None of my present-day friends has seen one and none wants to. Were my friends from home perverted? If it was true that no one else did this, then something must have been wrong with our group. Plus, not only had I taken part in it, but I liked it. I questioned my relationships and my past. Did I do something I should be ashamed of? It didn't seem fun anymore. Until this epiphany?that my suburban Long Island town was not like others?I assumed everyone experimented in the same way. It was a fun way to demystify our bodies in the midst of being lambasted by the media and our health classes about unsafe sex equaling death, AIDS, teen pregnancies and STDs. My boyfriend and I weren't even having sex. We were just trying to learn about each others' bodies. I can remember the first time I shaved: the sticky, alien feel of the skin. The glance in the mirror followed by the oh-my-God-I-look-like-a-plucked-chicken moment. Suddenly I was more aware of that area than I ever was before. Just like passing my boyfriend in the hall knowing my initials stood out like little white scars against the black curls under his jeans. And I am still convinced that we weren't the only teenagers experimenting in this way. It doesn't matter to me, though, if it was a geographic phenomenon or a reluctance by others to own up to the act I would never trade the thrill when my boyfriend surprised me with heart-shaped pubic hair on Valentine's Day for anything.
