The Scene staff
My family immigrated to the United States when I was 5 years old, but I was raised to be a Muslim Afghan woman. I’ve always had conflicting thoughts about sex.
As a child and young adult, I never heard the word “sex” uttered by relatives or friends in my community. It was considered dirty, shameful, taboo. I was told that if I had sex before marriage, I would burn in hell.
So naturally, I avoided any thoughts or feelings of sexual desire. When I entered high school, I was a naïve and sheltered 14-year-old girl. I believed that love was magical, like it is portrayed in Bollywood movies.
I remember vividly the moment I learned on how children were conceived. The topic came up in gym class. I was sitting in a circle with other students, waiting for the coach to assign us to a dodgeball team, when one of the female students asked, “How long can sperm stay in the vagina?”
With a curious tone, I asked, “What is sperm?” Immediately, the other student’s question became obsolete, and the spotlight switched to me. The circle became very awkward and quiet. I can still feel the sharp stares I got that morning.
One kid sarcastically said, “Ask your mommy how babies are made.” I told him what my mother had told me: “Once I get married, my husband and I will sit on our bed holding hands to ask God for a baby.”
There was a moment when I felt like everyone hoped that I was joking, but I wasn’t. Their eyes were glued on me, then they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
This caught the coach’s attention. He asked what was going on, but no one wanted to say. I was sitting there, not embarrassed, but confused. The coach reminded us to use our inside voices, and he carried on, drafting us into teams.
Once everyone got their giggles out, we went back to our circle. There was one senior who wanted to make sure I knew the truth about life. She went into great detail, explaining how intercourse worked and how it could result in pregnancy. Everyone was listening closely. I wasn’t the only one who benefited that day.
After gym class, I was very disappointed that I had been lied to by my family, and part of me didn’t want to believe the senior who had given me the lesson on reproduction. I tried to produce funny images in my mind, hoping to erase the disturbing picture that she had painted.
I felt dirty. I felt like a bad person for believing someone else over my mom, and then I felt empathy for her because she was probably just repeating what her mother had told her. When I got home, the first thing I did was give my mom a hug and tell her that I loved her.
I never shared my experience in gym class with Madar jan (Mom). Throughout high school, anytime I found myself in a discussion about sex, I would spell out the word. I was not comfortable saying it out loud.
Families, schools and religious institutions often teach that abstinence until marriage is the key to a healthy life. But marriage is not for everyone, so why should people have to get married to have sex? Why would God create all the goodness that comes with sex but set rules and regulations to discourage it?
In Afghan culture, men who have sex with their girlfriends won’t marry them because it’s believed that these women are promiscuous. Men aren’t encouraged to do this, but they aren’t ridiculed, either.
Even here in America, there is a double standard. People look down on women who have “casual sex,” but not on men. They brag about it to their friends. It’s like a badge of honor.
The bottom line is, sex shouldn’t be taboo for anyone. It shouldn’t have all this negative juju tied to it. It should be accepted as an enjoyable part of life, as long as it’s consensual.
I’m not saying go around and have sex with everyone, catch diseases and get into hurtful situations. I mean, let your guard down and have fun making love with yourself or a partner. Set your own boundaries and morals.
I have been sexually active for about seven years. Only recently, I was able to break free from feeling guilty about sex. The voices that once echoed in my head have faded away. The shame that used to lead to self-hatred after each sexual encounter has shattered. That fear of burning in hell is no longer there.
Instead of telling young people that sex is a negative thing, we should emphasize the positives. We should provide them with the tools to understand their inner workings and encourage them to pleasure themselves as part of this self-exploration.
We should educate them on the opposite gender. We should make sure they know how to protect themselves from pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases, abuse and violence. This way, they will think about the consequences of their actions.
I know that conversations like these are uncomfortable, but we need to have them. I like the approach the people in the Netherlands have toward sex. They start talking to children about it at age 4. That’s why their rates of molestation, rape and teen pregnancy are so low compared to other developed nations.