How to become an Anchoritic Courtesan, part one

November 18, 2009 Danae Klimt

You know as a little girl, in kindergarten, in first grade, that you have feelings in your body that don’t have a name.  Your grandmother calls the place between your legs, the place where some of those feelings live, your suzie.  That is not your name for it, but you don’t have another one.

Once when your mother sees you scratching between your legs, because it’s itchy, she says, “Soap and water will cure that, you know.”  “It itches,” you respond, indignant.  Her words and your indignation will stay with you for four decades.

Like many children,you have an imaginary friend.  His name is Jim, and he has brown hair and brown eyes.  He is quiet and serious, doesn’t talk much, and lets you lead the way on the adventures you have together in places only you can see.

Your friends are mostly boys, although you are not a tomboy.  You don’t think of yourself as being different from other girls, it’s just that the boys like Batman and Star Trek and Lost in Space, just like you.  You also like some, though not all of the boys in ways that have to do with those feelings you don’t have a name for.  There is one boy in particular in first grade that you think about a lot away from school, when you are falling asleep.  Later, you will watch the blond boy and the Chinese boy who are friends, always side by side, and think how handsome they are and have a crush on them both at the same time, together.

It takes a while for you to wonder if you do have feelings that other girls don’t have, that women don’t have.  You already know that you are different from the average; you’ve been advanced from first grade to second, and you’re in the third grade reading group.  It’s not the last time you’ll be allowed to jump ahead in school and then wonder where you are in the rest of your life.


Entry Filed under: The Anchoritic Courtesan

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