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However, I didn’t know how to frame those feelings and reactions at the time, so I tried to be grateful for his compliments of my body, and for finding me sexy.My boyfriend didn't do anything wrong, but my relationship with him left me in a constant conflict between how I wished I felt versus my true feelings, as well as in a state of denial about how atypical my complete lack of libido was.Until I was almost twenty-four years old, I found myself still trying to solve the puzzles of sexuality.I was especially trying to figure out where in the picture I might fit.My body is overweight, my hair often full of frizz, and my face is just as acne-ridden as a teenager’s and without any makeup to hide the blemishes.
Was my mother’s parenting style harmful enough to count as abuse? In fact, when I turned eighteen I cut off all contact with her, to protect my own mental health and possibly also physical safety. And then, there was that broad subject of human sexuality. Continuing well into my teenage years, I abstractly questioned what emotions and thoughts were supposed to arise when I looked at someone that had captivated me.
It started with my insidious small-town public-school health classes.
There, I’d had the woefully inadequate type of sexual education where one learns all the reasons abstinence is ideal and then learns, much later, from a pop song’s lyrics or a television show's jokes, more details about what sex entails.
As a person clearly going through puberty on a typical schedule, I had learned that we all were supposed to experience the emotions and thoughts of crushes, and find certain people to be attractive.
I certainly expected to be included in the experience.