very much childlike.

At eleven, I was medium height — I had a growth burst at about thirteen — skinny, flat chested, had not yet grown into my face, and would probably have been considered gawky.

Since my mum had to work, in the summer holidays my brother and I would stay at her cousin's and husband's house— we called them Aunt and Uncle and were very close to them.

They had been involved in my life from the moment I was adopted at six months. They never had children, and both lavished their attention on me and my brother. Uncle Geoff was kind and clever. He inspired me to explore my imagination by making up stories in his head from nowhere. The tales he told were way more exciting than any books.

Aunt Lucy was the one person who put routine into my life. She had a time and a place for everything and was a marvellous cook.

I was friends with a few of the neighbours’ children and in the summer we would go over to the park or play in one of the gardens.

It always seemed to be sunny on those days — and indeed it was when I was a child the famous summer of ’76 in the UK happened. Temperatures were regularly reaching 35 °C. I remember as I often just ran around the garden in my shorts and nothing else.

However, the particular summer holiday before I was due to start at secondary school, I felt self-conscious and asked my Aunt if I should leave my T-shirt on or was it OK to be bare chested. I may not have looked as if I was growing into a woman, yet inside something must have been stirring to make me think this way.

I’d put any thoughts about my body aside for years, at least since my dad left. I wanted to be a normal child after having been sexualised early by him, and my head filled with things I should not have been aware of for many years.

The only time I remember thinking what it meant to be female was when my mum’s friend’s daughter stayed with us for a few weeks when I was about nine. She was three years older and talked to me about developing and what that meant to us being girls. Looking back, I think she must have been mature for her age and bright too. We played some kiddy type games — like doctors and nurses, which led us to explore our bodies and chat about how that felt in more than one way. But when she went home I returned to being a tomboy who didn’t want to grow up.

Starting Big School

After a week of exams and chats, we were assigned our form classes and sat in alphabetical order. As the years went on this had a bearing on relationships made and peer hierarchy in the form.

For the main subjects we would all go to assigned academic sets. I was content to be with many of the girls from my primary school, including Karen and Victoria.

A few months into term one there were various sport try-outs — which I didn’t do well at, but then success in the first year — now known as year seven— traditional cross country run. It was inevitable, really. I was slight, and a street kid who loved running everywhere. I nailed it.

Because of this, I became part of the athletics team and decided to be brave and join one outside of school too. For my twelfth birthday my gran bought me running spikes which I adored.

I had been playing with a few girls, Victoria, Karen and a girl called Jane — who I had known since the start of primary school, and as the year progressed, Karen seemed to fasten on to me somewhat and decided to join the same running club.

I think we attended twice a week, but occasionally we would get off the bus early and go to the woods. I was crazy about being amongst the trees— and Karen just seemed happy to do what I wanted.

Although nice enough, Karen never really sparked my enthusiasm like my best friend from primary school — Claire — had. Something clicked when we had been together that for me never happened again for several years. Still, I had a person to hang out with who invited me to her house, shopping and such like.

Consent & Erasing my Shame

One afternoon when we had just turned twelve — I still remember Karen’s birthday was exactly a month after mine — she came round to my home for the afternoon during a school break. Mum was working and my brother out, which meant I had the house to myself. I often played dress up with my mum’s clothes and shoes, always putting them back neatly, so she wouldn’t know. Karen wanted a turn with a few of the glamorous dresses. I laid a few out on the bed, and we began to strip and try them on. Prancing about in front of the mirror before play-acting using the clothes as props.

We were having a lot of fun when we decided the action in our game meant we should go through to my bedroom. Soon we were naked, staring at ourselves in the mirror and comparing bodies. I was slightly taller and skinnier, and neither of us had pubic hair. Karen’s breasts were starting to bud, and she commented they were often tender.

We went back to playing, which had developed into us being a courting couple. Still naked — we’d laid down, side by side, sliding our bodies together and our lips met in a movie style kiss.

I was pleased Karen was enjoying the game, and also excited we were pretending to be adults. As our mounds pushed against each other, my body tingled in a way it never had before. We continued for a while then I said I needed to put all mum’s clothes back, so we got dressed and not long after, she left.

We never ever spoke about that afternoon. Although there was nothing to regret. We were simply two young kids playing at what it may be like to be adults while also exploring our bodies. Very natural and normal ways to behave.

The feelings and emotions we had experienced when touching each other, were not the sort of things a growing child would have felt confident to discuss with an adult. I don’t know if that has changed, but back then it really seemed as if you had to stumble around in the dark attempting to work things out alone or with your peer group. I can imagine that was why many young girls became pregnant.

I was lucky to have had this experience with another girl. But it wasn't until much later I realised the significance of what had gone on.

When I did look back and reassess what had happened, I was content that the first time I had felt any sexual arousal had been in my own bedroom with a friend of the same age, who I had known for a few years.

In retrospect, the experience with Karen cancelled out much of the shame I was holding on to about what had happened with my dad. With Karen, I had been equally in control.

In a way it was odd we never discussed what went on that day, although I think this was more down to the fact we were both girls when society was so geared up to a boy being with a girl, a man with a woman, male and female. Of course that only mattered on the surface and was part of the way we thought because we were being brainwashed within the catholic school system, but I know what I took away from the afternoon with Karen was the knowledge that the most important thing was consent.

Conclusion

Nowadays, it is probably impossible to restrict your youngster’s internet activity to such an extent that they are not privy to some kind of damming advice or movie. Even if you manage to do this in your home there are plenty of other places they can go online to feed their curiosity. And no amount of blocks or censorship will stop a computer savvy youngster from finding out what they think they need to know.

I would think they would probably be more likely to seek out such information if sex is viewed as a taboo word in their own home. Which is why the nuances of growing up should be talked about frequently within the family unit. Start from a young age so when you, as a parent, really do want to pass on some important knowledge, your kids won’t be embarrassed about the topic raised. The most important thing is that a balanced view is imparted.

Young adults should learn it’s OK to enjoy sex, however being old enough to do this, goes hand in hand with the responsibility of treating the other person with respect, and of course, always making sure consent is in place.

My primary school years

Being adopted

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