I still remember the first time I was intrigued by my own body. There was a red fluid seeping out of my vagina, and it scared everything out of me. I haven’t been that scared or screamed that loud before that. My mom came rushing in, thinking I was hurt. I, to this day, remember the look of relief that washed off her face when she saw all it was was period blood. My younger self did not consider it “just” blood, not for a while after. Why? I, even as a kid, was open-minded. I didn’t judge people based on how they looked or who they loved. I didn’t mind how their voice was, or if they were dumb. All that mattered to me was that they treated me and everyone around them with respect. Even as a kid with so much maturity, I was still astounded. 

It took me many years and so many experiences after to realize that there are some things we don’t talk about, not in public, not in private. Those were the stuff that we learn by ourselves, from various sources. Here arises a problem, another thing a lot of others like me don’t discover till later on in life. The other “sources” we use to learn from might not always be reliable. For example porn. Commercialized porn rarely revolves around the pleasure of a woman. Many do not take into effect the needs or pleasure points of the woman, but only of the man. Deep-seated patriarchy is only reinforced by these subtle but obvious channels. In a place where talking about sex is taboo, there is not a lot of place to uproot this stigma. This unrealistic show of sex and relations seed into young, impressionable male brains that everything revolves around them, and into female brains that they cannot be dominant. Is this the world I want my children to grow up in? Absolutely not. 

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