Dirty Apple: Having your sexuality compared to the

likes of bad fruit

I looked at the apple with bruises over its once shiny red skin, cuts into
its pale flesh, and hidden germs from the underside of dirty fingernails
secretly dancing all over its body as I heard my mom say to me this is
you, this is you, this is who you are now. Youre the dirty apple at the
bottom of the barrel. Youre the dirty apple covered in the slobber of a
stray. Youre the dirty apple rotting in the alley way. Youre the dirty
apple the hungry would throw aside. Youre the dirty apple decorated
in disease. Youre the dirty apple no one wants to eat.
This isnt what she said, nor was it the message I think my loving
mother wanted to convey to me. But this is what I heard. This is what I
felt.
It was a church youth trip during high school. The focus was on purity
and sexual abstinence until marriageon staying that shiny apple until
your wedding day for your partner, for your family, for God. As a
chaperone, my mom led the exercise with the once pristine apple. After
a quick admiration of the shine of its skin and the promise of
uncorrupted insides, she asked us to pass it around. Each person was
to leave their own mark; the size and severity was up to them. Once it
finished its course, she held it up for its second observance and asked
us, Would you eat this apple?

Look at its cuts. Look at the bruises. Look at this damaged, unworthy
fruit. Would you eat it? Would you? Would you eat this dirty apple?
So my mother did not directly tell me I was a dirty apple, but what she
did say with the tarred fruit leaking tainted juices on her palm was, Is
this someone you would want to marry? In the inflection of her voice,
the answer was clear. It wasnt. This battered apple wasnt someone
anyone would want to or should want to marry. We were told that night
that a beaten apple was a fair comparison for a sexually active
teenager. We were told that night that having sex before committing
your life to someone made you less worthy of having someone commit
to you in the future. We were told that night that sex damages you in a
way beyond repair. Every scamper between the sheets would not only
dress you in scars, but it would take something away from the essence
of who you are and desecrate your desirability.
Instead of cautioning about the emotional and physical dangers that
can come from sex, it was demonstrated that sexall sex before
marriagemeant a dirty fruit that no one would want to eat. The
humorous sex ed program in Mean Girls equates sex with absolute
pregnancy and death, but this demonstration equated it with a death
of worth. Sex before marriage meant ceasing to be the beautiful apple
on display at Whole Foods and becoming leftover pieces fit only for the
garbage disposal, trash can, or a compost if youre lucky. Sex before
marriage meant no one would ever want to marry youbecause who
wants to eat bad fruit?

The demonstration didnt only make me feel like a dirty apple. It made
me feel like a fruit whose only worth stemmed from its usefulness and
shininess to other people. I was taught to keep my pants on for my
future husband, my family, and most importantlyfor God. But not for

myself. I was taught to allow others to control my body. I wasnt given

cautions that I could use to make my own decisions. I was given
persuasion to keep my decisions in line with what others would want
and with what God would want. I was taught to find my worth in
marriage and not in myself. Most of all, I was taught to feel ashamed.
This youth trip didnt teach me how to practice safe sex. This trip didnt
tell me how to prevent unwanted pregnancies or diseases that
potentially could damage the shiny skin all the way down to the apple
core. It did not teach me how to discern sex and love. It taught me
guilt. It taught me that sex before marriage was badperiod.

After a battle of self-hatred and religious devotion, I found that I

couldnt only rid myself of one. The two were a package deal for me. I
decided to leave my guilt behind and my religion with it, but I know
this isnt the case for everyone. I am not against the religious, and I
know many whose religion serves only as one of love. I do, however,
feel compelled to speak out against the harms of certain religious
principlesprinciples that restrict personal freedoms and hurt the selfimage of teenagers realizing their own sexuality, principles that halt
progressive sexual education and fail to teach students that their body
belongs to themselves, principles that teach marriage as the only
means of romantic love, and principles that teach worth as only
existing in others eyes.
Perhaps if my mother had a closer look into my life at that time, she
would have never been able to stand in front of me with a bad fruit in
her palm and insinuate that it was deserving of less love than the

untouched apple it had been only minutes before. Perhaps if she knew
now how many times I thought of that defiled apple and compared
myself to it, she would begin blueprints for time machine technology to
erase the whole occurrence. Perhaps if she knew the way that
demonstration echoed self-hate and guilt rather than caution and
awareness, I wouldnt have this story.
I do have this story, though, and my hopes are to show others what my
mother didnt see and to reveal the message that is actually coming
across in these abstinence-only lessons. As for the example from Mean
Girls, unfortunately, its funny because its true. Even outside of
churches, the advocacy of abstinence-only sex ed can be seen across
the board in public schools. The taboo of sex creates a lesser
knowledge of safe practices and closes communication for many
families. My mother quit being the person I could openly go to for help
and advice the day I felt that opening up to her might cause her to see
a dirty apple, a bad fruit. My hopes are to prevent these teachings from
becoming the defining factor of anyones self-worth. My hopes are for
people to be free to make their own decisions about their body without
fear that they are dulling their shiny skin or making punctures in their
identity. My hopes are for people to learn to love themselves for who
they are inside and not who has been inside of them.