The first time I heard the word pornography was when I was about 10 years old. My cousin was in the car with me and my mom. She was older than me, she was probably 14 or 15 at the time (I don't actually know how much older than me she is). She was telling my mom something about the boy that I can now assume was "her boyfriend". Apparently he had been grounded because his parents found he had bought a pornographic magazine. My mom felt completely uncomfortable and just moved on the conversation with "oh no, that's awful", "oh well, I'm glad his parents found out". Once we had dropped my cousin at my grandparent's house, I asked my mom what pornographic meant. She has always been really awkward about the whole sex thing. This was definitely one of those times. She got a bit anxious and angry at the same time and limited her response to "it's a magazine where people are naked in it". Although that was the first time I had ever heard the word, let alone having it defined in the most painfully awkward way possible by my mom, I had already been exposed to pornography 4 years before that day.
I studied first grade in an all girls catholic school. I have memories of it, some of them pretty vivid, but all of it just bits and pieces. I remember the brown uniform, I remember sitting with one of my friends on top of a storage room to eat lunch, the first time I brought in some water with colorful jellies in it, having a change purse shaped as a soda can, scratching my knee playing volleyball... and going to the house of one of the girls on somewhat a regular basis by the end of the school year. All I remember of her is messy hair, a younger sister and a mother that didn't care. I liked going to her house because we would see naked women on her computer. She had been much further exposed to porn by the time she showed me, I think she had also been exposed to pornographic films because of what she would tell me. We, or at least I, pretended to find the images funny just to see more of them. We would open them in paint and pretended to draw funny things on them. Ever since I wanted to make everyone feel about me the same way I felt while watching this women, excited and anxious all at once. It only hit me this morning, 20 years after it happened, that I started feeling sexualized by the time I was 6.
By the time I was in fifth grade I wanted boys to want me. I don't know if it was hormones, media, beginning of sex-ed or just the combination of all of the above but by the time I was in fifth grade I wanted to be a stripper, yes you read right. I just wanted the boys to want me. Luckily for 5th grade me, I was perhaps the first girl in my class to get breasts. Somehow I felt validated for the first time, special, popular and attractive to boys, even if I had to put bandages before leaving to school the days I didn't feel like being made fun of by others. Fifth grade was also the time another friend of mine discovered internet porn. I loved it. I got my computer full of viruses and my mom completely infuriated about the whole thing. Ever since it's been a roller coaster of watching it, feeling guilty and cutting it out for sometime, then coming back to it with despair. I actually remember thinking how much I would like to become myself a porn star by the time I was about 16, I thought I would make it big time with my webcam and myself, ha-ha.
Because of this pursue of being sexy, I began caring too much about my appearance. By the time I was 15 I had already undergone laser treatment to remove unwanted hair from my legs, arms and face. I had already tried several different diets. I had tried convincing my parents about getting nose surgery. Ten years later I have already looked into getting a vaginoplasty. My whole sex experience is directly standardized by porn. Nothing you haven't heard of, I guess. Enough studies have been released regarding how pornography harms both men and women. However, it was a surprise for me. It was a surprise when I realized I didn't feel like being loved unless I followed some sort of imaginary parameters I had set for myself. Truth be told, it was a surprise for me because I have read the studies, the suggestions, the whole porn is bad shebang, but not only had I never accepted it was having an immediate effect in my intimacy, I also didn't want to watch it any less. I guess it's like when you're a smoker and you know you shouldn't do it, but you want to, even more, you have to. I just never thought that need would get to me, to my love life, to the person I love. Why would it? How could it? It just didn't seem fair. Life hadn't been fair. I didn't want to have anything to do with porn, I was exposed to it, it was unfair! It can't just come back to ruin what I love just because it's porn. Except of course, it had. Now I can only wait and see what the consequences are, what is the other person's response to my whole act because I hadn't waxed, because I had a sore throat and I couldn't be loud, because I didn't feel desired and sometimes, that's all I had to measure my self worth...
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