In my house sex was not discussed. Unfortunately, I was also a woman who developed early, so when the milestones of a young girl's life came, I was unprepared.

I remember my first bra. I was 10 years old. My grandmother looked at me one day and said, "We are going shopping." It was strange, because other than the yearly trips shopping for school clothes, my grandmother hardly ever left her house. She took me down the street to the store and bought me three bras, size 36A.

A few months later at Easter, this same grandmother pointed me in the direction of the bathroom, gave me a bar of soap and a razor and told me to shave under my arms. It was always like that, no discussion, no explanation, just someone finally realizing that I was not the same little girl anymore. Getting my period was another of these little introductions. This time even I didn't notice. I thought I had peed my pants. No one had told me differently.

Maybe that is why, when a little over a year and a half after I got my first period I was still as innocent as a little girl. It didn't last much past that though. When I was 12 years old I was placed in a foster home and then in a sort of reform school. No, I wasn't a bad child. I didn't know how to be. There was just no other place for me.

I remember the girls I lived with decided to undertake my education. Well, the points they saw as lacking anyway. They taught me how to swear, and fight. I learned on my own that if I stood up for myself, maybe I wouldn't have to fight. They even taught me about sex.

I didn't tell them that I was still a virgin. That would have been unthinkable, besides I made sure it did not last too many months longer. Anything was fair game in these conversations. Lockerroom talk between guys is supposed to be bad; they have nothing on these girls. The topic that never came up was "gays" or "lesbians" or whatever they called themselves. It was never discussed. It was not taboo; it just was.

I remember the first time I saw two girls kissing. I can still picture them today, Elaine and Kelly. I walked into the bathroom and saw them and turned around and walked back out. I wasn't shocked or disgusted, just thought they might like some privacy. *l* It didn't cross my mind that this was wrong. Why should it have? No one had ever told me so. I had a roommate a little while later. In the three weeks that she was my roommate she spent maybe two nights in our room. The rest she spent with her girlfriend. I even wrote one of my first poems about one of their fights.

I learned about sex. I learned about the girls that liked each other. I learned that a lot of people didn't like that. I never developed that hate, or disgust, or any negative feelings about gays and lesbians. I always tell people that it is because I knew people who were gay before I knew what it was.

Maybe, if the world was filled with more of that innocent ignorance, instead of the prejudicial kind, we might all be better off.
 
 

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