Last night, I had a really great conversation with my friend Adam. I mentioned on my about page that “I find that I can talk to him about a lot of things.”

Well, let me tell you something about me and Adam. Adam and I share what is probably the coolest friendship in the history of the world. Adam thinks it’s because we’ve dated in the past, so all that sexual tension is just gone. Poof. As he put it, we can talk about anything at all without him thinking “I want to do her.” It’s pretty damn cool.

Many of our conversations end up revolving around sex. It’s ironic because as a couple, we never got farther than cuddling and making out. There weren’t any opportunities for anything else.

I think everyone needs that friend they can talk to about anything, and even more so when it comes to talking about sexual themes. Someone who is open-minded, won’t judge, and contributes with his or her own thoughts and experiences about sex. And there has to be trust. No worrying about if said friend will turn around and repeat what you just said to everyone he or she knows. Adam is one of those friends for me. I don’t know why I can trust him so much more than the rest of my friends, or why these things are so much easier to talk about with him, but I’m not complaining.

Last night, we covered a lot of sexual topics. We talked about hooking up, hand jobs, bras… the list goes on and on. Over the course of it all, I ended up telling him something that I had never told anyone in my life. It was something that had been in the back of my mind for a while, but that didn’t become explicitly clear to me until I talked with him last night. Don’t get too excited; I’m not going to publish it here. It’s not something that even needs to be said, but telling it to Adam helped me to be a lot more honest in our conversation.

I was actually so astounded by the conversation we had last night that I kept thinking about it again throughout the day today. It’s not that I haven’t had such conversations with him (or others) before, but it reminded me just how much I can trust him and how much I open up when I talk with him.

What I think I’m trying to say is that I’m grateful to have a friend like Adam, and I’m glad I didn’t just throw away our friendship after we stopped dating. Who says two people can’t stay friends after breaking up? Not me.

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When I first went on Omegle.com, I was filled with wonder and curiosity about random people I would come across on the internet. Where would they be from? What would they be like? Maybe I’d meet someone new and maybe someone else interested in web design.

Let’s face it: I was just bored of my brains and curious as hell – which, let me tell you – is an awful combination.

The first person I talked to was “some guy” with terrible grammar. One of my pet peeves. Cringe. I could hardly stand talking to him because of that. My eyes were bleeding out of their sockets. The guy became boring to talk to, so I left and connected with a new person.

(My younger brother used to think the word “connected” was the dirtiest word. He must have been horny as hell, even at 13 or whatever his age was back then… because “to connect” apparently meant to “have sex”.)

After being bored time and time again, I came across someone who claimed to be male and horny. I let him type whatever he wanted, and I felt dirty afterwards. I swear to Cow, every time I watch something sexual, do something a little dirty, read something related to intercourse or am just in any kind of position (excuse the pun, please) like that… I feel really dirty and gross afterwards.

The way the guy did it was vulgar. The words he said – the likes of “tittyfuck” and “anal” made me extremely uncomfortable. But, as my curiosity took over big time, I just sat there reading the words on the screen.

I’m a visual person. It didn’t help at all. The experience was a little scarring, and visualising it tore a vivid memory into my brain.

Jeremy and I haven’t always been comfortable talking about sex. I mean, we’re the same age, we see each other almost every day at university, and we talk online nearly every day. Since we became closer I guess it just became a part of conversation several times. It’s awkward though, let me tell you, because I have Wil, and we’ve done a few “naughty things”.

I’ve discussed sex with my best friend Bethany (I’ll talk about her more in later posts…) but it’s not a regular topic of discussion.

Now I come to a little confession…

Bored out of my brains + curious as hell = awful combination, right?

That, again, got me in a sticky situation. Through instant messaging, I tried to make Jeremy “shut up”. He’s got a habit of teasing me.

“Can I make you shut up?” I asked.
He gave me his permission and using the action features I typed “Audrey grabs Jeremy and kisses him”.

You can guess. It went on. It was intense, and we were writing a little story right then and there. It just… happened. Kisses on the neck, touching one another’s backs… kind of like imagining sex for the first time. Not vulgar and disgusting, but beautiful and sweet. Out of the action-text, he even asked me how I’d like it (he remembers I hate the idea of blowjobs, wow?)… where I wanted to be touched…

I remember Jeremy saying the next day, “We… umm… made e-love…”

A lovely way of putting it. Maybe I’d consider that the day I lost my e-virginity… What came out of this, really, is that I know I can trust someone on a level of friendship to talk on a level like this. I don’t know if that’s a gift or a catalyst for anarchy… but I don’t think it’s the latter.

