Dear me at 15:
Believe me. You’re not pregnant.
No, really. I can tell you with 100% certainty that you are not with child.
You see, the funny thing about getting pregnant is that you need to have sex for it to happen. And, given the fact that you’re still a virgin, I’d say you’re in the clear.
Now, if only we could convince your Mom.
You’ve been with your first love for a couple of months now. Things have started to get kind of hot and heavy. Hot and heavy in a 15-year-old, no-time-alone, grinding-on-the-couch-in-the-moments-when-your-parents-leave-the-room kind of way. And apparently, love must be in the air because your Mother (bless her heart) has picked up on the scent and is hot on your trail. She is convinced that you are pregnant and has even staged an intervention in the hopes of convincing you to confess your sins.
The trouble being, of course, that you really don’t have any.
Sure, there’s been some making out. You’ve been inching towards second base. But your plan was to stay there for a while. Hang out. Get comfortable. Practice a little. Wait for a while until maybe you might feel confident enough to slide into third. We’re a long way from a home run here.
But something funny has happened. Amidst all this pregnancy speculation, your period- normally arriving like clockwork- is nowhere to be found. You noticed at 3 days late. You got a little spooked by 5. Right now, you’re sitting at about a week and a half and you are officially convinced that your uterus is the vehicle for the world’s second only immaculate conception. You have images in your mind of teensy little spermies jumping through layers of clothing, crawling around folds of skin and creating an unwanted teen mom type baby situation inside your womb. You are Freaking Out.
You are freaking out so much that you have convinced your friend (who will go on to become a contributor to this blog!) to accompany you to the teen crisis centre to do a pregnancy test. You cry your way there. You cry your way through a very awkward appointment (right out of “Mermaids”) in which you confess to the counsellor that, although you are not sexually active, you are nearly certain that you are pregnant. God bless her for humouring you. You pee on the stick and wait.
Your life is flashing before your eyes right now. You’re trying to picture yourself pushing a stroller into biology class and nursing in the middle of the library. You’re telling yourself how stupid you are for having done anything sexual with your boyfriend. You’re telling yourself how wrong that was. What a terrible person you are for letting that happen. And for (sin of all sins!) wanting it to happen.
Honey! Let me take a moment to say here: There is nothing wrong with wanting to experiment. It’s totally and completely natural. It’s not wrong or gross. Wanting that doesn’t make you a bad girl, a sinner, a slut, and it doesn’t mean that you’ve got a one-way ticket to hell like you think.
I know, I know. It’s a (very) controversial thing to say. But really. You love your boyfriend. You both are monogamous. He’s a great guy. Sweet, considerate, gentle, respectful. You’ll be with him for the next three years (which might as well be eternity in teen time). It’s totally natural to want to fool around. And as long as you’re safe, cautious, and with someone you care deeply about, go for it at your own pace and don’t beat yourself up about it.
Now, I can’t stress here how important it is to be safe. STD’s and pregnancies are very real things that happen all the time. It’s not just stuff that happens to “that girl” or “in this type of situation”. You will eventually learn (though thankfully as an adult) that having a baby is an ENORMOUS responsibility that changes EVERYTHING in your life. Seriously. EVERYTHING. It’s not for the faint of heart. It’s not something you want to do any time soon. Believe me.
Having said that, I can now reassure you that everything is going to be totally fine. The lady will come back into the little room and tell you that the test came back negative. You will experience a rush of relief followed by an even larger rush of embarrassment and a strong desire to run out of said lady’s office screaming.
The good news is you’re not knocked up. The even better news is that you’re not a bad person. You’re just a normal person.
And so, the next time you find yourself grinding on the couch while your Mom is making cole slaw upstairs, just remember to be safe. Be cautious. Take everything at your own pace. Be thankful that you had this experience, because it taught you a very valuable lesson: Immaculate conceptions can really make a mess of things.