Changing my Attitude Ch. 01

This is a fictional piece. It has been written in first person for more impact.

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Hi, my name is Cheryl (or ... maybe I changed it and some of the details so my parents wouldn't be hurt - you get to determine).

This is a story where I changed my attitude - and my life (and I'm so glad I did)

Growing up I was occasionally the 'perfect' daughter - doing everything right, just as my parents wanted. And occasionally, behind their back, the 'imperfect' daughter.

We were the All-American family, growing up in Cedar Park Texas. This was mostly the Cedar Park Texas of twenty years ago, which was 90% white; 65% evangelical Christian and a strong hold of Republican politics. That is before, any and all of the Austin suburb had an influx of Asians (especially from India); and a huge influx of Hispanics. Today if you compared my last name of Phelps to the last name of Perez in Cedar Park, the Perez name would win 20 to 1 now, but probably 1 to 1 when I was a little girl.

My parents were part of that world. Dad worked for Dell Computers; and Mom was a nurse for the Cedar Park Clinic. My brother was three years older than I was so as I entered 10th grade, he was off at Texas A&M university, doing ROTC, engineering and standing at Aggie football games in a cape in either the 100 degree fall opener or the 39 degree season close..

We attended New Life Baptist Church, which maybe wasn't the largest Baptist church in the Austin area, but it was the largest in Cedar Park. Pretty much all my friends were at New Life Church. We had Young Life together, Sunday school and Sunday worship together. We attended Leander High School as the Leander Independent School district wasn't the huge network it is now. One year after I graduated from high school, the Cedar Park high school came on line and now the Leander District has six high schools.

My friends and I were part of the BlueBelles Dance squad, which, other than the football cheerleaders was "the" group to be in. In other words from the song from the sixties, "I'm in with the in-crowd".

My friend Natalie was the captain of the BlueBelles my senior year and I was the assistant captain. We were pretty generous (by our standards) in that we did include Maria Perez, a nice Hispanic girls and Shawna Hightower, a nice black girl, in our in-crowd. Guys noticed us as we walked down the hall, and we tried not to notice them. Football was king at Leander High School. If you were a male and didn't play football, you just didn't exist in our eyes.

My parents and Young Life teachers instilled in us the value of saying "no". "No" to premarital sex; to alcohol, to smoking (both the cigarette type of smoking and the lesser acceptable marijuana type of smoking). My nose was pretty high in the air as I turned Michael Gartner down for a homecoming date in my senior year. Michael was a nice kid, also in Young Life, but he ran cross-country (what a waste of talent). I ended up with Sean Harris, a junior running back who was leading the team that season in yards for a homecoming date. It might have been better with Michael as Sean kept trying to 'feel me up' and I'm pretty sure that Sean had a drink or two after the game and before the dance. Michael wouldn't have done that.

So, I graduated as the All-American girl and went off to college. I wanted a college where I'd be away from home enough so my parents wouldn't just pop in for a visit and not like in a place where I'd have to fly home for a vacation. What came to mind was something like SMU in Dallas (about three and one-half hours a way) or TCU in Fort Worth (about the same) or Rice in Houston. Part of me wanted a private school, and yet the rest of my brain knew that a public school could save me and my parent's money. They were helping my brother at Texas A&M already.

I had visited the University of Texas at Arlington and the University of Texas at Dallas. The UT-Dallas programs were good, but the campus was pretty plain (no, let me be honest - the campus was boring). The UT-Arlington seemed a little more like a college campus. It still met the criteria of being close enough for a holiday (Dad could drive and pick me up); and maybe not as expensive as a private school.

My thoughts were mixed as I headed off to college. Was this a time to experiment with life, or was this a time to cement your Christian teachings and life.

I decided I could do a little of both. Half way through fall semester at UT-Arlington, I had my first alcoholic drink - a beer - and I didn't like it. At a Halloween party at the Sigma Phi house, there was a punch with orange juice and rum. I didn't think there was any alcohol in the punch, but three drinks in, I was drunk. I also got sick to my stomach. BUT, it did taste good.

I was active in CRU (Young Life for college students), went to the nearby University Baptist Church with friends and tried to walk that line. I saw that I was not alone. Like the Sigma Phi Halloween party, I knew many of the freshmen and many were also involved with CRU and attended that Baptist Church - and pretty much all were drinking.

Fast forward several years. Yes, I had generally enjoyed college life - and also had done with with my academic studies. I had been recruited by Boeing Technology Systems in Seattle Washington for an internship between junior and senior years and was offered a full time position with them after graduation. I had other offers, but took the Boeing offer. My Dad thought that an experience in Seattle would be good for me; and just the name "Boeing Technology Systems" on my resume would be impressive for my future.

