wish there were more helpful guides about life with an IUD. I've had three at this point, two hormonal, and my period stopped a long time ago. But now I've got to figure out if weird shit that's happening is related to what would be my period, is this cramping from cysts or is it stress trying to bring my cycle back? Is this extra wetness period related or hyperhidrosis? Was the several day bleeding after my pap smear and heavy cramping a significant problem? If my boobs hurt randomly, is that the IUD hormones or my period hormones? If I were to get pregnant with an IUD, god forbid, how would I know, since all guides ask me to track a period I haven't had in two years?

It Took One Night - William Nylander (Part 4)

A/N: So, I was really uninspired writing this so I’m really sorry if it’s shit. Also I was in a bad mood when I wrote the last part of this SO just excuse me venting through two fictional characters lol 

Word Count: 3.6k 

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy, A Lot of talk about Vomiting, One mention of Divorce (I think that’s all but if I missed anything tell me) 

It’d been a few days, and you still hadn’t gotten your period. You were lucky that your cycle was always pretty regular, so it finally dawned on you that your increased workload was very unlikely to be causing all this chaos in your body. Denial was no longer an option and as you put the pieces of the puzzle together; sore boobs, exhaustion, nausea, vomiting, and your missing period, it didn’t take long before you were freaking the fuck out.

You couldn’t be pregnant. On the numerous occasions you and William had had sex, you’d used a condom everytime – and you were on the pill. Well, you thought you had every time. The problem was your memory was still blurry from the night you hooked up at Lyla’s party, and you were both obliterated so maybe you’d both got toocaught up in the moment? Come to think of it, you didn’t remember seeing a wrapper discarded on the floor when you were getting your shit together the morning after.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

To be honest, you didn’t want to accept that this could actually be a possibility so you spent a few more days building a wall of denial and trying to distract yourself. Besides, you’d organised a date with a guy, Ryan, that you’d been talking to on tinder and you really didn’t want to cancel. It was your chance to forget about William and keep putting your potential pregnancy on the backburner.

The only problem was, your nausea and vomiting were getting worse. You really wanted to kill the person that coined the term ‘morning sickness’ because it plagued you all day. You were running in and out of the bathroom at work for a solid hour, and sculling water because it was the only thing you could keep down, before Mandy told you to go home and rest. Knowing how understaffed the café was at the moment, you felt terrible about leaving but you didn’t dare say no after Mandy jokingly threatened to kick your ass if she didn’t receive a snapchat from you in the next thirty minutes that showed you almost asleep in bed.

On your drive home you finally accepted that you definitely needed to take a pregnancy test, as much as you didn’t want to. So you drove to the store closest to your flat, only having to stop once to let a wave of nausea pass, and bought three pregnancy tests. With the amount of denial that was still in your mind, you’d probably have to use all three to convince yourself either way.

Thankfully when you got home, Madison was at work so you wouldn’t have to explain yourself to anyone – yet. You grabbed you water bottle out of the fridge, needing it to both settle your stomach and make you need to pee. Although, the latter wasn’t much of a problem as you’d always been a nervous pee-er and you’d never been more nervous in your life.

Taking the first pregnancy test felt like an outer body experience, like you still hadn’t fully grasped that you were actually doing this. It felt so strange, you’d never had to take one before as you’d never had a pregnancy scare before. Although it wasn’t complicated, you just needed to pee on the damn stick, you were worried that somehow you were going to fuck it up and screw the result up. It sounded insane but you were terrified, and you were starting to wish you had someone here with you that would ask you if you were alright.

You set the timer for three minutes on your phone. The longest three minutes of your life. In three minutes you’d find out whether you’re denial had been worth it, or if you’d just been delaying the inevitable. In that time, every outcome, every potential future situation buzzed around in your head, giving you such a headache that you hadn’t even realised the timer on your phone had gone off. When you finally snapped out of your trance, you let your alarm ding for a couple more breaths. You didn’t want to look but you knew you had to.

Standing up slowly, you stopped the timer and kept your eyes focused on the bathroom mirror, taking a few deep breaths before you finally let your head falter and look down at the pregnancy test.

