Primrose #3
I’d felt such shame. I didn’t want to watch, but they forced me to. Shame for seeing those things. Shame for being different. Or so I felt. Those images were stuck in my head for a long time. But I didn’t tell anyone. How could I?
I push the memories aside as Felix mumbles something in French and hangs his head.
“Like you said, it got stuck in here,” I add, tapping my temple. “It disturbed me.” Confused me. Made me feel all kinds of icky. Made me scrub my skin in the shower until it hurt.
“Yes, this I know.” His eyes suddenly brim with tears.
“But I didn’t go looking for more,” I begin again gently.
“I couldn’t really, which probably helped.
” The internet is a blessing and a curse.
I don’t think you should go looking, either.
Not until you’re older. The truth is it’s damaging.
And maybe I’m also supposed to tell you that women ought not to be objectified, because it’s true.
Only, right now, I’m more interested in what watching this stuff does to you. ”
“What it does?” He looks taken aback a moment, and I let out a nervous laugh.
“Not the obvious things it does to you. More like the things it does in here.” I tap my head again.
“And here.” I place my hand over my heart.
“My guess is it isn’t making you feel good.
You’re not in trouble, and you shouldn’t feel ashamed, but you should know that watching pornography too young can cause damage. ” Please don’t ask if I mean chafe.
“You mean like cigarette smoking? Don’t worry, I do not smoke.”
“Good,” I say with a little too much relief as I slice my hair behind my ears. One vice at a time is enough to deal with.
“Smoking is very bad for you.”
“Pornography can be too. It can alter a young person’s brain, messing with their reward circuitry.
The wiring, you know? It can also alter the chemicals that make us happy, and I know that might sound strange when it can make you feel happy in the moment,”—please don’t ask why or how—“but it can cause long term problems.”
Emotions flicker and fade across his young face.
“It can sort of dull your senses, sort of make things that are ordinarily enjoyable not so much fun. It can affect your mood and your personality. Make you feel sad or anxious.”
“This I know.”
“And all because your brain isn’t yet developed enough. Because you’re not old enough.”
“So I should wait until I’m grown to watch?”
“Well, when you’re an adult, that’s a question you can ask yourself then. It’s absolutely normal to be curious and to have feelings, but you shouldn’t seek answers or comfort by watching porn.”
He looks so young and so concerned sitting in the sea of his huge blue bed. “You have given me a lot to think about, Primrose.”
“Of course. Anytime.” I note my mistake as his expression immediately turns hopeful.
“May I ask a question?”
I nod reluctantly. “Of course.” Even if I really rather you wouldn’t.
“Is it really like that?” He nods his head in the direction of the darkened screen.
“No.” I cross one leg over the other and note the denim is beginning to fray at the knee. “What you see is make-believe. Not real life.”
He frowns.
“That’s not to say sex can’t be wonderful.” So I’ve heard, I think as I dig my nail into the fabric. “When it’s between two consenting adults. Have they talked about consent in school?” I hedge carefully.
“Yes. Many times. Your body, your choice,” he adds in French.
“Exactly.”
“Their body, their choice, also. No means no. And then Emmy insisted on my watching a YouTube video about thé.”
“Tea?”
He nods. “If you make a cup of tea for someone, and they want it, bon. They drink the tea, and maybe you both enjoy it. If they change their mind after you’ve already made tea—boiled the kettle, added milk or honey—that does not mean you can force them to drink it.”
“That’s a good way to explain it.” And this is a conversation I can have with Emmy.
And she’ll tell me to inform his father.
Ack! “I need to watch this tea video for myself. It sounds very sensible. And interesting,” I say, dropping my leg so both feet touch the floor.
“But porn is, I think, a bad example of how sex between two people can really be.” I push up to stand, hoping that only vanilla two-ways are the worst that shows up in his internet history.
Because someone will have to check. “If you have any other questions…” Save them for Emmy. Please!
“Thank you again, Primrose.” His attention dips to his lap where he unravels the twisted fabric from his forefinger.
“I hear you like CoD,” I say, beginning to turn. “Maybe we can have a game sometime.”
“You like CoD?”
“Yeah, ’course. Fishing isn’t only just for boys, you know.”
“Fish—” He shakes his head. “Primrose, I do have one more question.”
My shoulders rise with a deep, fortifying breath. I paste on a smile and swing back around. “Yes?”
“I know you said porn is not like real life.”
“It really isn’t.” I eye the blue seat wondering if this is a question I should sit for.
“Well, I was wondering, does that mean ladies don’t really put the penis in their mouth?”
Kill me. Kill me now.