Sex Ed

Sehks.  We think we’re comfortable talking about it, but we really aren’t.  (I suffer from the inability to spell the word correctly barring the one time I got it right for the title of this very blogpost.  Baffling, most girls just giggle, but I had to be the one girl that degenerates intellectually).   

A conversation between my gran, me and my subconscious (about Sehks) went somewhat like this: 

Gran: Do you have male friends Lameez?

Me: … (Stop hesitating, you must say something, eventually) … uuuuhh (hand gestures only work when you’re actually speaking)   uhhhmmmmmm mmmmm (You’re humming now?)  eeeeeeeehhh (What the hell is that sound your making with your mouth?!)

Gran:  It’s alright, you can tell me.  But you must know, don’t have sex with guys.  They will promise you the sun, moon and stars, but don’t do it. 

Me: eeeeeeeehhhh (Seriously?!  Do you know words?  Nod your head, it’ll be less suspicious). 

I feel like my entire generation has been misled when it comes to sex education (brilliant, I’ve suddenly overcome my “misspelling-of-naughty-words-so-that-they-sound-less-naughty disorder”).  Adults encouraged us to talk about it and ask questions (but not too many).  It was awkward, so we asked each other.  (Please, picture 13-year-old virgin girls talking about a naked, grown man thrusting his privates into your privates.  It’s kind of traumatising to find out there’s a hole in your body you didn’t know about).  

  

I remember still coming to terms with the puberty talk.  The area you thought was just useful for urinating will now have blood gushing from it on a monthly basis, because of the child you’re not having.  Naturally, I tried my best to pretend that my childhood wasn’t over by thinking about more wholesome things like puppies and Jesus.  It was easier to choose Jesus over puppies.  The latter soon had a way of making me think about the mechanics of reproduction.  

  

I turned a blind eye but when I was 18, in Bio class, it all caught up when our teacher made us draw and label sexual organs and watch a slideshow about STDs.  My eyes were shut through the whole thing.  She said images of rotten privates were all over the internet and we could always Google it later.  (It’s been five years, I haven’t Googled yet).    

The giddy feeling I got when it came to sex has now transformed into hysterical rage at the f’d up message the world is teaching us about it.  I’d just like to get through one day, or rather one episode of a primetime sitcom, that doesn’t bombard my unsuspecting mind with some vulgar idea about sex.

Example: I really liked watching Game of Thrones.  It’s a great story and I thought I could ignore the monstrous sex scenes.  In the end I decided to stop watching the show because it clashed with God’s perfect design for sex within a marriage. 

I think my generation compromises when it comes to relationships and sex because we’re not taught God’s design for it.  A marriage is supposed to represent the Gospel, our reconciliation with God.  Christian teenagers are taught to “save themselves” or “be pure” for their spouses instead of being taught that their body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, we are the bride of Christ and we have His righteousness.  You’re not “saving yourself” because you love your future spouse/ life partner.  You’re saving yourself because you love Jesus Christ and you want to glorify Him.  

Some little girl is growing up with the perception that one day a Prince (or Princess, now with these new, progressive, homosexual fairy tales) will take her to be his wife and he’ll be mighty pleased to know she’s a virgin.  The motivation is wrong.  It’s been distorted not only by the world, but by the countless relationship talks that lack the Gospel’s message of unconditional love.

Could that little girl love the unlovable?  Could that little girl love a guy who’s a recovering a drug-addict and who’s basically “banged” his way to get a new fix?  I bet she’ll feel cheated once she’s found that she’s been saving herself for a half-dead, fornicator.  Can you blame her?  Pastors have torn pieces of paper to represent the soul ties that will take away pieces of her heart in an effort to stop her from sleeping around.  Nothing about a shredded piece of paper encourages you to love the unlovable.  In fact, it only tells you not to be unlovable.   

She was strictly told to give her whole heart to her spouse because God wants her to have a happy marriage.  Although that’s true, the same emphasis wasn’t placed on giving her whole heart to Jesus Christ, surrendering all things for His perfect and good will to reign in her life. 

Our generation has had the convictions and visions (man-made and flawed) of previous generations drilled into us.  Maybe if we spoke more about the Gospel (the greatest love story the world will ever know), we’d find it much easier to talk about sex.