Positive.

Still holding out hope that it could be a false positive, you took the other two tests you’d purchased and placed them alongside the first one. You would do anything for a negative test. This wasn’t something you needed in your life right now. A baby, like an actual living, breathing human that would rely on you, and you could hardly look after yourself as it was.

When the timer went off again you didn’t hesitate like you did the first time, snatching both tests off the vanity in a split second.

They were both positive. They were allpositive.

Fuck.

A wave of nausea hit you like a ton of bricks, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t because of the thing growing inside of you. You threw up one last time into the toilet, before sinking against the wall, letting every emotion flood you and it didn’t take long before you were drenched in your own tears. Your face was red, eyes swollen and your work shirt was now wet and covered in snot. Your sobs echoed off the tiled walls and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, trying to console yourself since there was no one else there to do it.

What the fuck were you going to do?

You couldn’t have a baby. You weren’t financially stable, you didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life yet and, your parents – well, you’d be joining your sister in the disowned and disappointed pile. Tossed away like an old toy. Toys. Baby’s needed toys. Fuck, your brain was already starting to link every word you said to what you need to buy or do for a baby. With that, you let yourself cry even more than you’d already done. You were overwhelmed and didn’t know how you were supposed to get past this, hell you didn’t even know how you were going to tell William.

William.

What was he going to say? He’d probably think you were some gold-digging whore who was just after a bit of cash, especially after you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be in a relationship. He was going to hate you – if he didn’t already.

After you’d spent about an hour emptying your tear ducts, you’d cried yourself to a level of emotional exhaustion you’d never experienced before. All you wanted to do now was sleep, and enter the land of dreams where you could be blissfully ignorant of your nightmarish reality for a couple of hours. So, you picked yourself up off the bathroom floor, making sure to take your tests with so you could hide them away in your locked drawer, and landed on your bed with a dramatic thud. You buried yourself under the covers as you heard Madison come through the front door, pretending to be asleep when she poked her head in your bedroom to see if you were home. You didn’t have to pretend for long, as the thoughts in your head eventually surrendered and you drifted off in a blissful ignorance.

Waking up in the morning, your eyes were still swollen from crying and they stung horribly when you stupidly rubbed them. Then you remembered that your tinder date was tonight, and you were seriously considering cancelling. It would be the normal thing to do, except your brain was telling you that you needed to go out and have a little fun. Who knows when you’ll get to do that again? Besides, Ryan wouldn’t know (and didn’t need to know) that you were pregnant so what harm could it do?

So, later that day you were attempting to doll yourself up for a date that would hopefully put a smile on your face. You decided on wearing a black and white striped bandeau midi dress, with horizontal stripes across the bust while the remainder of the dress was vertical stripes. It wasn’t anything fancy, and it was surprisingly comfortable which suited you well since you really didn’t want anything putting any pressure on your stomach. You grabbed a pair of strappy black heels, and half-heartedly put some makeup on and brushed your hair – not even bothering to style it properly. Despite your eagerness earlier, you were starting to regret this date and you hadn’t even left your flat yet.

You took a cab to the restaurant, and was pleasantly surprised to see Ryan standing outside waiting for you. He looked even more attractive in person, his dark curls catching your attention immediately as you connected with his hazel eyes, before you traced his toned figure with your eyes, locking on his large hands momentarily. As lovely as he was to look at, you just hoped he was as nice as he came across in his messages.

You smiled at Ryan, as he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek and said hi. As he did so, you got a smell of his cologne and had to stop yourself from gagging. This nausea thing was getting old real quickly.

“How are you doing?”

“Yeah, I’m great thanks” you replied, a fake smile plastered on your face as you lied through your teeth.

“Uh, should we go inside? I’m starving” Ryan asked, as you realised you hadn’t even asked how he was. God he must think you’re a right snob.

“Yeah, yeah definitely” you answered, trying not to think about all the different food aromas that would morph together and drive your insides insane.

