My personality has several terrier-like aspects in it.

But the affinity for a studded collar and leash go over well in this group.

Woof, woof.(And licking. Lots of licking.)

If you've got a 13-year-old capable of making an intelligent decision about sex, sure, go for it.

When I was 12, I thought I was ready for sex. I was very sure about this.

I cannot begin to describe how much I was not a full adult at twelve. Twelve was the year I started to become an adult, but I was a baby adult. I was not a full grown-up, in readiness-for-sex maturity or any other kind of maturity. I didn't have a full conception of self, yet; and I didn't realize I didn't have it. I was so out of tune with everything.

Sex with other twelve-year-olds, OK. Sex with Ingrid, the girl in my class I loved obsessively and unrequitedly, specifically: sure! Why not. Fun. OK.

But... You know, I've never understood people who said "I'm not ready for sex". I've tried, but I've been unable to understand that viscerally as anything but a coding for "I'm afraid of sex". Because the notion that someone might be a fully-mature being, or mature enough to be able to see themselves as a not-fully-mature being, and not think, Okay, sex now! The reason I say that I wasn't ready to have sex at twelve is that, hey, at twelve I was a discombobulated mess. I didn't know myself coming or going; I had no actualized idea of self. I barely knew what I actually looked like. I fantasized nearly daily about sex, or love, or a relationship-- not just the physical details of sex, the body parts and the nerve endings, but simply having someone that would sit next to me, touch the back of my neck, trace the skin on my stomach as we lay together on the bed in the dark. But a lot of this was bound up in my conception of myself as an adult, a full and viable being, whereas I really...

really...

Dear Lord. I'm not going to finish this post, because it's turning into Baby-Lizard-is-a-fucked-up-ex-person, isn't it. I was about to type, quite innocently, that I wasn't a "real" person, an okay person, but instead a child, who must really still beg excuses for her not-grown-up mind; and the arrogance of thinking that I was complete and valid, whereas I really was not.

Okay! Shutting up now.

Why do you think it has to be about fear?

You know, I've never understood people who said "I'm not ready for sex". I've tried, but I've been unable to understand that viscerally as anything but a coding for "I'm afraid of sex".

I'd say that being afraid of sex is a pretty good indication that someone isn't ready for it.

Not being ready for sex can also be about understanding the possible consequences (from STDs to pregnancy to locker room gossip) of sex and knowing enough about yourself to see what you can and can't handle.

Yeah, but "afraid of" is subset of "not ready". I know there are people who would, quite justifiably, bristle if I challenged them with that. Which I won't. Because I know it's not right.

Why do you think it has to be about fear?

Oh, that was a thought that never went anywhere, because I stopped in embarrassment. I had meant to say, eventually, that I can't understand, intellectually or viscerally, what those people mean-- which is not to say that they're then WRONG, just that I've got something blocking my understanding of them-- because I can't understand being able to both *be* mature enough to *know* the limits of your own maturity, and *not* be mature enough for sex. They're bound up inextricably, in my mind, in a knotty pile of assumptions and history.

This was just a self-indulgent-type post.

cereal:

knowing enough about yourself to see what you can and can't handle.

See, yeah, my brain just freaks out at that. It goes, contradiction! (And dismisses the STD/pregnancy risks of sex as things that can be worked around-- working with a slightly looser definition of "sex".)

I did originally have some point I was trying to make, about young teenagers and sex and fragility and self-recognition, but halfway through I realized I was just insane, myself, and so posted anyway. Because I'm, I don't know. An exhibitionist.

Of the girls I know that lost their virginity young:

• One, raped, went on to be so self destructive (and often sexually) she was committed to an asylum for a time
• Another went on a spree of serial monogamous nymphomania that lasted almost 10 years, and is now a prude
• One became the world's most effective and forgiven tease, oozing sexuality, but not acting on it much, and is now a prude.
• One just went "Huh. That's the big deal?" and I don't think she had sex again for 4 or so years

Now, I can't precisely say who was ready, or who wasn't, who was damaged (save the rape victim), and who wasn't. But I do know from knowing these women pretty well, that thirteen year olds display an amazing amount of variety. But it's probably not going to damage anyone by making it terribly and horribly illegal to have sex with a thirteen year old.

I lost my virginity late. It was never due to fear. For a while I wasn't interested (which was pretty analogous to not ready, for me, then), and then when I pretty much was, there was no one around I was interested in sleeping with.

because I can't understand being able to both *be* mature enough to *know* the limits of your own maturity, and *not* be mature enough for sex. They're bound up inextricably, in my mind, in a knotty pile of assumptions and history.

I can think of plenty of those instances. It's not not being ready for sex itself. Most people, once they get to be teenagers, are ready for the physical act. It's not being ready to deal with the emotional, physical, and social consequences of sex. If someone is self-aware enough to know they want sex, then they're also (hopefully) self-aware enough to know what they can and cannot handle.

"Not ready for sex" can mean "I know that I can barely remember to turn in my homework and show up to class on time, so there's no way I'll remember to take the pill every day, or to tell him to put on a condom." Or it can mean "I'm not too good at keeping a relationship going for any period of time, and I wouldn't want to add all the emotional baggage of sex until I've figured out how to stay with one guy for longer than a month."