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Growing up, whenever I was curious to learn more about my body parts & how babies were made I’d ask my parents. They knew I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for “the stork” story let alone Santa Claus so they gave me the biological truth. My dad always answered, “it’s when the sperm meets the egg,” which always prompted me to ask, “…but where is the sperm & where is the egg…?” I never got an answer & I remember asking my parents quite often. I used to ask them how little humans were created at dinner, but they always gave me the same reply. They never answered my second question & told me to stop talking so I could finish my dinner.

My 7 year old self was incredibly frustrated. What the heck was sperm? I knew what an egg was; it tasted great in the morning. Contrary to my last sentence, I never thought humans were related to poultry. I knew which sex had which gamete because of my mom yet I was never told where these gametes were located nor how they met. One afternoon, I had a revelation that I thought was too crazy not to tell my mom. While she was sitting on the toilet, I went up to her & said to her, “hey mommy, when you think about it, don’t you think a boy’s private parts fit perfectly with a girl’s private parts? Kind of like a hot dog in its bun?” My mom yelled at me for saying such “rubbish” & I felt like I just said my favorite country is Barbie in a presentation to my entire class. I walked away with my head slinking low thinking to myself, “I can’t be wrong, the parts fit like puzzle pieces!”

To say the least, I was a very sheltered child. Up until the 7th grade, I never fully understood the entire concept of sex. I understood that two people got naked & made out, but I had no idea that the penis went inside the vagina. My school didn’t offer any type of sex education; a bit ridiculous considering that my parents paid $7,000 per year for it. We surprisingly weren’t taught abstinence only either. When it came to the subject of sex or science, my school fell short by 20 km.

I first got a glimpse of what sex looked like when I watched this scene from an action movie. It wasn’t some 10 second TV show sex scene, it was a softcore porn scene. It made me feel tingly & I didn’t understand what was going on down below. When I was channel surfing one night, I stumbled upon this documentary on sex. I saw maybe 5 minutes of it before I switched the channel in fear of getting caught. It was only then that I fully understood the concept of sex & where the sperm & the egg live.

Throughout my years in high school, my parents never once gave me “the talk”. Not even one slightest hint of, “Jackie, you’re going to encounter some really horny teenage boys that want to put something in you, but you shouldn’t…because you’ll get Chlamydia & die.” Had they actually sat down & talked to me about sex, I wouldn’t have gave my virginity away to someone my friends nicknamed, “the pedophile”.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew full well at 15 going on 16 what sex was. I was told to save myself until I was married the way my parents did until I met Sam, the pedophile. I decided that I didn’t want to have sex until I thought I found love. Sam was my first love, first kiss, & unfortunately, my very first. I could say that he wasn’t very good in bed, that his penis was about 10-11 cm (4-4.5 inches), or that he lasted for 5 minutes, but none of those facts could erase the worst mistake of my life. I wasn’t even officially his girlfriend when we had sex–I just thought I loved him. I didn’t think he was “the one”, but I thought it was love. Shortly afterward, I realized that I didn’t love him anymore & that I deserved better. The pedophile cheated on me with several different girls over the course of 2 years, but I was too stupid & naive to leave him.

Had my parents actually been more open to talking to me about my future with boys & sex, I would’ve known better. I would’ve been able to come to my mom & tell her about the guys I liked instead of keeping my flings a secret. I only had sex with Sam once & hadn’t slept with anyone else until Justin. I told myself that I wouldn’t give myself away like that until I believed I met the guy I’d eventually marry. 3 years of celibacy later, I met Justin.

Just 2 weeks ago, my mom blatantly told me she knew I was having sex. I don’t know how she knows because it’s not like she ever caught us in the act; she probably assumed. I was speechless & let’s face it, I’m a horrible liar & I’m a bit old to be denying my sexual activity with my gorgeous man. I didn’t say anything, but neither did my mom. She didn’t give me “the talk”, she didn’t tell me to use condoms, she didn’t tell me she didn’t approve, she didn’t say anything at all. She’s lucky that I took an intro to Human Sexuality class & that I know how to baby/STI proof myself. Even though I know how to protect myself & Justin, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate “the talk”. After all, I never got it before & I may be too old to receive it, but it’s better late than never. It’s advantageous to show your daughter that you want to make sure she’s making good choices than avoiding the topic.

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