Once you’d been seated you and Ryan started talking about everything going in each other’s lives (well, not exactly everything), and it was all fine to start off with. Until you realised he was completely in love with himself, and didn’t know when to stop talking. In so many words, he pretty much said that you were really lucky to be here with him tonight because he had so many girls begging to go out with him. Awesome. You were on a date with a man child. Now you were really regretting not cancelling when you had the chance.

While you waited for your food to arrive, and for the waiter to serve as a pleasant interruption, you blocked out Ryan’s droning voice and instead found yourself thinking about William. If you hadn’t have told him you didn’t want a relationship, maybe you could’ve been on a date with him right now instead of this self-obsessed moron. William definitely wouldn’t have been talking about himself, most likely asking you every question under the sun so he’d have more stuff to playfully tease you about. It was until now that you realised how much you actually missed being around him, and it was just because you were pregnant. Everything had felt so easy with him, you could talk about anything, laugh at each other and you didn’t once feel afraid to be vulnerable around him. You’d give anything to swap Ryan out with William right now, even though you still had no idea how you were going to tell him you were pregnant.

You brought your mind back to the present, and weren’t surprised to hear Ryan still going on about himself. If you’d had a bread roll you would’ve shoved it in his mouth with no hesitation.

Thankfully, the waiter came over with your food and were grateful that the interruption shut Ryan up for a minute. The only problem was that at the mere sight of a plateful of food, your insides were starting to churn. You’d never turned your nose up at a piece of steak before but right now it looked and smelt like the most unappetising slice ever. While Ryan dug into his own piece of steak, you cut yours up into tiny pieces and pushed it around your plate, hoping it would disappear so you wouldn’t have to eat any.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Ryan asked through a mouthful of a steak.

Charming.

“I had a big lunch, sorry”.

“I’m not paying for your meal if you’re not even going to eat it” he practically spat at you.

What a gentleman.

You sighed heavily, talking yourself out of pouring your glass of water over his head, and reluctantly put a piece in your mouth. As you tried to chew just one snippet of steak, you could feel your mouth starting to water, the same way it always did when you were about to throw up. Maybe, if you could just swallow this one piece the sensation would go away. So you swallowed, feeling every inch of it make its way down your throat – before it started to come back up again.

Fuck.

Panicking, you grabbed your clutch and a napkin and covered your mouth, managing to blurt out a muffled “I have to go to the bathroom” before you ran off and into the nearest stall. By this point, you had had enough of throwing up every time you so much as looked at food and now you’d managed to make a scene during everyone’s dinner.

There was no way you were going back out there, specially without gargling some water and scrubbing the hell out of your teeth with a toothbrush. You grabbed your clutch, pulled your phone out and rang Madison who, thankfully, picked up on the first ring. You explained that you were holed up in the restaurant bathroom, and that you must’ve eaten something bad – you weren’t telling her you were pregnant over the phone. Madison told you to hang tight and she’d be there as soon as possible, and you could actually hear her rushing around grabbing her keys and running out the door before you hung up. Thank god for Madison.

After about fifteen minutes, Madison came bursting into the bathroom and found you sitting in the stall, searching for just one single mint in your clutch.

“Fuck am I glad to see you” you said to Madison, giving up on your search for a minute you knew probably wasn’t even there.

“Ok so I told him that you had food poisoning from something I cooked you, which if we’re being honest is probably what actually happened” she explained.

You smiled at Madison, “Thanks Madi”.

You felt guilty for letting her think that it was her fault that your date had been ruined, but you really didn’t want to explain everything to her in a restaurant bathroom. So, Madison helped you splash some water on your face and when she pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste you could’ve kissed her.

On the drive home the guilt was starting to eat away at you, mainly because Madison was planning all the ways she could make up for accidentally ruining your date. Even though she was your best friend, you were slightly terrified about telling her because of how close she is to both you and William. What if she thought you did it on purpose? You knew it was stupid and that Madison would never react like that, but nonetheless it was still daunting. Regardless, she deserved to know the truth.

