I'm Just Waiting To Be 85 And

But I Am A Girl With A Keen Interest In Having It All, And What Follows Are Hopeful Dispatches From The Frontlines Of That Struggle.

I Feel Like So Much More Than My Gender And So Much More Than My Relationship To My Body And My Relationship To Men. And, But Suddenly You're Sort Of Asked To Be An Expert.

I Still Go To A Party And Say Something Embarrassing To Someone, And Then Write Them A Weird E-mail About It The Next Day, And Then Write Them A Text Because I Think They Didn't Get The E-mail. No Matter What Happens With Your Level Of Success, You Still Have To Deal With All The Baggage That Is Yourself.

I Remember It Made Me Feel Better Because So Many Of My Friends At School. Were Doing That Stuff And Doing That Stuff On Sleep Overs. But I Just Didn't Feel Ready. It Wasn't Like I Had Any Judgment Of It Being Two Women. It Would Have Scared Me As Much If Not More. I Was Like A Three Month Period In Which All The Words Sleep Over Was Code For Was "let's Get Together And Touch Each Other's Vaginas." And I Was. Haunted. And I Remember Going Home And Feeling Like I Couldn't Tell My Mother Even Though She Would've Understood And Probably Laughed.

I Didn't Tell Him I Was A Virgin, Just That I Hadn’t Done It “that Much.” It Hurt A Little More Than I'd Expected But In A Different Way, And He Was Nervous Too And He Never Came. Afterwards We Lay There And Talked, And I Could Tell He Was A Really Nice Person. I Commended Myself For Making A Healthy, Albeit Hasty, Partner Choice. I Really Couldn't Wait To Tell My Mom.