I played on a co-ed recreational softball team from work - mostly for fun; but it was a good activity too. In the summer it was softball and in the winter we regrouped to play volleyball. Some of my best friends were on that team, Ryan, Erin, Tom, Linnette, Carlos, Yvette, and more.

It was good, and I fell in love with Boeing and with Seattle. Within two years, I had been promoted. I had dated some guys, and one, Ryan Murphy, was a steady boy for almost a year. Ryan was on the softball team. I knew Ryan wouldn't be high on the list for my parents as he came from a liberal Catholic background, but rarely attended church. I invited him to my church, but he went with me only once. Ryan knew of my conservative background and tried to respect me, but after six months dating steadily, we touched and groped and fingered and explored each other's bodies. Without having a good name for it, somehow he wanted me to touch him and I gave him a hand job. He got into my panties and got a couple of fingers into my vagina. I was wet. While that night had been exciting for me, it was scary.

A month later, with him wearing a condom, we had sex and he penetrated me. I thought this was man was the one for me.

Unfortunately I caught him with another Boeing female employee. I was hurt that he could so easily cheat on me. He tried to convince me it was just a one-night stand, but I stalked out his apartment one night and the girl showed again at his door and was there two hours later.

Oh well, that is the way of life. I poured myself into my work and my church, especially the young singles group at First Baptist Church in Seattle. There were good Baptist boys here.

I dated several of them, Rusty, Greg, Robby, Tanner, and others. I found them either shallow and unable to express themselves, or two full of themselves to be of value; or so religious to want to be preachers.

Rusty was another one that I dated for almost six months. But, it was almost like my experience with Ryan - after a few months he wanted into my panties. Good bye Rusty!!

Greg was so shallow. We dated for several months, and he didn't even try to kiss me. He always wanted to talk about last week's scripture lesson.

All of this gets me to Erin. I 'knew' from my upbringing that same sex relationships and same sex romances and same sex marriages were all wrong - always.

Erin and I have been friends since our first week in Seattle as we both were part of the incoming 'class' at Boeing. We played on the co-ed softball and volleyball teams. We went to Seahawks and Mariner games together either the two of us or with a group of others from Boeing.

One Friday night after an extra inning Mariner baseball game that we attended, we stopped for a late dinner. We had talked about a lot of things in our time together, but dating and men were generally not part of the discussion.

Erin asked me about dating. I passed on my experience with Ryan, Greg, Rusty and some of the other experiences. She agreed with me that good men were hard to find and that too many could be jerks. She talked about some of her dates and how men just seemed more interested in having sex, rather than relationship.

I'm not quite sure how the discussion went to 'self-pleasure' (or masturbating). That was not part of my experience. Sex had two purposes according to my background; (1) creating a child and a family; and (2) for pleasure between two married couples. Her use of the euphemism 'self-pleasure' needed to be called masturbation and also needed to be called sin.

Erin listened to my rant quietly and changed the topic. I wanted to ask her if she did 'self-pleasure', but didn't have the courage, and she stayed away from the topic for a long time.

So, at age 29, I was making great money as a systems analysis for the major airplane and transportation maker (and data company) in the world; I was single and I was becoming an old maid. On a Tuesday afternoon as Erin stopped by my cubicle, I was down. I was getting to be that old maid. Erin suggested dinner at Ivar's Seafood Bar.

I had been there several times, and said "Sure let's go and have a nice dinner and a drink to drown our sorrows".

We went directly from work. We took the light rail from Boeing to downtown, transferred to the eastbound light rail and out to Ivar's. We had a couple of drinks before dinner and were mellow by the time our salmon arrived.

I said "Thank you" to Erin. "You have become my best friend and support for me".

Erin smiled back, and I wondered was there something different in her smile?

Erin put her hand on my arm as we were sitting next to each other so we could see the lights of downtown Seattle.

Erin said "Look at that" and pointed at the Space Needle. Then she pointed at the Columbia Tower and "That's the Columbia Tower". And with a laugh she turned around and pointed "And, over there is Mount Rainer - which you might be able to see on three or four days a year".

I remember as a newcomer to Seattle that I expected to see Mount Rainer, the tallest mountain in Washington State. But, rainy days, clouds, fog all intervened to make viewing Mount Rainer almost impossible.

She then said "Cheryl, you have become special to me as well; and I want to be here for you when you need a friend".

She gave me a hug that was authentic and I hugged her back. Was the hug just a second or two longer than it needed to be?

Erin was originally from the Portland Oregon area and talked about being able to get to her family in a couple of hours using Amtrak's Coast Starlight or Amtrak Cascade trains. We ate our dinner and talked of work, seafood, and even Amtrak trains. We opted to take the light rail back to the main line to get back to our apartments before it got too late.