Before you spilled your guts to Madison, you jumped in the shower, wanting to have some time to yourself to figure out how exactly you were going to tell her. You didn’t do much thinking as the hot water running down your back felt so heavenly that you wouldn’t have been surprised if you fell asleep.

When you eventually dragged yourself out of the shower, you went and sat on the couch next to Madison, still wearing your towel.

“I need to tell you something”

Madison looked at you with wide eyes, “Shit, why so serious?”

“It wasn’t your cooking that made me sick”

Madison scoffed, “you don’t need to lie to make me feel better ok, I know my cooking is fucking shit and that’s why I usually order takeout when it’s my turn”

“I’m pregnant”

You narrowly dodged the soda that Madison had just spat out of her mouth.

“You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant” you repeated, surprisingly calm.

Madison leant back against the couch and looked at you, “Holy fuck”

“Yeah” you replied, nodding your head.

It was obvious that Madison was in shock because she kept blinking, something she always did when she was trying to come to grips with something unexpected.

“How long have you known?”

“Since yesterday. I mean I did the tests yesterday but I guess I knew before then, I was just in denial”

“Wait a second, wait a damn second. Is it Willy’s? It’s Willy’s isn’t it!?” she half yelled.

“I mean yeah but- ”

“Have you told him? Y/N you have to tell him! Seriously, this is huge for him”

“Hang on, what do you mean it’s huge for him?” you asked, bemused at why she seemed to only be concerned about William.

“It’s a baby Y/N? He’s a professional athlete, he doesn’t need any distractions from his career – this could screw him for good!”

You were the closest you’d ever come to slapping a friend before.

“Are you fucking serious right now!?” you screamed at Madison. “It’s huge for him? It could screw his life? What about me, Madison!? You don’t think this isn’t fucking huge for me too? I have this thing inside of me and I have no fucking idea what to do about it!”

“Relax ok, I was just saying that I think it’s gonna affect Willy in a lot more ways than you”

Now you were raging.

“I can’t believe you right now” you scoffed, glaring across at Madison. “I’m not saying that it’s not going to affect him but I would like to point out something you know damn well, unless you paid zero attention in biology, that I’m the one who has to CARRY the baby and GIVE BIRTH to it ok?”

Madison rolled her eyes, “you’re being a bit dramatic now. You’ll be fine, and I’m sure William will give you whatever you want”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying that it’s a bit weird that you didn’t want to be in a relationship with him but now you’re having his baby”

“I swear to god if you don’t take that back right now”

“You’ll what Y/N? We all know you weren’t interested in him, so it’s not hard to put the pieces together and realise that you like the lifestyle he has” Madison spat at you, so nonchalantly.

You honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now. Why the fuck was she speaking to you this way?

“I’m seriously done talking to you now. I don’t know who you are, so let me know when the real Madison comes back” you said, getting up and walking towards your bedroom.

Madison rolled her eyes, “real mature Y/N. Always running away from your problems. Just like you followed me out here like a lost puppy dog because your parents didn’t give a fuck about you-”

“SHUT UP” you screamed. “Don’t you everthrow that back in my face! You know the shit my sister and I have been through, so the fact that you can just sit there and say that when I need support now more than ever, says a lot about who you really are”.

“Oh and who am I then?”

“Well half an hour ago you were the person that came and rescued me from the restaurant, now you’re a selfish bitch that’s stuck so far up William’s ass you’ve forgotten who was there for you when your jackass boyfriend left you, or when your parents got divorced”.

“Funny, I didn’t know I was friends with a gold digger either”

You stood there in shock. You couldn’t believe she’d actually called you that. Your best friend, the one person who you thought would have your back in this situation just called you a gold digger.

You wiped away the tears the had escaped from your eyes after hearing that come from her mouth, before whispering “I’m done” and going to your bedroom, slamming the door for good measure.

Your brain was spinning. Honestly, you couldn’t figure out why Madison had reacted the way she had and why it had suddenly gotten so personal. Surely she wasn’t jealous? She’s insane if she is since this is hardly a situation that you wished upon yourself.

