I’ve been thinking a lot about abortion lately. Whenever I think about abortion, I think about how lucky I am that I never needed one. But it wasn’t luck that kept me from needing an abortion. It was Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood gave me free birth control when I was fifteen. But how did I know to go to Planned Parenthood? My dad told me. I don’t know that committing suicide made him a happier guy, but if he’s still hanging around, I know he’d be thrilled that I credit him for setting me on the path to a one hundred percent embryo-free life.
This is the story of my sex education in fourteen parts. (Note: I’m not using my sister’s real name.)
I.
Age three.
Setting: Sitting in the back seat of the car with my mommy while my daddy stands outside talking to the gas station attendant.
I ask my mommy where babies come from. My mommy says, “When two people love each other very much, they get married. Once they’re married, they lie down in bed together and their love turns into a baby that’s planted in the mother.”
What I learned: Mommy really DOES know everything.
II.
Age five.
Setting: Home alone with my daddy while my mommy and sister are out shopping.
Daddy decides that I need to see a “grown-man’s” penis. Daddy was always teaching me things. We used to play a game on Sunday nights called Shenanigans (named after a real game show). He would come sit on my bed to tuck me in and he would quiz me. I knew how to spell Mickey Mouse, Mississippi, and Massachusetts. M-A-S-S-A-C-H-U-S-E-T-T-S. I learned Massachusetts because that’s where I was born and where my daddy grew up. If I spelled it right, I got a kiss. If I got it wrong, we’d practice.
Daddy’s bright idea is that we take a shower together. I only took baths, so that was weird. The shower is in the basement where Mom hung walnuts to dry in old nylon stockings. None of us go down there much, and I mostly remember the lumpy legs hanging from the ceiling. So, there we are, naked in the shower. The only other times I was naked with my daddy was at the swimming pool when he took my little sister and me into the boy’s locker room to change into our suits. That was a room full of all ages of penises, but I didn’t LOOK at them. Mommy was the one who gave us our baths and dressed us.
Daddy lathers up his schlong at the same time he’s lathering up my hair with shampoo. Daddy is 6’5” and so his dick is at my eye level. I look at it while he flops it around. He doesn’t tell me anything about it. So, it’s show and not-tell.
What I learned: Daddy is really smart, but he doesn’t always make sense.
And, thank God it was never Mommy’s turn.
III.
Age ten.
Setting: Walking in the neighborhood with two of my friends.
One of them says that men stick their pee-pees inside a woman to make her pregnant.
I say, “No! That can’t be right!”
“It IS! It’s TRUE!”
I still don’t think it is. Where do they put it? In your pee-hole or your poop hole? I don’t know there is a third hole.
What I learned: I need more information.
IV.
Age ten.
Setting: All the boys stand up and leave the room and we girls stay. The health teacher comes in and shuts the door.
I learn that there IS a third hole. That I have one. That it is called a vagina. That it’s where babies come out of. And that mine will start to bleed someday. And that it’s PERFECTLY NATURAL! We also learn something about boys turning into men—but it seems like all they do is get bigger. Oh, and their voices change. We have one thing in common, though. We will all grow hair DOWN THERE. How embarrassing!!
What I learned: Sometimes they spring it on you ALL AT ONCE!
V.
Age eleven, almost twelve.
Setting: It’s summertime and my sister Laura and I have two of our friends over playing.
I see blood in my panties when I go to the bathroom. I freak out! I call Mom at work.
“Mom, I started my period!”
“You called to tell me that?”
“I don’t know what to dooooo!!!”
“Just walk down to the store and buy some pads.”
“Mommmm!”
“Just go to the store.”
“Okay.”
The four of us walk blocks and blocks down the long hill like we’re on a death march. It’s hot. I’m the first of all of us to get her period. At the store I have to find them. Kotex Sanitary Napkins. Horrors. We walk all the way back up the long hill. I carry a bag; they do not. It’s so hot. I’m still sullen, but they’ve started goofing off. I feel really old.
What I learned: Sometimes growing up is serious.
VI.
Age eleven.
Setting: In the living room, laying on the couch reading.
Mom bought us a two-volume set called the Life-Cycle Library. It has a drawing of a man’s penis inside a woman’s vagina. It’s true. It does go in there.
What I learned: Sometimes you have to see it to believe it.
VII.
Age eleven.
Setting. I’m in the bathroom. Mom is outside the door.
“Just stick it in.”
“I’m trying.”
“Just push it in there!”
“I can’t! It won’t go!”
“Oh, never mind.” I hear mom walk away.
What I learned: Once again Mom proves to me that I’m an idiot.
VIII.
Age eleven.
Setting: Backpacking on Mount Hood just above the timberline.
(Oh, I forgot to say my parents divorced ages ago when I was seven.)
I am having my period and I don’t want to go backpacking. Dad says it doesn’t matter. I go against my will. It’s messy and gross and I use a lot of lemony wipes on my hands. One morning I wake up earlier than everyone else and hike into a rocky moonscape. Everything, even me, glows rose and golden in the dawn light.
What I learned: You can probably do anything when you’re on your period.
And, what look like regular rocks from a distance turn out to be huge boulders when you get close.
IX.
Age twelve.
Setting: In Los Angeles. Dad has moved from Salem, OR to LA for work. Laura and I save our money from picking blueberries so we can buy some cute clothes while we visit. We dress up because Dad is taking us out to eat.
