My sexual and social naiveté persisted well into my college years. Thus, I went to the big University determined to live in an alcohol-free dorm so I could focus on my schoolwork. The most redeeming thing that came out of the alcohol-free dorm was my best college friend, who I affectionately called (and still call), Chom. Chom was a bright, eccentric upperclassman and academic hall mentor. She could never seem to manage the clutter in her dorm room, taught me to love Middle Eastern food, and embraced all my quirks and social helplessness. Sometimes we’d talk all night and I’d eventually sleep on her Flip & F*** even though my room was right next-door.
Chom swears to this day that during one of our late night chats I asked her where babies came from. I still dispute some of the facts leading up to her lessons in reproductive health, however, I acknowledge I did say something like “So when can a woman get pregnant?” I was a freshman in college.
Upon hearing this question, Chom cocked her head to one side and nonchalantly examined me through her thick, trendy frames. “Well…are you asking about the fertility cycle?”
“Yes.”
“You really don’t know how it works?” Chom inquired, still without judgment, but with a now definite curiously.
I just stood there blankly.
“Well, you know the egg drops every month right?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, I mean, I know that…” I desperately prayed that Chom would expand.
Chom went on to tell me how long sperm can live inside the vagina, days of peak fertility, and how hormones work. It was an awakening.
As I said, Chom never teased me about not knowing such basics until she started meeting my boyfriends.
At any rate, I’m thankful I had Chom to take me under her wing and teach specifics on the birds and the bees. By the time my biology class rolled around that semester, I was an old pro with the material. Unfortunately, I didn’t have to use the knowledge on a practical level until my Big City days many years later…