Fuelled by adrenaline from your fight with Madison, you grabbed your laptop and booked a one-way flight to New York. You were getting out of here and you wanted to be with the one person who knew exactly what you were going through – your big sister. Although it was late, you text Mandy and said there was a family emergency so you weren’t sure when you’d be back at work. To be honest, you weren’t sure if you’d be back at all. The one thing Madison had said that was true, was that you always ran away from your problems and that’s exactly what you were doing now. You sat there throwing anything and everything into your suitcase so you didn’t have to rush in the morning, hating Madison for being right about you when it came to dealing with adversity. Her words weren’t going to change your mind though. Running had worked well for you up until now, so you didn’t see any need to stick around and watch the life you’d fought so hard to have, crumble to pieces.

I want to tell a story about this little girl and how she has saved me from my own mind. After ending an abusive relationship my anxiety grew to an all time high. I had panic attacks every single night. Some nights I spent sleeping on the bathroom floor because those attacks would affect my body in terrible ways and sometimes I couldn't stop vomiting. I had never been alone before and I was so young and so afraid of the world. I couldn't afford my apartment without him and I knew I was going to end up losing it. I started failing my classes because the anxiety consumed me and I couldn't leave my house. It wasn't even a week before the night terrors started. These weren't your average bad dreams. These were all of my most deepest and darkest fears becoming reality. They were so vivid I would wake up thinking they actually happened. Most of the dreams that were reoccurring involved my three year old baby brother. In one we would be playing in the front yard kicking a ball back and forth. I accidentally would kick the ball too hard and it would roll out into the street where my little baby brother would run to chase it. Every single time I knew what was going to happen but I couldn't change the course of the dream. Every single time he would run for the ball and get smashed by a semi. There was another where I was driving over a bridge and hydroplaned and drove off the edge and into the water. The car was sinking but I couldn't get my seat belt off in time. It was always stuck and no matter how hard I pulled the dream always ended the same way; with me looking back at my little brother so innocent and so helpless in his car seat and looking at his big sister hoping and pleading and needing me to help him. But I never could. I always watched him die and I always couldn't help. They weren't always about him. Sometimes I would dream that I was on fire. I can remember the heat, it was the most painful experience of my life and it wasn't even real. But it was. I was screaming and in total darkness. There was no one around to hear me, much less help me and the only light came from the flames that were burning my body. I remember trying to peel the flames from myself, scrambling, trying to do anything that I could to make it stop. I would always look down and I would always see the same thing; I wasn't peeling away the flames, I was peeling away my own burning flesh. Sometimes they were about my dogs. I'd come home and find that someone had broken into my home and put my tiny little Pomeranian in the microwave. These dreams haunted me for almost two years. I had gotten a new boyfriend and the relationship was healthy. He was always there to soothe me, to help bring me away from the terror and calm me and hold me and speak to me and tell me everything was alright. They only got more terrifying as time went by; more vivid, more realistic. I didn't have insurance and couldn't afford medical help so I had to live through it. I felt helpless and alone and afraid always, awake or asleep. I lived in fear of going to sleep because I knew what would happen when I closed my eyes. So I lived my life confined to my little trailer, taking online classes from home which I inevitably failed. My gpa was a 1.8. I was a straight a student in high school but not anymore. I hated myself. I hated my brain. I hated my life. Then one day, they stopped. I went to sleep and woke up the next morning feeling rested which is something I hadn't felt in almost two years. I stretched and looked outside and was happy to see the sun shining and the bird chirping. