About Sex

and Being Different

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We Have Different Skills and Talents

WE always assume that people are like us. They must be affected by the same things that we are. When I’m tired and only want to talk, it makes no sense to my husband who finds conversation wearying. When I get angry at my mother-in-law for nitpicking about the neatness of my house during a shared meal, it seems like such a minor issue shouldn’t come between us. We just don’t understand one another.

We are different. All of us have unique talents and unique struggles. For instance, though I am quite a slob and a pretty gruesome cook, I have lots of academic skills which make me the student most kids hated in school. And while I’m a good writer, I can be a real klutz when I venture into the realm of the spoken word. Let’s compare that with my quiet husband, who generally doesn’t speak unless he has something absolutely perfect to say, or my mother-in-law, who cannot stand a messy house and excels at cleaning. (Yes, I can see it in your eyes; you are realizing that their life hasn’t been easy since I came into it. ~grin~ )

When will we learn? I like chocolate. My son loves vanilla. Tuna makes me happy. My husband finds it disgusting. My daughter loves to dance. I’d rather write. We’re all different! And that is absolutely okay. I have another point to make, however, and it is a natural outgrowth of what I have just said.

Our Struggles Are Unique

Just as we like things in varying degrees, we also find that we are negatively and positively influenced by different experiences. My husband finds a board game stimulating, and he plays to win. I expect it to be relaxing, fair, and it’s a chance to spend quality time. My kids show varying degrees of both tastes, but playing together proves challenging, because while he expects me to laugh when he cheats, I want to take his head off for ruining our nice, warm, homey experience!

Cheating or lying is absolutely abominable to me, if you’re looking someone in the eye and interacting with them (but of course I’ve been caught doing both). My friend has a thing about profanity – all curse (or cuss) words make her cringe, and she finds it difficult to wash her ears out after hearing them. The only way she can avoid using those words is to stay away from them. Another acquaintance can’t stand to hear a child speak out against a grown-up, even in a respectful tone. It goes against her principles of respectfulness. I, on the other hand, consider it disrespectful to the child to keep him from speaking his mind if he has something to say.

All of these things can create conflicts and challenges if we aren’t careful. Often, our differing views don’t really signify the meaning we give them. For instance, my husband isn’t a blatant cheater who ignores people’s feelings in real life affairs. In fact, while I often, in my quest to avoid seeming dishonest, speak the truth too much, he can often rebuke me and give me advice about the proper way to handle the situation. Also, the friend who does not allow her children to contradict her is actually much sweeter and gentler in tone and wording when communicating to her children, so they actually get a very pleasant home environment most of the time. When we realize that people who have differing views might also have habits that vary from ours and balance these supposed problem areas, we grow to understand that we aren’t always good or bad, but often different.

I am not a new-agey goofball who believes that all things are always relative. Pedophilia isn’t a preference. It’s a disgustingly criminal activity. And killing another human being in a fit of anger is not right. I believe in right and wrong, and black and white are my primary colors. It’s not from a lack of standards that I speak this way. I am actually quite intractable in many ways. It is, rather, from a sense of compassion that I speak these things. Realizing that we are ALL wrong helps us to look, then, at the pedophile, the murderer, and the stubborn individual and see a human in need of love and some care.

Areas that Play Upon Our Weaknesses

To me, a sex scene is horrific. It’s going to stay in my mind for years, like “The Song that Never Ends” and I won’t be able to concentrate on happy thoughts until it clears. Explicit descriptions of sex, or even mildly sensual scenes on paper can evoke the same reaction. I am really uncomfortable with allowing illicit sexual behavior to touch my mind and heart, and when at all possible, I tell myself that when the lights dim during a movie, it means they each went home. (giggle)

Ugly words and emotionally difficult scenes, on the other hand, aren’t such a problem for me. Violence is also no biggy. I can watch a man shoot up an enemy while shouting profanity with no negative reaction, most of the time. It is only a movie, and I am quite sure that although this scene isn’t depicting what is right, I won’t be tempted to grab a knife and attack my friend during a fit of anger. I’m just not wired that way. So if it has no lure for me, it’s not going to cause me any harm. That’s my theory, and it has proven quite accurate, so far.

