remember the sky ride?

i went to six flags last nite. i was overwhelmed with feelings of nostalgia as thoughts from adolescence flooded me. we passed the sky ride (you know those little 2-person cars that fly above the entire amusement park at a snail's pace?) and i recall being a 13-year-old little girl going to the park with my best friends. it was such an adventure to go the park. we would take such effort to make sure our hair looked great and clothes coordinated. our parents didn't know we were there to meet up with our school crushes. or maybe they did and recognized this to be an important part of self-discovery.

back to the sky ride. going on the sky ride meant one thing: make out! but not make-out as i know it today. make-out back then was often nothing more than sitting closely to that boy you drooled over during math. make-out meant sitting so closely on the sky ride that your knees would touch and waves of adrenaline would surge through your tiny body. make-out meant the courageous crush who would slide a hand over yours. almost too much to bear! and every so often, make-out did mean just that - lips on lips and even the occasional slip of the tongue.

but it was just that. THAT was the journey and destination. sex did not enter our minds nor was it the motivation to start the make-out in the first place. the make-out was, in and of itself, the objective.

i miss those days. i miss those days when holding hands meant so much. when sitting closely was all that was needed to know you were going to love that person for the rest of your life (or at least 7th grade!). there was no anxiety or wonder if the sex was good, if you were sexually appealing, if you were sexually competent. no worry if your ass jiggles too much when you're doin' it doggy. no worry if your belly hangs over when you're riding on top. no worry about grazing it with your teeth. no worry that a phonecall won't come the next day - or ever.

it was just sweet. and fun. and intense. and spine-tingling. it was lust. it was love. it was all that.

that's what the sky ride means to me.

use a separate washcloth

the other day, a muslim female client was talking with me about her sex life. she is sexually active and states she is looking for a man who is sexually compatible. she said she has rarely been sexually satisfied. usually she finds men who just cut to the chase and get off (ejaculating AND getting off of her) without making sure she has orgasmed.

"i haven't really had any orgasms in my life."

i asked her if she masturbates. she said she has never been able to do that. she always thought of it as dirty or weird.

well, "do you like your body" i asked. "not really, no," she said with embarrassment. she was very insightful and assessed that avoiding masturbation and disliking her body stems from childhood. her mother made her feel ashamed of her genitals. we weren't allowed to touch or talk about "down there."

"you use a separate washcloth for down there," her mother would warn.

what a message that sends. down there is dirty. don't touch. it's contaminated.

these are powerful messages that stick with each of us as we grow up. while my own mother never explicitly told me not to touch, she didn't give me permission to touch either. she did not tell me i did not need to buy the FDS (feminine deodorant spray) while shopping together when i was a teen. she had massengil in her cabinet, i learned down there needed extra cleaning. i don't blame my mother - she was only doing what she thought to be right. but it wasn't.

i say this all the time. how often have you seen a commercial promising to rid of awful ball or dick odor? probably never, right? it seems preposterous! and really, it is. but we have become so desensitized to women's bodies being objectified, scrutinized, and criticized that we are numb when we see ads selling fresh wipes with panty liners.


it's not acceptable to tell us down there is dirty.

i want to start a campaign to boycott all "feminine hygiene" products that demean women. first stop Always. who's with me?