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The theme for this week’s blog hop (brought to you by the lovely Emily and Kelly) is… wait for it… wait for it… SEX EDUCATION.

remember the time

Which is timely for me because I was JUST thinking how squeaky clean this blog has become and how there MUST be a way to dirty it up a bit!  Ah, sweet relief.  Before I go anything farther I want to note that this is NOT a family blog yet a good majority of my family read it.  Unlucky for them I have no shame and an uncontrollable desire to share my embarrassing stories from my past.

It’s ironic that I’m so forthcoming considering The Mother never did give me “The Talk” growing up and when I went to her complaining of random woman troubles she’d tell me, “Oh yea, that’s perfectly normal.”  OH REALLY?  IT’S NORMAL? Why didn’t you pass that jewel of wisdom down to this generation, HUH??

But I digress, back to the topic at hand.  I want to talk about two things, periods and hand jobs.  Because you can’t very well discuss sex ed without talking about periods.  And for the latter, well, I fear I may have unleashed the world’s worst way to get 13-year-olds clicking on and discovering my blog, but it’s something I wish I had been more informed about, so unfortunately it fits this week’s theme and it stays.  (Oh dear is right.)

The one thing I remember about sex ed is that the teacher who gave all of us girls the “Your Changing Bodies” lecture was quite old and told us how embarrassed she was that Aunt Flo didn’t make an appearance in her life until the ripe old age of 18!  She described grabbing tampons at sleepovers and making a big show of having to use the bathroom even though she was a complete menstruating fraud.  I felt really bad for this teacher; it’s clear time had not healed that wound.  I decided right then to expect the worst.

Then I got my period at age 11 and it’s all been downhill since.  I soon  figured out having a period was more painful than cool, and I vividly remember many a day of deliriously walking in circles in attempts to alleviate the turmoil in my stomach.  The Sister, close on my heels, and not about to let me do anything alone for too long, quickly joined me at menstruation station within a year.  Together we proceeded to torture ourselves and those around us for the next five years in what I like to call puberty teenage hell.

There were anti-depressants (not making light of that) and tears.  Oh the tears!  Suddenly cramps looked really good when compared to the non-stop deluge of adolescent hormones.   Somehow we managed to survive and here I am using my period as a humorous anecdote in my blog.

The only good thing about having a period at a young age was it became like an instant out at gym class.  My period decided she owed me and I got to skip lots of swimming class one semester.  I don’t think the teachers were allowed to say anything but I’m sure they got suspicious when so many of us girls had periods for three weeks in a row.  🙂

Moving on to the topic that will most likely ruin my credibility as a writer and make many of you blush… hand jobs.

I wish they had been covered in sex ed because I was terrible at them.  I didn’t want to bother asking my first and previously experienced boyfriend (because embarrassing!), so I decided to seek out help at the lunch table during school.  It soon became clear to me that this was the most elusive of the heavy petting options when none of my close girl friends wanted to discuss it with me.  Maybe they were just as inexperienced or maybe they were too embarrassed, either way I was out of luck.

Later, a trusted adult in my life once told me at an event (how vague can I be!?!) that there was no need for me to go too far with my boyfriend.  I could just “get him off with my hand,” she advised.  OH sure, I nodded along, but WHAT DID THAT MEAN?  How did it work?  Was there a correct way to go about these things?  It seemed like I was destined to not know forever.

Eventually I overcame my fears of said task and dove right in, because there was only one way I was going to find out.

I also vowed then and there to be an open book and willing to discuss personal issues with my close friends if they needed someone to talk to, and that is what’s gotten us in today’s mess post.

Do you remember anything from your sex ed classes?  Was Drama Happens ever a squeaky clean blog?  I doubt it…

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12 Responses to “DH Gets Down and Dirty”

  1. Allie

    LOL. I’m also one of those people who has no problem talking about lady biznazz/sex ed, but my MIL reads my blog, so I try to keep it PG over there. 🙂 I wish more people were willing to talk openly too, a) because it’s fun to talk about, and b) because treating periods and sex as something to be ashamed or embarrassed of does none of us any good. (I’m talking to YOU, abstinence-only education!)

    Reply
    • Stephanie

      I know! It’s all normal stuff, and it’s weird to pretend that it’s not! I struggled at first with sharing this but I think I kept it as clean as I could! 🙂

      Reply
  2. Kelly

    Squeaky clean? This coming from the girl who had a post about open marriages? 🙂

    Man, I remember wanting to get my period so badly and being jealous of my friends who got it first. And then I got it, and I was like “Why didn’t anyone tell me this sucks harder than a Dyson vacuum cleaner?”

    I just giggled about the hand job part. Because I”m immature like that :p

    Reply
  3. The Waiting

    I wish I could talk about blow jobs and hand jobs on my blog, but alas, my mom reads it and as far as she’s concerned, my daughter is a product of immaculate conception.

    Reply
    • Stephanie

      I know, dude, knowing family read my blog makes me so much more aware, but obviously it doesn’t affect too much of what I write. Oops. I think you need to start a secret R rated version of The Waiting, hehe

      Reply
  4. Danielle

    Haha, I laughed so hard at this post. I could have talked about this on my blog about a month ago, but my mom now reads it plus she shows it to her co-workers (found that out yesterday). I was one of the girls who got their period later than my friends (age 14) and I remember wanting it and then thinking well that was dumb. Periods suck. As for the hand jobs part, I am dying inside remembering the stories of the elusive hand job.

    Reply
  5. Kelly

    I should have known immediately that you were pals with Emily and Kelly, what with your taking the time to say hello and all! Now, I’M excited to look around. 🙂

    Reply
  6. Christiane

    LOL LOVE IT ! I had sex ed classes at school but they only focused on diseases and STDs. My parents never gave me the Talk per se. They gave me a book about sex so that was my Talk lol.

    About hand jobs, ummm…(blushing)…all i can say Thank God for the Internet and my husband lol !

    Reply

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