I'M NOT RELIGIOUS -SO WHY DOES EVERYTHING FEEL LIKE A SIN?

I remember the first guy that I ever liked was Dominic T and I was ten years old. To this day I am still drawn to that dark, Italian look. There was a craze in school that year that one had to write down your secret crush on a piece of paper and little tidbits of information and then share it with your friends. So much for secrecy. My mother found it. She called me into the kitchen and I knew right off that i had done something wrong.

"If you're old enough to be doing that sort of thing..." she began. She then let go on a tirade. I cannot remember the rest of it. I just remember the shame. I felt the heat starting in my ears and filling my body. My cheeks stayed inflamed for the longest time. The gist of it was that if I was old enough to do something like that I was old enough to basically undertake the duties of the Oval Office.

What I had done was obviously bad. Liking a boy was evil. I would not do it again.

I was reminded of this a while back because my neice has a crush on the Jonas Brothers and my mother was joking about it as though it were no big deal. She thought that it was cute.

We were not religious and I was not the sort of person that my conduct warranted any lockdown of the prison gates. I was not boy crazy. Far from it. I took books with me when we went camping, for God's sake.

Something about that day stayed with me for I did not date in school. I opted not to attend highschool dances. The message got reinforced by something that took place later on.

I spent the summer of my eleventh year with my Grandparents in Europe and met some of my cousins. Afterwards, we kept in touch by mail. Finally, a couple of years later, it was time to return. I was really looking forward to it and I had purchased gifts. Due to the frequent letter writing, I had included some stationary. When we arrived at the large family gathering, my cousins were waiting and waving.

"Oh, you can't give them the gift." said my Dad. "They've changed." It took me a second to get what he meant and then it dawned on me. Oh...they'd grown up. They had breasts. I guess as we were now 15 that was normal. They were the same people that I knew from our correspondence. They had not turned into the Whores of Babylon. Yet, somehow, I picked up the very clear message that there was something wrong with their having matured. I was fairly thin and a late bloomer. I pulled back and I know that the visit was marred by it. We never kept in touch again. To this day I do not know what they have gone on and done with their lives. As for the stationary, it sat in a drawer in my bedroom for years.

Not only did I not partake of the normal rights of passage in highschool, but I did not wear makeup. Somehow I also sensed that it would not be okay. After I graduated I went on a student exchange program. Away from home I felt freer and let loose. I bought some tasteful, subdued stuff. My Mother and brother scoffed about it when they saw it on me. I felt like I was the painted, scarlet woman.

Had we been Southern Baptists I could have rationalized all of it. We were not. I really don't think my parents even remember this and I certainly would never bring it up. But, as an adult I still have not introduced anybody to my family as a parter, date, significant other, fill in the blanks or none of the above. Nothing. I start to fidget when somebody so much as hints at asking me out.

It was in university that my anorexia manifested itself. I never had treatment. I always say that my love of reading and my natural insight was my therapy. And hey, it was all free. But seriously, I would not recommend it.