Getting More Personal – Trigger Areas

I react badly to sexual scenes. Does that mean I could be swayed into a sexually illicit relationship? Honestly, I think it does. If I wasn’t wired to be sensitive to sexual scenes, I wouldn’t have such a hard time with it. The fact that they stay in my mind, influencing my thought habits proves to me that I would likely find these types of situations difficult to navigate in the real world, as well. But I have no proof of it; neither do I want any. (smirk)

I married young. So, almost from the time that I first began wanting sex from an actual human, I have had it. I married a man who was became my outlet for many of the struggles I faced in the sexual arena. I also learned to pray and fast when something came up that actual sex didn’t cure. I am cautious with my sex life and continue to have to channel my thoughts in this area.

I think that although marrying young has led us to have some rough times, financially and emotionally, having my husband with me from an early age has been an absolute salvation for me. We adapted to meet one another’s needs in many areas of my marriage, and this has been just lovely. In fact, it’s been so wonderful that I often ask myself if I might have fallen into sexual sin without my husband’s early presence in my bed. I don’t know.

Sixteen years have passed, and I find that I crave him, not just sex. I long to be with him, to hear his voice, to be in his embrace, and often just to touch him. It’s as simple, often at night, as a single hand upon his arm. That tiny bit of contact feels like showers of comfort to me. And unlike the old cliché, when I have a headache, I often find that he is the cure. I beg him for a kiss to my forehead and it almost always dulls the pain. And I often wonder if teenagers who are engaging in sex before marriage don’t just need the same thing.

A No-Touch Culture

I have a friend from Colombia. She touches people while talking. She hugs spontaneously. She kisses and hugs her daughter, then kisses and hugs her again, and then she does it one or two more times, too. She is always in contact with another person. And it bothers me at times. Why? Because I was raised in America, which has a culture that preaches “no touching.”

Now, this same culture, that will tell us that excessive touching is a sign of derangement, will tell teenagers to go at it with condoms because they have a primal need to connect with other people. Could that primal need, perhaps, be met another way? (Again, I boldly admit that I’m speculating, since I married young. But then again, I was 18 when I married. Let’s go back to my early teen years.)

I remember having a boyfriend when I worked at Taco Bell once. I would corner him in the cooler and kiss him there. I would reach up into his arms and he would hold me. It was lovely. It felt safe. And mostly, it was nonsexual. I wasn’t thinking of getting closer. I wanted just that. Unfortunately for him, he was a guy who would have liked to have had more. He never got more, however, and I was a virgin for my husband. (grin)

During those years, I occasionally shared a kiss with a boy, and while he was usually happy to leave it to just lips, he might try to run his hands on me. (I didn’t allow it, though. Strike two – poor boys. LOL ) On my side, however, I wanted them to hug me during their kisses, because I liked to be held. I wanted a simple hug. I longed for closeness.

Some Soapbox Preaching

Could it be that our teenagers are actually craving some cuddles and hugs from us? Why are we so afraid to give them that? It’s because we trust the experts. The same ones who are teaching them to wear condoms while also using birth control (why, if no semen is getting through?), and to have a “healthy idea” of what sex is really meant to be while managing their STD’s, acquired, of course, while wearing condoms or forgetting them. (Come on! The same kids who forget to take out the trash are bound to ignore rules about condoms.)

We’re allowing people who haven’t gotten it right themselves to train our kids in a lie. They don’t care about our children. If they did care – with all our technology, why is “safe sex” dependent on paper-thin latex? Who is behind these crazy ideas? Okay, for more information, check out these websites…just in case.

PamStenzel.com has information on videos and an online course you can

take to learn more.

MedInstitute.org gives information on sexually transmitted infections and

sexual health.

StandUpGirl.com gives information on pregnancy and a place for

pregnant teens to hang out.

I’m done now, but don’t forget that I reserve the right to annoy you with this type of soapbox preaching anywhere on this website. Hug your kids and watch out for my temper. I mean it! Consider yourself warned. (wink)

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Pneuma Sender@yahoo.com