We drive downtown and park under a tall building. We take the elevator up and Dad shows his “key” to the bunny at the front desk. We walk down a hallway with windows on one side and a long row of portraits of women in bunny costumes with their names under them on the other. Dad says, “Heidi, you know a lot of these girls work their way through college working here.” I look at him and don’t say, “WHAT?! YOU THINK I’M GOING TO BE PRETTY ENOUGH TO BE A PLAYBOY BUNNY? AND! You think I should move to LA to study architecture and WORK HERE?”
I am suddenly and completely distracted when we’re introduced to “our” bunny. She’s blond and is in Kelly green satin. The place is pretty dark with the city lights shimmering through smoked glass windows. The only other girls besides us and the bunnies are on dates with men. We’d been to Knotts Berry Farm earlier, and gotten our pictures taken with Frankenstein at the wax museum. Now we get our picture taken with our bunny. While we eat, a band starts playing on the stage. Dad drinks scotch. Later Laura and I line up to do the BUNNY HOP with the PLAYBOY BUNNIES! Hop! Hop! Hop!
What I learned: Playboy bunnies are real human beings.
And, that I better keep getting straight ‘A’s because I’ll never be skinny enough or pretty enough to be a playboy bunny. I need a scholarship!
And, with the right outfit you can break the world.
X.
Age thirteen. (Laura is twelve.)
Setting: We are back in LA visiting Dad.
He is dating a woman named Alejandra who works at Planned Parenthood. He drops us off there for an afternoon. Alejandra gives us a tour and introduces us to her coworkers. Alejandra leaves us in a room with a lot of other girls. They are all older girls. We sit in a circle on the floor and each write a question on a piece of paper and hand it to the lady who’s leading the rap session. The lady pulls out one piece of paper at a time, reads it and answers the question. Mine is next to last. She reads, “What is a French kiss?” Everyone bursts out laughing and I turn scarlet. “A French kiss is when a boy puts his tongue in your mouth when you’re kissing.” Ew.
What I learned: My little sister knows things that I don’t.
XI.
Age fifteen.
Setting: After dark on a school night.
Laura and I take a bus downtown to Planned Parenthood. After we sit in a waiting room, my name is called. I go into a room and talk to a woman. I tell her I want birth control. She gives me two options. I can take the Pill or I can get an IUD. I’d never heard of an IUD, but it’s my style: put it in and forget about it for three years. I have to come back to get it inserted. “In the meantime,” she says, “here are some condoms to get you through.” I stare at her as she hands me a lunch sack FULL of condoms. I haven’t even had sex yet! I take them home and hide them in my closet. I eventually throw them all away.
I tell my dad about this when I’m in my fifties. He says, “She probably gave you so many because you were so pretty.” I quit talking to my dad for lots of reasons.
What I learned: This shit is EASY!
XII.
Age fifteen.
Setting: I am spending the night with my best friend Janet while her parents are out of town.
She invites her boyfriend over. He brings a friend. They are seniors; we are sophomores. I get drunk for the first time. I get stoned for the first time. The guy and I go down to the basement. I get fucked for the first time. I pretend to like it, but it hurts. The next morning we go to church. As we’re sitting there trying not to giggle, I think, Thank God, that’s over with. I mean, I don’t actually thank God. I’m just relieved.
Two weeks later my boyfriend and I do it and I pretend I’ve never done it before. He has an orange Pinto. I go to a movie with a guy who drives a burgundy Camaro. My boyfriend sees me in the Camaro and breaks up with me. The guy with the Camaro becomes my new boyfriend. My new boyfriend won’t do it with me even though I’d like to try it. I don’t do it again till college.
What I learned: Not knowing who I lost my virginity to was the most expeditious way to get it over with.
And, sex isn’t that great.
XIII.
Age sixteen.
Setting: Laying on my waterbed in the basement listening to Pink Floyd through my headphones while I read Playgirl Magazine.
Mom brought home the first Playgirl magazine with a centerfold of Burt Reynolds. I was hoping to see an erect penis, but it just lays there slumped against his leg. Boring. It’s in the later pages that I find the buried treasure—stories of women’s sexual fantasies. I convince Mom to let me subscribe. Later, I read a story by Anais Nin which sets me on a quest to read not just her erotica, but everything she’s ever written.
What I learned: Pictures of limp dicks do nothing for me.
And, stories are the key to great orgasms.
XIV
Age twenty-six.
Setting: After living in Houston and Portland, I’m working full time as a painter for the State of Texas in Austin and living in my own apartment. I’m on my third IUD.
After having sex with I don’t know how many guys over the years, I finally have my first real boyfriend, Danny. During the first six months we work together, he makes me mix-tapes that we listen to as we paint hallways, stairwells, and offices.
He woos me with Captain Beefheart, The Fugs, Johnny Thunders, The Legendary Stardust Cowboy, Les Paul, Lord Buckley, King Crimson, the Pop-O-Pies, Terry Allen, Otis Blackwell, Patsy Cline, The Shangri-Las, and Lucinda Williams.
Finally, he kisses me in the mechanical room in the basement of The Sam Houston Building. After that, he gives me a ride home every day and comes inside where we make love. Then he goes home so he can take care of his kids while his wife goes to work. His wife eventually finds out about us. But she couldn’t stand him before anyway, so she says it’s okay.
What I learned: Music is the way in.
And, sex is SO much better when you love the person you do it with.
And, why wasn’t that the FIRST THING I was taught about sex?!
What a great story!