And just yesterday I watched a comedy on tv that deals with sex and was wondering what someone from outside of Poland would think of it. The last frame, over which the credits roll, is a still close up on a newborn baby's penis...
You know what I find most puzzling? That I can't clearly remember exactly at what age I found out about sex. It seems like a shocking thing to learn what goes in where but I can't remember a shock.
I do remember finding it strange,when I moved to Ireland in 1991, that puberty was important. I suddenly had access to magazines for girls, books on growing up that had pictures instead of lectures, a whole little world for little girls who couldn't wait to get their periods.
I didn't know what the fuss was about, but I went along with it, sniggering at nude diagrams, and completely ignoring parts of the info books that I didn't understand. Such as masturbation. The book talked about something being completely natural and okay and not to be embarrassed and I was sure it didn't concern me because I'd never felt embarrassed.
Selective, me.
(now it feels strange talking about sex to people online.
This is stuff I might do in my pyjamas drinking a bottle of wine with Estel...online feels weird.
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This is not a very coherent post. I'm just spilling out thoughts I have on the subject...
I don't think sex was ever a taboo in my house...not that we talked about it (or if we did, I can't remember) but at least having a pregnant mother means you get to learn some facts. I do remember watching that famous film that showed babies in the womb when I was very small...the doctor who delivered me brought it over on video.
My parents said 'this is a very good and beautiful and important film'. I was bored. I liked Willy Breinholst's books better.
My next door neighbour and I discussed politics (-Walesa is stupid!-No he's not, you are!) at six through the wire fence that separated our gardens. He would undo his fly and pee on his mum's radish patch without pausing the conversation. I would show him my knew knickers. Because they were pretty knickers.
That was pretty much the only penis I saw until I was 17 (if you don't count flashers...ew.). My mum never hid from us, but dad is just like me- he doesn't like to openly admit that his clothes are removeable.
So I guess I was allowed to discover for myself. But up until very very recently when I met Estel, I never would have imagined even talking about what kind of bra I was wearing. (the Amsterdamn Moot crowd will know how much I've 'evolved'.
).And it wasn't because I thought it was bad or dirty, other people could talk and it didn't bother me- I just wouldn't talk about myself at all. I was like a cartoon series hero- never changes clothes, never goes to the bathroom. And when she does, she lets the water run.
(sorry about not having a point. They call me a spammer for a reason.
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