Let's talk about sex, baby.

Today was my first day back to work from Christmas break.

I walk into the room, find my laptop, and begin to reconnect with teachers and counselors.

My co-workers are there, all smiles and all gitty. Both of the girls have recently entered into new, exciting relationships.

The conversations consist of: what did you do with your boyfriend? oh i love my boyfriend, oh he bought me a laptop, oh my vagina hurts, oh boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend.

co-workers: Annie, what did you do with your boyfriend over the holidays?

me: We hung out. It was really fun. (My boyfriend got me some sweet McSweeny postcards with awesome art on the covers. I love it. I didn't tell them about it because I knew they wouldn't see it the same way I did. Especially when my co-worker's brand new macbook was directly in front of me.) I was able to spend good time with my family too. I really miss my family.

co-workers: Great, but why aren't you ready for marriage?

me: (I'm thinking- wow, that's quite the subject change/I'm more than bored of this conversation) well, I don't want to be married today. So I am happy with where I'm at now.

co-workers: Cool. (uneasy)

They walk into the kitchen located a few feet away from me. They talk about how/where/when they like to have sex.

I could hear them the entire time.

They walk back into the room where I am still sitting. I ignore their presence and continue checking up on my work life.

One of them said, "oh sorry, we don't want to talk about this in front of your virgin ears."

They put me at the kid's table. I am drinking sparkling apple cider with my Thanksgiving dinner instead of a really tasty Chardonnay. (I recommend Domaine Serene's Clos du Lune Chardonnay. I'm normally not a fan of that buttery taste, but they do good things with their grapes. Way to go Willamette Valley!)

I was pissed. They have already humped a chair in front of me, ask me how I can resist not have sex, and if I like beef in my mouth.

Because I've never had a penis in my vagina I am automatically a naive, simple girl. I apologize for being so explicit. But I don't know a better way to explain what it feels like than to be vulgar. Because it is vulgar. It feels raw and awful. My worth is wrapped up in the status of my reproductive organs.

I've travelled all over the world. I've climbed a volcano. I've learned French. I tackled an eating disorder. I've studied for years. I have thought carefully about what I believe and think. But, really, all of that doesn't matter. It's all about sex.

Over the last few months this experience has taught me something I do but didn't realize. I've made choices about my personal life not because a religion tells me to, but because it's what I want. I'm happy with my decision. I just wish my value as an intelligent, thoughtful human being wasn't compromised by what is right for me.