Details
Nothing to say, yet
Nothing to say, yet
The speaker discusses the lack of sexual education and knowledge about reproductive health during their upbringing. They share personal experiences of feeling ashamed and uninformed about topics such as sex, menstruation, and pornography. Teenage pregnancy is seen as a consequence of the lack of information and support from parents. The speaker reflects on their own experiences of neglect and the impact it had on their understanding of their own body. Well, hello everybody, this is two people that are watching, I want to welcome you to my telephone call now if you are not. My name is Jade, the podcast is about singing, words, literature, and stuff like that. You probably know that I am an activist in a way, I am in a new space, in a new country, in a new context. And it is a lot for us, as I said the other day, but here we are. Today we are going to be talking about the central topic of population and conception, and being from the birth, and the development from the converse, and what the lack of knowledge about all of this can really do to a child. And I think that society is very vulnerable, very young, but we are at the same space, and we can do that. So, why don't we just do that? It sounds so close up. Because, truthfully, nobody ever did. Sexual education was not a thing. Not in the slightest. No fees, no condoms and all that. Nothing. Nada. Who asked us? Never mentioned. My school is your typical public school. Nothing conservative. Religious. Monastery. And yet we haven't heard a single word about sex. Sorry. I'm going to try again. Sex. That's better. And I'm not going to do anything that is interesting, as I believe. As we have already established, my education left a lot to be desired. This is no exception. Sure, there were some passionate teachers, but the system itself was so broken, it was barely possible to learn anything at all. And I'm talking about basic stuff, not people talking about population and conception. And, another question, how can that? Well, the fact, some of us weren't willing to do that part, either. The topic was nowhere near the table of faculty. All the way out of the door. Perfect. My friends, I used to complain that they talked in terms of a consternation that many children were shameful and immoral. I hope there's no need to have an institutional learning system. That's your product. You know, when you test this with sexual blood, you'll prove that that becomes faster than Jesus himself. Growing up in this environment, immediately says, my brother was nothing but a walking bag of shame. I didn't know there was an ultra-brain, a faulty educational system, or yet another way of founding a family. But, thanks to all of these laws, I started finding a clue when it came to flashing phones, because there may be a bit of knowledge around the rest of the kids. And so, when older kids started spreading rumors that I, a five-year-old, drove the ice and kissed the boys, I felt my life was done and dusted. Absolutely talking over. Of course, I'm sure it wasn't true, but fear decided to gaslight my senseless little brain to deliver the rumors that were my actual memory. It wouldn't have been all so mortifying if I hadn't believed what kids and men say. Trust me when I say my anxiety had a full day with that. A ten-thousand-and-one of tears and nightmares that could have been avoided if someone had cared to explain to me the age-appropriate version of this reproductive system one-on-one. A few years later, when I was 10 or 11, still completely oblivious, girls I was translating started talking about becoming 11 and thinking it was a period. They were both so excited they couldn't wait, which many would say, hold your horses, girls. It was not that fun. Anyway, to me, it felt as though I was speaking a completely different language, my vocabulary did not include the word period or uterus or period or anything of this sort. My friends would mention it here and there, and I always remembered it as a joke or a reality. I couldn't have been more lost. And you? Did you get it yet? Then what? Well, you know, please don't, please don't, please don't, anything but that. I mean, your period, did you get it yet? No, yes, kind of, you know, whatever. Yeah, all I wanted was to dig a hole in the ground and be grateful for the success of health. But basically, as it turns out, it wasn't the nature of it or something like that. It was perfectly normal conversation for a bunch of 10-year-old girls. Do you know, many crowds were out saying, what about these children? I'm so disappointed in you, girls. Make sure to talk to your parents, especially the 2-year-old mom. I'm more of a personal woman. We'll continue that in the end. There's always a dude with a real life representation of, what about kids, that kind of thing. The confusing thing was, who are the kids? Who are those personal ones? I believe everything was worth the success. I hated this conversation in the first place, and now my mom is coming to break down what we can say. Exactly what my overblown anxiety needed to hear. So much more relieved. I didn't realize I wasn't sick of this equation. Real parents were hiding in the bushes. They all dropped a bit of cash to watch the music. In fact, they said they were cold against it. Right about now, being so young, the problem is it's a joke matter. Aha, those weirdos again. But looking back, I'm horrified. Mom, what's that noisy baby-kid-type neighbor with an intestine? Probably freaking the doctor. Look, I know that nothing happens on the night and that you cannot expect to see the results of your work literally tomorrow, but I have to say it's a little intimidating still. Did you want to support me in any way you can? Oh, my gosh, I am going to be so grateful. And I don't expect them to be grateful, but unfortunately, da-da-da, they're not with me in the group. They're not with me in the country. They're not with me on this continent. So that's a very, very, very sad story, which one day I'm going to have to ask if you're still there if you want to listen to me. Anyway, I'm going to make a little rant about, you know, me trying to succeed in this very new world and feeling a little