I wrote about this on my other blog, but I just had to write about it again here because it’s been on my mind. I have an aunt, whom we’ll call Tippy. Tippy has the bold, uncensored mouth of someone who imbibes…a LOT. That’s not to say she’s vulgar by any means; she simply doesn’t have a filter for what she says.
Most people have at least some filter that keeps them from having certain conversations out in the open because it’s a private matter that everyone doesn’t need to know about. Most people who say something anyway are usually trying to hurt or humiliate someone. Usually, people think about how they are saying something and whether they are saying it effectively to convey what they really mean. Usually. If it’s the heat of the moment, we may say the wrong thing or the right thing the wrong way. However, my aunt’s “oops” was just an ill-advised, badly timed sentiment.
The time: Thanksgiving day. The place: the dinner table. The subject: my sex life. Yes, my non-existent sex life was discussed over the Thanksgiving turkey, and it was all my fault (even though she said it).
It all started sometime after I began working at my other aunt’s group home in 2007 with Tippy. Tippy is my aunt on my father’s side, a side of the family I hadn’t seen much, as I lived in Michigan and they were in Florida. When I started college, my aunt Vivi* asked if I wanted to work at her group home in the summers (she had relocated to Florida ten years before from Michigan), and I accepted my sophomore and junior years. At some point in time, I think when Tippy’s daughter’s boyfriend of three years had moved in with them (“them” being Tippy, her daughter, and my other aunt, Kitty*), Tippy and I were discussing love, marriage and etc. I told her that I intended on staying a virgin until my wedding day. This was met with a modicum of skepticism, but was a moot point as I had no boyfriend and no prospects.
This past Thanksgiving was just shy of my three year anniversary with MensHealth. He had been to several family functions and was comfortable with the family. He was (luckily) in the house with the men watching the football game. We were in the garage (yes, my aunt Vivi’s garage has the space and accomodations for a dinner party; no one actually eats in her formal dining room on her white carpet). “We” included my cousin’s girlfriend, Tippy, her daughter, Aunt Vivi, and three or four older children. We had eaten just about all we’d planned on eating and my cousin’s girlfriend had stepped away to make a call, when out of nowhere, Tippy says, “So the real question is, can you still wear white at your wedding?”
Um, wow. This is what you want to discuss across the Thanksgiving turkey? I’m used to the when are you getting married question, but the state of my hoo-ha address? I hadn’t written that speech yet.
I’ve been searched like a suspect for engagement rings after Christmas for two years now. I’ve been asked when I am getting married every conceivable way. Since I have a little bit of a belly, I’ve been asked if I were pregnant. However, this was the first time I’d been asked if I was still a virgin. Thinking about this, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
To be continued…
- If You’re Not Open To Criticism Then Don’t Have Sex (chicagonow.com)
- Girl Talk: Am I Meant To Be A Mother Or An Aunt? (thefrisky.com)
- How to Talk About Anything on Thanksgiving [Etiquette] (gawker.com)