Life as Sexually Repressed Me


If you got past the title, good for you! Not many want to hear about my sexually repressed ass. I guess you are one of the weird few. 

Growing up in an uptight religious community, I thought little of sexuality. Most of my friends' parents didn't touch in front of the kids- no, not even casual touch. There's this law (or tradition? I don't even know what it's classified as, to be honest) that couples should not touch at all when the woman is on her period, and to prevent the kids from knowing when that was, they don't touch at all. Also, they claimed some crap about PDAs being reserved for the bedroom. As if your hands brushing while passing the salt is a PDA. I know. In that case, I have had many, many affectionate touches with various cashiers. What a whore I am. Who did my parents raise me to be?!

So, I had dreadfully little understanding of sexuality. Even though I was sexually abused as a child, I didn't understand what was happening. It felt awful and wrong and SO WEIRD (like did everyone go through this? And just didn't talk about it? Or just me?) but I still didn't understand what sex was. I was fucking eight years old, of course I didn't. Then I was assaulted at age eleven and figured out what it was. And my opinion of it was not positive, to say the least.

The Jewish community is big on family- family values, no sex before marriage, have lots and lots of children, wives are baby machines and should stay home and not have careers, all that yada-yada-yada-yada bullshit. Like conservative values but on steroids. I grew up believing this stuff. Then I realized I was gay. Shit, should I have built up to that? Anyway, I fell in love with one of my absolute best friends in about 9th grade. The chemistry between us was unreal. Every time I looked into her eyes I wanted to kiss her so badly, but it just wasn't in the cards. In the community, every move you make is scrutinized. If I was to kiss her, the entire neighborhood would know by sundown. Plus, my parents would probably disown me for tarnishing the family name and destroying my siblings' marriage prospects. So no kiss for me. 

The good thing about crushes is that they fade over time. The bad thing about sexuality is that it doesn't fade over time. And here I am, still gay and very heavily sexually repressed. 

Hi! You can call me Vivian. I am a free-spirited girl currently living in the insular Hasidic community of Chabad-Lubavitch. I blog about my questions and struggles with religion, as well as my everyday spoonie life with chronic illness. You'll usually find me either with a pen and notebook, furiously writing up my next poem, or curled up with a cup of hot chocolate and a book. Although if you look hard enough, you might find me secretly watching Netflix somewhere.

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