Under the Covers

by Jordyn Taylor '12
FEATURES CONTRIBUTOR

Spring is mating season. Whether you’re a human or a squirrel, the advent of warm weather and green grass probably gets you in the mood–especially at Hamilton, where the end of winter means you can finally pry your body out of seventeen layers of parkas and fleeces fit for the Arctic. So, Hamilton, could there be a better time than now – when the birds are chirping and the sun is shining – to start talking about sex?

When I was six years old, I asked my mom and dad why babies look like their parents, and there began my lifelong love of talking about sex. I was six, talking to my parents about penises and vaginas, and I couldn’t ask enough questions or get enough information –I was hooked. I got older and gained my own sexual experiences; I experienced new sensations and I couldn’t help but want to talk about all of them.

When I walk around Hamilton, all too often I hear people talking about things that make them unhappy – how much reading they have to do, how little sleep they got last night and how bad the weather is. I think everyone would be a bit more cheerful if they talked about more pleasurable things than homework and the climate of central New York. I think sex can be an amazing thing, and it makes me really happy to talk about it. So I do, frequently.

I understand that our society has labelled sex as an inappropriate conversation topic and that it’s not exactly socially acceptable to sit around discussing our private parts all day. But I think that if sex is something you’re interested in, why restrain yourself from talking about it? That’s why I’m writing this column. By openly writing about my opinions on sex and relationships, I hope to take away some of the taboo that prevents people from sharing their opinions on sex and relationships, if they so choose. So, in the spirit of spring, and in the wonderful words of Salt N’ Pepa, let’s talk about sex, baby.