I was going to entitle this blog – sexuality is a wavy line – but then someone mentioned that fluidity is the new terminology for bisexuality. When I googled the term, I discovered it was more about the possibility of sexuality being malleable throughout life. In my personal experience, I was more conflicted about orientation, when I was a child and teenager, but quite certain now, at the age of 55. I am pretty sure that is a relief to my husband…
As I child, I lived in public housing in Glasgow in a predominately Irish Catholic neighborhood. I knew no other only children with single parents. Although sex was rarely talked about, the very large families with thin bedroom walls must have had a very good idea what their parents were doing. Their siblings also tried to gross them out with specifics which they, in turn, passed onto me. What! ‘My mum never did that’, thought I. In the summer months, it was very common to borrow a bedcover from the house and play tents over a washing line. This was also one of the few places you could have complete privacy. On various occasions, I would be in a tent with all girls or a mixture of boys and girls. I guess we ranged in age from 9 to 12, maybe? The dare was to take your underwear off and expose your girl or boy parts. Further dares involved some touching which would produce an interesting sensation, a precursor to real sexual desire, perhaps.
At this stage, I want to stress that there was no element of sexual abuse or molestation and the groups would be around the same age at the same time. It was natural curiosity. For someone, like me, who had rarely seen a boy’s parts (all female household), it was especially intriguing. One female friend was particularly interested in playing with me alone. That seemed innocent enough but we went a little further than was usual. On one occasion, I was sexually molested by an older boy at school and that was an entirely different situation. It was against my will and very frightening.
So, cut to my teenage years. I went to a Catholic high school – male and female students were separated from each other, in different annexes, until we turned 14. As soon as we entered that year, I was like a cat in heat. Zing! The sexual button switched on and I was fascinated by the boys in our class. I was very shy and believed I was unattractive. That was clearly untrue and I had one boyfriend after another. I was just like my slutty cats however (and I am only talking about first base here) and skipped from one to the other. The first object of my desire was a handsome lad and one of my girlfriends decided it would be fun to write on the chalkboard that
Kerry fancies Frank (that really was his name).
I blushed furiously, desperately wiping it off the board, and in my anxiety to stop her, banged her head into the wall and gave her a black eye!!! I don’t know who was more astonished, her or I. It backfired on the perpetrator, however, (you know who you are, Ms. K. 🙂 ) and the boy asked me out, to everyone else’s dismay. Then we went into English class and our teacher asked my friend, who sat next to me, what happened. She told him the truth and she got a row for telling lies. Of course innocent little Kerry wouldn’t do such a thing. Just don’t get in between me and a boy when I am in heat; nothing has changed. Slutty Miss Kerry…
Tune in for more tomorrow.