I was 15 or 16 when I realized that sexuality didn’t make sense.  I was getting ready for school, and had chosen a new spaghetti-strap camisole.  I had a bra on underneath, and was proud that I had managed to hide the straps, since I had tried to wear this top a couple of weeks prior, and had been told by my mother that I couldn’t, because “if boys could see my bra straps, they would think about sex.”  So I hurried out, with the straps dutifully pinned out of sight, only to be stopped by the front door.  

This is not a story of having much resolved as of yet … I feel I am still at the beginning.  I just know what I was taught and how I was taught it really messed with me.  At 27, I have never dated, I am a virgin, I have hardly ever masturbated, never looked at pornography, know very little about my body and virtually nothing about a man’s body – beyond the obvious.  I am a bit embarrassed about this, which is why I am using an istock picture that looks a lot like me.  Maybe I’ll get brave and change it someday.