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't anxious. I was alive and I felt a sense of freedom I had never felt before. I had no dreams the next night either. Or the next. Or the next. I thought they had gone away by chance or by miracle which I had never believed in before. Four weeks went by and still no night terrors. I was feeling better every day. More alive. More healthy. More human. I wasn't having panic attacks like before. Eventually, I wasn't afraid to go to sleep. I wasn't forcing myself to stay away for days on end because I was confident that I'd be able to sleep without anything terrible happening. One day a month after the first time I slept without night terrors, I was hanging out with my boyfriends family, smoking on their porch. Laughing, talking, living. My boyfriends mother asked me if I had gotten my period. Her, my boyfriends younger sister, and myself have always been on the same cycle and I was always the first to get my period. Theirs would almost always come in the following days. I told her that I hadn't yet and she had told me that herself and her daughter already had and asked me what day I was supposed to start. Because I generally didn't keep up with it, I was unsure. I wasn't concerned because I was enjoying my new life with much less anxiety than before. I hadn't even thought about it. She sent my boyfriend to the store to buy a pregnancy test and I went into the bathroom completely positive that it would be negative. Almost instantly the test showed positive results but I waited patiently the three minutes the directions said thinking confidently the results would somehow change by the end of the allotted time. They didn't. I took the test into the living room where my boyfriend was sitting and handed it to him. He was instantly excited but I was instantly panicked. Eventually, I got over it. I had a huge support team and my entire family as well as his entire family was overwhelmed with excitement for us. There was a part of me that didn't believe it until the doctor gave me an ultrasound and verified with the screen my beautiful baby's beating heart. Every step of my pregnancy was a rollercoaster of emotions. I cried when I heard her heartbeat. I cried buying her clothes. I cried picking out a car seat. I bawled my eyes out when they told us we were having a baby girl. The dreams never returned. The doctors couldn't exactly explain it. They just told me that it was probably the result of my changing hormones. I don't believe in miracles or god. I don't believe that god gave her to me. Her father and myself created her together and she was a result OF US. She was a result of our love and she had somehow saved me from my own mind. I have struggled with anxiety, night terrors, bulimia nervosa, anorexia nervosa, depression, and mild OCD. The anxiety caused the mild OCD, depression, night terrors, panic attacks, bulimia, anorexia, separation anxiety, anger disorders, etc. Everything stemmed from the anxiety. Everything started with anxiety. Anxiety has the power to grow into so much more than just nervousness. Anxiety has the power to control yourself and your whole life. It is evil and it is spiteful and it is hateful and most of all it is terrifying. Since becoming pregnant with my daughter I have experienced much less mental turmoil than ever before. I'm generally a happy person and even though I still struggle with anxiety and panic attacks, it doesn't have the power to control my life. Even though I still fight with my own thoughts every single day to not throw up the food that I eat, I am stronger than the disorders and I am stronger than the sickness. I am stronger than my anxiety and I am stronger because of her. I can feel it in my heart and when she was born and I held her little body in my arms I knew that i was alive because of her. I knew that if it weren't for her, there's no way I would have made it through my life inside of my head. She saved me. She is my definition of a miracle. She is the reason I live and breathe. She is my safety. She is my comfort. She is my home. Her name is Evelynne Jo. She is two months old and she has music in her voice, my heart in the palm of her hand, sunshine in her veins, stars in her eyes, and the world in her heart. And I am alive because of her.

