For Christina, My Favorite Ninja
Apr. 26th, 2004 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpA friend of mine was very brave this weekend, and I am so effing proud of her. So much so that I'm eager to state this publicly, possibly making a sappy fool out of myself in the process. 
Christina came out to her parents this weekend under less-than-stellar circumstances. It was a long time coming, heavy on the build-up, and though it would have been easier (and much less stressful) for her to let the weekend go by without a word, she stuck to her plan. She rocks!
Sometimes I feel bad because I don't keep in touch with her as much as I'd like, or that I'm not as good or accessible a friend to her as I want to be. We're busy people with full lives who live miles away from each other. This is a valid excuse, I suppose, but sometimes it's just not good enough for me. Ever since we met, Christina has never hesitated to be there for me whenever I've needed someone to vent at, and I'm duly honored that she would call me from the airport yesterday to deposit the events of her fateful day. I'm only sorry that my phone battery kicked out. And that there wasn't more I could do for her in that moment.
All this talk and thought about reproductive freedom over the weekend had me thinking quite a bit about sex, and more specifically, teenage sex. There has been quite a bit of talk about sex education, about sex in high schools (or even junior high schools), about sex without even the consideration of marriage. All of that political blahblah left me thinking about my own teenage sexual history and how fortunate I was. I lost my virginity to a boy that was my best friend at the time, best friend for years prior. We were intelligent and informed, and exploring sex for the first time together was definitely a rite of passage for both of us - and, to be honest, I don't think there was anyone else in my life at that time that I would have liked to have shared that with. I have absolutely no regrets with respect to completing that rite with Don. I really feel like he and I have a special bond that, even though we don't see each other or keep in touch, will always stick. He holds a special place in my heart, tucked blissfully away under "nerdy teenaged love affair."
Thinking of Don this weekend led me to thinking about Christina. I knew that she would be plodding through rough waters this weekend, and I suppose my mind would have wandered to her anyway because of this, but it was a direct progression of thoughts of these physical rites of passage. I think of two girls on a bed, crossing an important line together with an understanding of maturity, respect, and eagerness - similar in nervousness and excitement as the 17-year-old me ages before. She wasn't the first girl whose skin I held next to me in the dark, yet there was something about that evening in November that will forever be squirreled away in my cortex, a very powerful understanding between the two of us. And, like with Don, there is a link that will remain, permanent, I'd like to think.
I don't give Christina enough of my time, but I definitely give her many of my thoughts. This time, though, thoughts are public. Good for you, Christina. It may not feel so great right now, but you made history in your own home this weekend, and stuck to your guns when it was difficult to do so. You are a tough little ninja and bravely stepped up to that line, like we did that cool November afternoon. You are my friend, I love you, and I'm proud of you.
Christina came out to her parents this weekend under less-than-stellar circumstances. It was a long time coming, heavy on the build-up, and though it would have been easier (and much less stressful) for her to let the weekend go by without a word, she stuck to her plan. She rocks!Sometimes I feel bad because I don't keep in touch with her as much as I'd like, or that I'm not as good or accessible a friend to her as I want to be. We're busy people with full lives who live miles away from each other. This is a valid excuse, I suppose, but sometimes it's just not good enough for me. Ever since we met, Christina has never hesitated to be there for me whenever I've needed someone to vent at, and I'm duly honored that she would call me from the airport yesterday to deposit the events of her fateful day. I'm only sorry that my phone battery kicked out. And that there wasn't more I could do for her in that moment.
All this talk and thought about reproductive freedom over the weekend had me thinking quite a bit about sex, and more specifically, teenage sex. There has been quite a bit of talk about sex education, about sex in high schools (or even junior high schools), about sex without even the consideration of marriage. All of that political blahblah left me thinking about my own teenage sexual history and how fortunate I was. I lost my virginity to a boy that was my best friend at the time, best friend for years prior. We were intelligent and informed, and exploring sex for the first time together was definitely a rite of passage for both of us - and, to be honest, I don't think there was anyone else in my life at that time that I would have liked to have shared that with. I have absolutely no regrets with respect to completing that rite with Don. I really feel like he and I have a special bond that, even though we don't see each other or keep in touch, will always stick. He holds a special place in my heart, tucked blissfully away under "nerdy teenaged love affair."
Thinking of Don this weekend led me to thinking about Christina. I knew that she would be plodding through rough waters this weekend, and I suppose my mind would have wandered to her anyway because of this, but it was a direct progression of thoughts of these physical rites of passage. I think of two girls on a bed, crossing an important line together with an understanding of maturity, respect, and eagerness - similar in nervousness and excitement as the 17-year-old me ages before. She wasn't the first girl whose skin I held next to me in the dark, yet there was something about that evening in November that will forever be squirreled away in my cortex, a very powerful understanding between the two of us. And, like with Don, there is a link that will remain, permanent, I'd like to think.
I don't give Christina enough of my time, but I definitely give her many of my thoughts. This time, though, thoughts are public. Good for you, Christina. It may not feel so great right now, but you made history in your own home this weekend, and stuck to your guns when it was difficult to do so. You are a tough little ninja and bravely stepped up to that line, like we did that cool November afternoon. You are my friend, I love you, and I'm proud of you.
