I was raised in an all girls school for orphans. Not the kind that you are thinking of, that would make you pity me.
Our teachers were brilliant, independent women who had families to go home to. They were conducting an experiment with us.
We had no access to boys or men as we grew older. We lived together as a wonderful family and when we learned about history, we learned through the eyes of women. We believed that we were all-powerful and all-capable.
We blossomed from children to young women, I have since learned, in ways that most are not afforded. The teachers kept a close eye on us to protect our innocence and modesty, but they gave us a gift we did not fully grasp until 20 years on from graduation.
On our 11th birthdays, a teacher would take us aside and give us a piece of paper. On it was a question:
Have you ever experienced an orgasm?
There were two boxes next to the words yes and no. We did not have time to think. The teacher handed us the paper and said to each of us, as we stood there alone.
Now that you are 11, you are to be taught something special, unless you already know what it is.
Answer the question truthfully.
Later, I often wondered about the girls who did not answer truthfully, but the way we were raised, I can't imagine that anyone would have lied, unless they had experienced one and were too ashamed to say yes.
I, of course, checked no.
The teacher then took me to a private bathroom. In all my years at school, I never saw one before or since that day.
The teacher explained that I was to lie down in the enormous tub and let the water run over me there until "it" happened.
She said that I would have as much time as I needed and to enjoy my afternoon.
I had no idea what to expect. I said good bye and locked the door behind her. I was most excited to have this luxurious bathroom all to myself, but I thought for certain an entire afternoon would be ill-spent alone there. I didn't have time to think about how strange it all was or to dwell on being bored.
I took off my clothes and got in the enormous tub, turning on the water as she had instructed and tucking my body underneath the faucet so that the water would run over me.
I came almost immediately. It was a shock and surprise to me and I sat bolt upright in the tub.
Perhaps if I had not been raised in this environment where integrity, privacy, and boundaries were taught to us day and night and if I had been older than 11, I might have wondered that the teachers would open this world to me.
I remember sitting in the tub gasping at the aftershocks of the pleasure and immediately lamenting what she had said. This would be the only time I would visit this bathroom.
I would never be able to lie under the water and feel in against me like this again!
I moved my slim frame under the faucet again and let the water pour over me. I spent the afternoon in the bathroom coming over and over again.
I did not leave until I was worn out from ecstasy.
And I told no one about what had happened. I was surprised that no one ever mentioned it, but we all went about our business, happily as ever, maturing into confident women, knowing that there was a world waiting for us.
It was only a few days after the bathroom that I started touching myself to replicate the feeling. I found that I could and did so with joy, knowing that this, like all the invaluable lessons our teachers had bestowed on us, was our right. Something private and special and glorious.
The school was long in my past when I finally heard some mention of this unique part of our education. It was at our 20 year high school reunion. We all descended on the school looking young and happy and delighted to see each other. One of the teachers spoke to us and said this:
The divorce rate is 50% and yet look around you. You don't know this about each other, but not one of you is divorced. We taught you to know your worth, be self-sufficient. We taught you to care for others, to be good people. And we gave you the gift of loving something men value above all else.
It was uncomfortable in the room for a moment after this, but soon we continued our chatting.
It was true. And to this day, although I enjoy an amazing sex life with my husband, I like to get in the tub and feel the water pour over my clit as I moan and come into the water.