intimidated, a little ashamed, a little stoned, a little vulnerable, you know, in the process. But that's what it is. It's just going to keep working. And don't think that something will happen down the line. Something good, hopefully. Anyway, yeah, let's go back to the story. When most of the neighbors and boys turned 12, things began to change. Now, partying became our adult activity. It wasn't private, expat events, but the vibes were certainly open to talk for a bunch of 8- to 12-year-old children who would hang out in one designated apartment and laugh to themselves that a tiny estate of adult supervision ensured absolute harmony between school and family. Some would drink, some would smoke, some would choose hookah to look in the cooler hiding behind the window without forgetting the clouds. Now, was hookah part of my ignorance? But I still haven't quite figured it out. From my understanding, it's some sort of sacrificing, flavorful thing to make smoking fun? Either way, whatever it was, they were doing it. Once upon a time. Easy apartment. Right. What's so hard? It's very close. Pretty close, indeed. A few days later, my mom, for a non-proversional I'm-there-self-here job status, talked to me and asked me, Did you smoke? She said it. Well, no can do. She ran herself. What is that? That's what they say. And that didn't make me angry. Like, hello? Have you met me at all? I was the moral police of the neighborhood and my daughter-in-law was just in this case. P.S.R.P.S.O.C. Did I still go to some of the parties? Sure. Not very gentle. Sheer pressure. But every single time, I tried to come up with an excuse only to be left alone with those happy dinner-all-together family-stalking-on-Saturday kind-of-households, in the sense. But it's what it was. So, the fact that she even suspected was genuinely effective. But it's the kind of stuff she would do. She was the good-natured one. I was the pretty one. Killjoy. I felt as though my own mother-in-law was so distant. She didn't know me at all. But smoking and drinking were just the beginning. Nothing shallow. Only, there's been one. Porn. Can't see the picture. Yes. That's right. A bunch of little pigs will get together to watch porn. They don't have to. Very much the same. And this stuff was easily acceptable. The whole of the Middle Territories got a whole big crowd out of me. So, I would hide in the kitchen in the meantime, hoping nobody would notice my super-tears and pick on me for being a baby. And while we're on the topic of babies, in this planet, teenage pregnancy has changed and it's needed to grow and flourish. The trend I created was, just as on yesterday, no longer needed to wait for Christmas to get a friendly adult. Now they have one of their own. But more with the raging lack of any information surrounding sex and parents who have to choose between properly caring for their kids and putting food on the table, this is practically inevitable. Basically, to sum it all up, sex wasn't a thing until December was and going from 0 to 100 is almost always the recipe for disaster. The first time it happened, I just assumed, okay, I have to live now. I had a vague idea of what was to be expected, so I didn't break out. And because nobody ever talked to me about that, I thought it wasn't worth mentioning. It wasn't a conversation. It was a shame not having a healthy trust and bond with anyone in my family. They said, you know, putting it into words would prove that it's a wrong possibility. Obviously, I have no money and no way of getting any menstrual products, so I made my own makeshift one. Nobody else thinks about getting sound or checkups, so I kept on dealing with it all by myself for many years to come. So much so that the first time I even mentioned periods was when I was around 16 and stopped having them years ago due to weight and eating disorder. She and I were so much acknowledged a little too late that to explain that, I need to first explain a whole bunch of things. So, bear with me. It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that I did experience certain levels of neglect. I always told myself my child was looking at flowers and unicorns and carnations, but they lacked. I mean, I suppose it's that right. What else do you ask for? I still struggle to fully accept it, but I can't deny a lot of my needs as a kid or a kin were never a priority. Safe and stable environments with a chill down addiction and old depressing financial trust, access to quality education, puberty has out, mental health check, vulnerability, honest conversation, even something so simple as pads, deodorant, rinsers, and dental care, none of it was ever matched. It's some of the things on this list that didn't serve and provide with what I had or didn't feel, which I sometimes said and almost felt ashamed for. The other ones were missed forever, and eventually left me feeling disappointed and misinterested. And even if this same thing is significant to some, neglect, abuse, and lack of resources have less of an impact on the time I'm getting by. You don't know how hard it is to get out of the very bottom of the food chain until we are in it. An orange tree growing in the middle of the vision north can be compared to the one having the best time in the Spanish paradise. So next time you feel the urge to tell someone we all have equal basis in this world of opportunities, those who don't succeed and need to work harder, effectively shut up. Don't make a fool of yourself. Okay, so I'm almost done with the story. I know a lot of people are probably going to find it relatable and see themselves in some of these experiences and they're not watching porn, hopefully. Anyway, but I did the little teacher's gatherings. They're not going to have to deal with all of this things on their own because, for themselves, I can do that much. I hope you enjoyed this episode and I would be so grateful if you could show any love and support because I'm crazy to learn about teaching. That's the only way I can go through the day is finding a little teacher subscription or comment or like or go on my social media, anything that's in the way and just let me know that I'm not just embarrassing myself or should be you. Okay, thanks, bye.