I remember when I was in middle school and this guy asked me how many fingers I could fit and I said four because it seemed like a reasonable number and I had no idea what he was talking about.
I remember the first time I bought condoms and how I layered my basket with other essential items, like cosmopolitan magazine, so no one would see what I was buying.
I remember the first time I broke someones heart.
I remember when I used to think lubrication was anything that was wet and, by that logic, assumed water could do the trick.
I remember when my knowledge about sexuality became a set of contact lenses and I glanced across the room at my vibrating pens.
I remember the first time I saw the penis of a boy my age up close and personal. We were standing in my front yard burying some treasure. My hands were covered in dirt and my head was down. He said “look” – and I did. His pants were down and this little thumb of a flaccid penis was bouncing around like a deflated party balloon. I thought to myself, he should get that looked at.
I remember the first time I got my heart broken.
I remember thinking that I would get married and move into a little house and what all my furniture would look like and what I would name my children and how many pets I would have.
I remember the first time that someone told me “marriage is work” and “fifty percent of marriages end in divorce”
I remember the time I realized “fifty percent of marriage don’t end in divorce.”
I remember the first time I ever went to a swingers club and my nonchalant acceptance of public fucking.
I remember every single time I ever felt like I’d made the right decision after making the wrong one first.
I remember the time I asked a group of people if men orgasmed too and they laughed at me and I realized there was probably more to sexuality than cosmopolitan was letting on.
I remember the name and the face of the girl who explained sex to me for the first time. I remember how my room was arranged and the quiet way she whispered. I remember telling her to shhh anyways because the knowledge she was passing on was highly classified. I remember how she rubbed two barbies together and I nodded solemnly.
I remember all the brothers of all my friends I ever had crushes on.
I remember the first time I successfully made myself orgasm and how in my head time stopped and lightning cracked and dark clouds enveloped my house and I realized with great power comes great responsibility.