Trigger Warning: Mentions of sex, sexual activity 

I hate going to the doctor. Not just any specific doctor really– all of them: dentist, psychiatrist, general practitioner, you name it. There is just something so unnatural to me about some stranger taking an intimate look at my body, or at least parts of it, touching it with their cold, gloved hands and either saying everything looks good or telling me what I need to do to change it. To which I always respond with something along the lines of “okay, thanks” and walk out of the office only to return a year later. 

So, I guess I hated the doctor for reasons that everyone else hated the doctor. It wasn’t until I got older that I started to hate the doctor for more reasons than I used to. When I went for my yearly check-up right when I turned 17, my doctor asked my mom to leave the room. I knew what was coming. She gave me a warm but professional smile, “Are you sexually active?” Even though I anticipated this question for the days leading up to the appointment, I still had no idea what to say. Since I went to Catholic school for my entire life, I had practically no sex education other than “remaining abstienent is the best way to not end up pregnant or with an STD.” So, forget any useful sex education that pertains to horny teenagers, let alone queer sex education. 

Flustered and suddenly anxious and red in the face, I had to tell her that the only experience I had was with someone of the same sex and that I was not sure if that qualified as sexually active. She simply nodded and asked, “So you’re practicing safe sex?” I promptly responded yes. How can I have unsafe sex if I’ve never been with a man? 

It wasn’t until my first year of college that I learned that STDs can be transmitted through same sex acts, specifically between sexual partners of the female sex. This was an eye-opening thing for me to learn. Why hadn’t anyone told me this before? It also wasn’t until a few months after that that my friend told me what dental dams were and how they were a good way to prevent against the spread of STDs when performing oral sex. 

If the health care system wants to prevent the spread of STDs among those who are sexually active, why don’t they alert those having sex of the ways they can practice it safely? Growing up, I was very aware of contraceptives used between sexual partners of the same sex, but where was this rhetoric for the queer community? This has been quite frightening to think about, as another public health crisis specifically centering around the queer community could very well happen again. 

Process Notes: When I first started writing this piece, I wasn’t really sure exactly what I could say, as I hadn’t associated my topic with anything STEM oriented before. As I kept writing, though, I realized that I do have experience with my queer identity in relation to sex education and the health care system. Even though this experience is my own, it is clearly shared by many queer individuals (AIDS crisis, as evidence). Writing this has made me realize that the lack of proper sex education in Catholic schools is another issue that pertains to my topic.