We knew there was a much bigger issue to tackle, something called S-E-X

A while back at our very first Chaos Thaoghaire (more like a test-run) we told stories about ‘first tries’ (appropriate because it was our first try at hosting an event). I stood up and told a fairly ridiculous and embarrassing story about my first kiss. The story was heavily influenced by childhood friend Brigit Eno – Brigit was the kind of friend who was willing to help you solve all of life’s mysteries, and was pretty sure she had a lot of the answers. To tell you the truth we were both just very creative and very eager be considered sophisticated by our friends.

Naive children we were not – we were poets, possibly on the verge of great beauty (as soon as the braces come off, the spots clear up, the boobs fill in, my mom lets me pick out my own clothes and someone can teach me to walk in heels, I’ll show them!!!), and most importantly we took ourselves seriously (you set yourself up for failure at 13 if you try and take yourself seriously, but everyone does).

The thing about Brigit is that, following her mother’s remarriage, she had moved to our neighborhood from another school – one where the other students were clearly twice as sophisticated as our lot, apparently they were basically like the cast of 90210 (a show I was NOT allowed to watch) only they weren’t all white and rich. Between Brigit’s wealth of knowledge and connections and my insatiable quest for knowledge we were fast friends, and by age 13 we had tackled first kisses and were preparing to enter high school, where we knew there was a much bigger issue to tackle, something called S-E-X. Here is what we heard from a friend of a friend whose older cousin knew the deal: Apparently people in high school do it all the time. In fact, they even did it at school, all over the place, in front of each other, we had this on good authority.

We spent many Saturday nights truth-or-dare quizzing everyone we knew trying to get the facts straight, highlighting passages in magazines, and watching films that might offer us some insight if we could manage to get them past her mother, who was worried about us growing up too fast, but slightly less mortifying to bring into a video store than my own parents.

I would say by the end of the summer we had some facts sorted out…

Facts About Sex According to My 13-Year-Old Self:

1. It is actually true that some people have sex in their mouths. Seriously.
2. Sex involves moving around, which goes against what I understood a few years ago when Barbie’s were placed face-to-face against one another for approximately a minute and a baby got made.
3. People put their sperm into things so they don’t have babies. They call these things tampons.
4. From a magazine article we concluded people touch each other’s ‘parts’, they don’t just remove clothes, stand close to each other and allow nature to take its course, as previously understood.
5. There is something called a ‘boner’ that happens to boys. It sticks out.

Brigit and I and other girlfriends had also speculated on other possibilities, such as the what-goes-where issue, but mainly we had a lot of questions. Do people talk during (though my friend from the Catholic school was certain that nice girls close their eyes and say nothing, possibly kiss during), do you stay under the covers or would a boy really see you naked, what does a P look like, how exactly are boobs involved, and is it true boys sometimes pee in the girls V (one friend ASSURED us this is how sperm goes in). When Brigit announced her older half-sister was coming for a visit I was sure we had answers – this was the sister who had once told us all the precautionary advice we needed for kissing. Her sister arrived and set up in Brigit’s room, and a few days into the visit Brigit surfaced with answers.

We met in the park, gathered together on a blanket on a quiet grassy knoll, someone brought snacks their mother packed for our “picnic”, and someone had smuggled along a single cigarette. Sophisticated women that we were we prepared ourselves to finally learn The Truth. Her explanation went something like this:

It’s hard, the boy is, and it goes in (how? I donno, like a hotdog in a bun sort of. Oh.) And it moves around and you kiss with tongue. Then inside every girl is a red ball called a cherry and when it goes in the cherry explodes and there is blood EVERYWHERE (wait, really? Yes really, my sister told me!). Then it’s over and you go to sleep.

(Oh.)

Mystery solved. My facts about sex list could be completed. Yet somehow I suspected we were missing some important details. Nonetheless it was something to go on. It was like learning that Haley Mills played both characters in the original Parent Trap – shocking at first but quickly you see how non-earth-shattering and somewhat obvious it was all along. The exploding cherry was a worry, but as long as we were prepared it was better than the poor girls who went into things with no idea. I’d like to say this was the end of the obsession, but quite frankly it was merely the beginning, and now at 25 I am still going to great lengths to get as much information as possible, and we arrive at Sex Chaos.

I hope this month’s story tellers will help me fill in those gaps, until then perhaps a “game” of sorts – Chaos readers, please add to my list; “Facts About Sex from my Younger Self” (state the age you were when the fact seemed relevant, then present us with you best facts, myths and misunderstandings in the comments below). I look forward to some brilliant over-shares while we anticipate what things will be learned from Sex Chaos in February!