An Example in the Decline of Human Knowledge: Sexuality & Puberty

I often find myself in online question forums passing my wisdom on to hormonal and confused teenagers just beginning to enter the stages of awkward urges that they don’t know how to release. It takes me back to my younger years when I would undress Barbie and Ken into their birthday suits and suggestively place one on top of the other. It’s as if I instinctively knew what men and women do together when they were in love (or not so much) but I didn't know exactly why they did it. Why did they press their naked bodies together and what caused the initial urge to do so? Later on, but still much earlier than most, I started to understand that urge and I remember spending hours in the shower and fantasizing being naked with a man in a very fantasy-themed dream world of erotica. Not that I knew what erotica was at 8 years old. I just knew that I wanted to be naked since that was the closest I could get to an end of the nagging want that I felt. I didn't know why but I wanted to be touched romantically. I wanted to be kissed passionately, and I wanted to see a naked body that wasn't my own. I am using my 8-year-old-self as an example because I want to put into perspective that children are going to be curious earlier than some might think they will be regardless of what they have heard or seen.

Youth today have an advantage over me, however, where they can anonymously ask their questions to perfect strangers and get their answers. I only had the misdirection of peers since I was way too embarrassed to ask my parents questions about my body and these adult feelings I was starting to experience. Not that they would answer them, most likely. They would have probably been just as embarrassed as I was which was even more apparent when I started receiving about-my-body-books to answer my questions. This is probably what started my constant need for buying informative literature even to this day. I consider myself lucky to have had those books since I was hearing all kinds of myths and false facts throughout my pubescent years. “You can’t get pregnant if you have sex while you’re menstruating.” “You lose your virginity if you use a tampon.” Or the all time favorite, “Sex is for married couples.”

Though I don’t disagree that children shouldn't be having sex at such a young and tender age due to a lack of emotional maturity and the astonishingly ignorant knowledge about the subject, I think it’s an awful lie to tell children that only married couples have sex. That is just opening the door to all kinds of problems. A good example being the confused, sobbing teenage girl who had sex with a teenage boy because he said he loved her, only to find out later on that he wanted nothing to do with her after the act. I pin that one on the parents to be quite honest. Not to mention all of the judgment from other people because their parents said the same exact thing; “Only married couples have sex.” Automatically, if one of their peers is having sex out of wedlock despite their parent’s teachings, that person will now be a disgrace, and the teenage years are hard enough, ladies and gentlemen. We don’t need to add anymore castigation to the equation.

Just the other day, while perusing through questions about why pre-teens and teenagers were feeling these weird feelings and what to do with them, I happened upon a few important questions that I found interesting and absurd. The first one went a little something like this:

“I had sex with my boyfriend without protection for the first time because I was on my period. But I’m a little afraid because it was only the first day of my period. Is it possible that I can still get pregnant since it was the first day?”

To which I replied:

“Dear First Day, I don’t know why the idea that a woman can’t get pregnant if they are menstruating is constantly circulating like it is. I remember hearing this myth as well when I was in middle school. While technically a female cannot conceive during menstruation since your body is going through an egg cycle, it is still definitely possible that you can get pregnant due to the fact that the human sperm can live inside of the human body on an average of 7 days (which is, coincidentally enough, an average length of a human female’s menstrual cycle.) Contrary to what you have heard, the only sure-fire way of not conceiving is simply not having sex. You can still get pregnant if you have sex while on your period, if you’re taking birth control of any form, and if the male “pulls out” before he climaxes. Please inform your friends.”

To me, this knowledge seems a lot more important to tell children in order to keep babies from having babies rather than filling their heads with useless ideals such as, “Only married couples have sex.” I understand why parents do this, however. They don’t want their child to have sex at a young age, let alone imagine that they’re child is having sex by instilling a value that they hope will stick. More often than not it doesn't work. Kids will be kids and test their boundaries. A child is an independent being and will encourage themselves to drift further and further away from their parents by natural instinct. My question is, why wouldn't the parent(s) want to fully equip their children with all of the knowledge they can pack into their brains in order to prepare them for the inevitable separation of caregiver and adolescent? It’s unfathomable to me that people expect children to just do what they’re told without giving any reason as to why they should or shouldn't do something.

“The second group of parents may wish to model their children not after themselves but after their ideals, yet they differ chiefly from the first class by their over-indulgence, by their anxiety to pamper the child by yielding to all his caprices and artificially protecting him from the natural results of those caprices, so that instead of learning freedom he has merely acquired self-will.” —- Havelock Ellis on Life and Sex, Garden City Publishing Company, Inc, 1937 (pg 14)

I can understand that a parent’s protection plays a big part in keeping their children ignorant to the sinful act of intercourse and the shame the child must feel when being naked in front of someone else. They simply don’t want their child to make mistakes, perhaps even mistakes the parents, themselves, had made in the past. This teaching method, however, is folly and only contributes to the growing epidemic of young pregnancies and spread of STD’s, as well as the misconception of love and sex being one in the same. When a parent does not fully educate a child with facts and insists on pumping them full of ideals they are not preparing their child with the tools that they need in order to make wise decisions. I believe the same can be accounted for by a parent waiting for their child to ask the questions. Not all children have confidence in bringing up such an intimate subject with their parents and some don’t even think to ask anything at all. Therefore, it is the responsibility of the parent to initiate the discussion with their child and give them truth instead of hoping that they just won’t have sex. No matter how the parent may discourage something, children always seem to find their way, which is nothing new, nor is it absurd.

