I remember the first time I felt fear of the apocalypse. My youth group was circulating copies of the Left Behind series. I read them all. I stayed up late under a dim reading light pouring over one chapter after another. When Kirk Cameron answered the cat call of End Times fanatics everywhere with the cinematic rendition of the book, I attended my church lock-in to watch the film. The fear was palpable. I remember the conversations that ensued during the lock-in. “What will you do to be ready?” I was a junior high girl, so I was mostly concerned with what would happen to my undergarments upon being “taken up.” Never mind that those who were left behind probably didn’t care about the piles of junior high girl clothing strewn about. My 15/16 year old psyche was overly concerned about the level of discharge in some of my underpants. At school I would take the tissue in the bathroom stall and wipe my underwear. Mine were feverish and frivolous attempts to wipe away evidence of discharge. No one talks about discharge, y’all. I didn’t know I need not concern myself with this very normal bodily fiction. Our bodies undergo a month evolution and the presence of discharge is just a fact of life.
The End Times reel would play in my head. Maybe a crash of thunder, a lightening bolt, or some other form of deity driven mass communication and then BOOM! all the well-behaved Christians were taken up. My clothes would be left, obviously since I was so well-behaved, and what would remain of me would be underpants with significant stains and discharge. The underpants would be accompanied by a bra with holes on the side where I Macgyvered the under-wire out. The only thing I hated more than copiously uncomfortable amounts of discharge were those damn under-wires.
My youth pastor would use the imagery of apocalypse to catalyze the behavior he expected of us. Of course back then, just like today, The Gays were on the list of those ushering us closer and closer to the day we’d evaporate out of our clothes into heaven. My youth pastor punctuated the list of others “bringing us closer to God’s will with their unrighteousness and disobedience”: Democrats, un-submissive women, people who were being “worldly,” and baby murders.
It is 18 plus years later and I am no longer worried about my discharge or what would happen to my clothing if I were to suddenly become a puff of smoke. I am most certainly no longer worried about The Gay Agenda. There are things you should grow out of after all. There are things that aren’t developmentally appropriate to carry into adulthood because you obtain a level of experience, education, and clarity. So I am here to tell you, based on my life experiences (in case you need to be told): The Gay agenda isn’t a thing and xenophobia is worse than any kind of apocalypse. Also vaginal discharge, much like consenting adults loving one another, is a normal part of life that none of us should be too concerned about.