Dear "Old Friend,"

Well, it's been a while since I've thought about you. I'd rather not reminisce over our time together, but every day makes it harder to not. I'm constantly learning lessons about the world and the people in it -- many of which I could have already known, if you would have told me.

Now that you have my attention (let's face it, I'll never have yours), I would like to thank you for the many lessons you taught me and my other teenage peers.

Thank you for not teaching me about my external genitalia -- my clitoris, my vulva, my labia -- as if they were not actually mine. Thank you for treating my area down there as some dark, forbidden place that's not even worth mentioning in a class of hormonal teenagers. After all, we don't want to get the guys who may or may not be in the room to get flustered over those "funny words."

Thank you for refusing to teach me about contraception (Why would you? The idea of safe sex is just too radical), but showing me slide upon slide of syphilis, gonorrhea, herpes, and chlamydia to scare me into abstinence. Because "just say no" is the only mantra we need to go by. Only bad kids have sex in high school, anyway.

Thank you for making me feel afraid to ask questions about my own body. As you may already know, there were many topics that didn't make a ton of sense to me -- c'mon, the menstrual cycle is a complex thing. And the endocrine system? Talk about complicated. Anyway, I'm so incredibly grateful for the uncomfortable and nerve-racking environment you decided to place me in whilst telling me about sex. Because every teenaged girl wants to discuss orgasms with her teachers while her classmates stare her down.

Thank you for teaching me about only heterosexuality and assuming everyone we would ever stumble upon in life would be cisgender. I bet you could imagine the surprise I experienced when I met someone with facial hair and an Adam's apple who preferred to use plural pronouns in reference to their gender. After all, in our little bubble of a school, homosexuality in itself seemed outlandish. It's funny what you realize is normal when you go out into the real world.

Most importantly, thank you for teaching me, as a female adolescent, that I shouldn't wear too much makeup because it gives boys "the wrong idea," that I need to dress a certain way to earn the respect of my male peers, that I need to be inside when the sun goes down. Thank you for portraying rape as a thing that happens in the deep of night by men who lurk behind cars and in bushes. I don't know what I would do if you hadn't told me I need to learn how to defend myself (without providing me the resources with which to do so.) Thank you for nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders as you explained "boys will be boys."

It's because of our relationship that I find myself feeling so confused and even frightened at times. Thank you for the pain, the heart ache, the discomfort, the misinformation, the exclusiveness.

Best regards,

Your Former Student