“Try to leave the child in peace; live your own life beautifully, nobly, temperately, and in so living you will sufficiently teach your children how to live… The reaction of children against their parents is the necessary result of the parents’ action. So that we have to pay some attention to the character of parental action.” —- Ellen Kay, Havelock Ellis on Life and Sex, Garden City Publishing Company, Inc, 1937 (pg 14-15)

The second question I came across in the forums was more amusing than it was absurd. It reminded me of a friend I had in middle school and high school who would be disgusted with the thought of touching certain places on her body. “How can people masturbate?” She would ask. “It’s disgusting that they touch their 'coochies'.” You have to consider that her family was deeply religious, though some forms of sinning were worse than others that they happened to enjoy on a daily basis. I remember battling with her on the emotional and physical benefits of masturbating and why it wasn't disgusting but natural and healthy. She wouldn't see it my way, as usual. She really should have listened to me more since my advice on bodily well-being could have spared her the several yeast infections she ended up having to live through.

“Is masturbation bad? I’m pretty young but I’m getting urges to touch myself but I don’t want to do something that I shouldn't be doing. If it isn't bad, how do I do it?”

I didn't hesitate in replying:

“Dear Young and Restless, Masturbation couldn't be more right, not to mention, normal. I remember that stage in my life all too well. How lucky you are to have the luxury of asking an intimate question to anyone willing to answer and receiving a variety of feedback. It may be an embarrassing topic since it is new to you and definitely private, but don’t let anyone tell you that masturbation is gross, sinful, or wrong. It is full of healthy benefits, both physical and mental, and at your age, you will definitely need to release those hormones that are raging inside of you. Now as for the “how”, I would be remiss to advise someone underage in how to sexually relieve themselves, for legal reasons. All I will suggest to you is to explore your body and figure out what feels good to you. This is what I did when I first started feeling that urge and I came up with my own techniques.”

In this post, I also included a link to Women's Health Network that gives an informative article about masturbation for women so as to avoid any responsibility of a child performing sexual acts on themselves from any specific advice from me.

Although the internet is rarely censored due to anyone being able to post anything they please for all to see, censorship plays a huge role in the U.S.A. so as to hide certain “impurities” from adolescent eyes. Good intentions seem to be the theme of this act, though I’m sure we can all agree that some horrible things have been done with the best of intentions throughout history. Good intentions are performed for the betterment of a society. They are created to provide an equal opinion among masses as well as safety and security. But what are we really trying to create here by censoring a naked human body? Why do we feel that allowing a child to view the natural human form will cause a negative impact on our youth? Furthermore, what opinion of nudity are we having them memorize from adolescence into adulthood? It’s pretty clear to me that the message towards nudity is something to be ashamed of. It is often referenced in a comical way that causes immature giggles and snickers from young people, aiding in the ignorance of the human form that they are quickly getting acquainted to, but not knowing what to do with it. My curiosity of the censorship is heightened as it seems only logical to show the image of something that they are seeing in the mirror anyway. Being able to show the human form could easily abolish insecurity and confusion as well as aid in the idealistic need for perfection. It is a strange world we live in, indeed, when a natural human body, free from cosmetic “tune-ups” is considered ugly, while the covers of magazines are show casing busty, thin models, creating an unrealistic image of how women should look and what is considered attractive to society. A poor self image plagues the U.S. while reality is trumped by superficiality causing more questions from newly hormonal teens as well as timidity.

To conclude this article, my sole point is simple; what is it exactly that we are shielding our children's eyes from? Are we so ashamed of sex that we can not bring ourselves to accurately describe what it is to them in order to educate them properly? Are we so ashamed of the natural human form that we have to create these unattainable conformations to keep our children apprehensive when growing up? It seems to me the less we teach our children the more complicated the issue becomes. That issue, to me, only goes by one name: Ignorance.

Do you think an in depth sexual education should be mandatory in schools?