Summary

The author reflects on the negative and shame-inducing messages they received about their body and sexuality during childhood, which were perpetuated by family members and societal norms, and advocates for open and honest conversations about sex to dispel the harmful narrative that bodies and sexual pleasure are dirty.

Abstract

The author recounts a childhood incident where they were shamed by their sister for innocently touching their own breasts, an act that was deemed "filthy" and "nasty" without any rational explanation. This event set the stage for a series of lessons from various authority figures who reinforced the idea that the body, especially when it comes to sexual pleasure, is something to be ashamed of. The author points out the laziness in adults' failure to have candid discussions about sexual development with children, opting instead for simplistic and harmful admonitions. They lament the lack of progress in societal attitudes towards sex, which remains a taboo subject despite its natural and integral role in human life. The author expresses a desire for open dialogue about sexuality, free from judgment, and sees writing as a means to initiate such conversations and challenge the prevailing narrative that sexuality is something to be hidden or ashamed of.

Opinions

The author believes that the way society educates children about their bodies and sexuality is flawed, often leading to unhealthy beliefs and behaviors.
They criticize the ease with which adults label body parts and sexual exploration as "dirty" or "bad," without providing proper context or education.
The author suggests that the real issue behind the lack of proper sex education is adult laziness and discomfort with the subject.
They highlight the hypocrisy in societal attitudes towards sex, where it is both a pervasive thought and a forbidden topic of discussion.
The author values the importance of open, non-judgmental conversations about sex and views such dialogue as essential for personal growth and understanding of one's own sexuality.
They feel isolated in their quest for open discussion about sex, as there is no one in their immediate environment with whom they can have such conversations.
The author is optimistic about the potential for change, recognizing the power of writing and online communities to foster mature discussions about sex and to challenge the existing negative narratives.

They Taught Me My Body Was Dirty

“Body parts, filthy; sex, bad!”

I was around 12.

I was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper. Then, casually, I got one of my hands under my blouse. Although my breasts weren’t fully developed yet, they were already large enough for me to play with them.

When I say play, I don’t mean it in a sexual context. No, this was a girl, touching one of her body parts. To me, it wasn’t as different as rubbing a knee or cupping my head on my hand.

Still, my eldest sister, who was sitting opposite from me, said, “You are disgusting!”

I looked at her, eyes open wide. I was not insulted; instead, I was curious. Why was she calling me that?

“What is it?” I asked.

“You are touching your breasts! That’s filthy,” she said.

This puzzled me even more. I had taken a shower just a few hours ago. I was sure I was not dirty. She must have sensed my confusion because then she added:

“You must not touch your breast! It’s nasty!”

Lesson learned! I registered this information in my mind and got on with my day.

Now, I’m quite aware it is essential to educate children into when, where, and how to engage (or not) in certain behaviors, mostly to keep them safe. However, I take issue with the way some people choose to go about it.

What my sister said to me that day…those weren’t her words. Instead, she was passing onto me the code of conduct someone else taught her. In her mind, she was trying to take care of me, to show me the right way to behave.

Education

Many times I have wondered why adults choose to tell kids that their bodies are dirty. I have concluded most of it comes from extreme laziness.

You see, to explain to kids what’s really going on in their bodies as they grow up, you need to invest some time and effort. You have to sit down with the child, talk face to face, be careful to use appropriate language while not being patronizing…it takes some work!

It’s way easier to say, “body parts, filthy; sex, bad!”

Conversation over…

Sadly, this ends up pushing kids to develop unhealthy beliefs about sex and the way their bodies work.

As I grew up, my parents, Sunday school teachers — in Mexico, they are unavoidable — , regular teachers, and many others, taught me my body was a filthy thing. Touching it, enjoying it was wrong.

Why?

Well, no one took the time to explain that part. All they needed from me, all they needed from the other kids, was for us not to engage in sexual activity before time, AKA before getting married.

But that didn’t stop us, did it?

I remember when I started masturbating. First of all, I didn’t even know that’s what I was doing. All I knew was that it felt nice. Luckily, I had the good sense not to tell anyone; something told me they were going to freak out. There were a couple of times when my mother nearly caught red-handed (pun definitely not intended). I swear, her face was a mix of anger and fear. I could almost hear her thoughts: “oh, my God, what if my daughter is feeling pleasure?”

I wish I could tell you things have changed, but you already know they haven’t. In my country, there’s still this massive sense of hypocrisy, as if sex were the thing in everybody’s mind but, also, the one topic never to be discussed.

It’s a claustrophobic experience.

Talk to whom?

I’m not a kid anymore, but I still have this sense that I can’t openly talk about sex. I did a mental recount of all the people I know IRL and…no; there’s no one with whom I can have an open, non-judgmental conversation. There’s my partner, of course, but our chats are mostly regarding the things we want to do.

What I want is a healthy dialogue with other people. To chat about inner discoveries, the way our sexuality has evolved, our fears and doubts, and the enjoyment our bodies can bring.

Everything I learned about sex while I grew up, shrouded it in mystery and painted it as a dangerous, dirty thing to do.

I want to part ways with that narrative. Writing about it is a way to begin. I feel so lucky to live in an age in which it is possible to reach out beyond the borders of your little town to find people who also want to share their ideas and have mature conversations on the topic.

It’s far from ideal, I know, but it is a good place to start.