Growing Up Hairy

Wigs and Pictures Since recently separating from my husband, I started seeing a therapist for the first time. She has me talking about all of my past serious love relationships, so we can figure out if there is some sort of pattern that I follow when picking a man. We were on my 3rd most serious relationship when I found myself sharing some very intimate details about our lovemaking. I’m not sure she was quite ready for what I was about to tell her, and I’m not sure Bongo Java is either, but this is how it went: Making Love to Kevin was like constantly being on a movie set. Of a porno. It was our 3rd Valentine’s Day together and my 143rd appearance as Barbara Streisand. Barbara was one of his favorite characters for me to portray. My funny Valentine was an indie filmmaker and he carried his love for fantasy over into the bedroom. He couldn’t quite distinguish the real world from the perfect world of lights, camera, action. Don’t get me wrong I loved his imagination. The chanc...

It was 1988, my hair resembled a small black poodle resting atop my heavily hairsprayed head, Jon Bon Jovi was my idol and all my girlfriends were having sex. With their boyfriends not with each other, not that there's anything wrong with that. There has been many a time since then that I have prayed to God to make me a lesbian but that's another story. My girlfriends who were only a year older than me were so free and comfortable with their bodies. At sleep overs they would all walk around naked trying on each other's clothes and looking at their boobs in the mirror. I on the other hand found it embarrassing to just remove my socks in front of them. Their bodies looked like beautifully chisseled sculptures made out of the finest clay. Mine looked like a pile of play dough that my little sister dropped on the floor and stepped on. This one particular friday night we were sleeping over my friend Kim's house she was the prettiest and had the most sexual experienc...