Erin laughed "I don't want to call in sick tomorrow because I stayed out too late tonight."

Both of us had perfect attendance which gave us a nice bonus in our January paychecks.

At the Nordstrom's downtown station, we got off the light rail so we could each continue on our separate trains to our apartments, Erin going north and me going south towards SeaTac airport. Erin gave me a very nice hug and a kiss on my cheek. I hugged her back with a kiss on her check.

The next Sunday was a Seattle Seahawk away game with the Dallas Cowboys. I had grown up a Cowboy's fan in Texas (and especially at college where the Cowboys played in Arlington and I was going to the University of Texas-Arlington). We set it as a date to watch the game in her apartment.

She greeted me at the door with a warm inviting hug and a kiss on my lips. She was dressed very casually with a Seahawks sweatshirt and some lounging pants. I too was casual, but with a Cowboys sweatshirt and jeans. She got us some rum and cokes (that seemed to be mixed pretty strong) and placed a bowl of chips on the coffee table in front of us. We ate and drank and praised or booed our teams. At halftime, the Seahawks were ahead 21 to 7. Erin had a Papa Murphy 'Take and Bake' Pizza that was ready just about half time. She passed me a slice of pizza and her fingers brushed against mine.

For my friends in the UK and other places, you need to understand that America football is so much better than the 'fuitbol' game that should be called soccer. I had been to a few soccer games and was so bored. The long game went on-and-on and the final score was 1 to 0 (and I even missed the one score as I was in the restroom). But, American football had things so you could tell what was going on - like the "red zone" when a team got close to scoring; four downs; passing down; punting. And ... since the games were almost always televised, there were plenty of breaks to get another beer or to go to the bathroom.

She touched my arm lovingly. "Cheryl, thank you for being my friend".

I touched her arm back and thanked her as well.

When she had touched me, did I feel an electric current?

By the end of the third quarter the game was closer 31 to 21, and Erin was getting drunk. She was slurring her words quite a bit. Again she said "Cheryl, your are the bestest friend ever. I really love you".

By the end of the game, the final score was Cowboys had squeaked it out at 34 to 31 with a field goal at the end of the game. But, I was the only one watching. Erin had fallen asleep on the sofa. I kissed her goodbye on her lips, and she woke up enough to say "Cheryl, I love you".

I made sure she was okay, straightened up her apartment (and put the rum away), let myself out, and caught the light rail to my apartment. About 9 p.m. that evening, Erin called and apologized to me.

Erin said "I don't know what happened, I generally don't drink that much. I'm so sorry girlfriend. I hope you can forgive me."

I said "That's okay, stuff happens. See you tomorrow at work."

I didn't see her on Monday, but my heart (and my face) smiled on Tuesday night as we had a volleyball game.

Erin came over as soon as she saw me and gave me such a big hug and said "I'm still so sorry girlfriend."

I assured her it was okay.

She gave me a kiss on the lips and said "Thank you my special friend", and again a big hug that was maybe two second longer than a hug should be.

I thought to myself - is she falling for me? I then caught myself as I was thinking maybe I'm falling for her and would that be so bad. I could have friends that are girls (or women), but I could not have a girlfriend that I was dating or falling in love with. Almost immediately I chastised myself for such an immoral and wrong thought. It was good to have a special friend, and she was special.

And, more than having a special friend in Erin, our volleyball team won EVERY match that evening. We were awesome!

The next Sunday the Seahawks were at home for the 1:00 game (that is 1:00 Pacific time). For those of you that follow the National Football League (which is almost the whole country), game schedules are frequently given in East Coast time, with three basic game times on Sundays: 1:00 EST; 4:00 EST and the Sunday night game at 8:00 EST. But, on the west coast (Seattle), these times were 10:00 a.m. 1:00 p.m. and the night game at 5:00 p.m.

While I invited Erin to my apartment, she insisted I come to her place. And .. she promised she would NOT get drunk.

She also said "Why don't you come to my place at 11:00 in the morning. We'll go down the block to IHOP and have some breakfast and be back by kickoff for sure." (For those who don't know IHOP stands for International House of Pancakes and was an American staple for breakfast anytime day or night).

I arrived about 10:45 and she was getting ready in the bathroom.

"Just a second honey" she yelled out. "I'll be out in five minutes".

I know how the female brain works. When a female says "five minutes" she means at least ten and maybe more.

Erin came out of the bathroom at 10:57, so, she was correct in her assessment of "five minutes". She was dressed with a hooded sweatshirt and it already was cool with some light mist in the Seattle air. People in Oregon and Washington State talk about growing webbed feet - like ducks -because it is always damp.

I needed the bathroom too, excused myself and went in to relieve my full bladder. But, after relieving myself and in the process of washing my hands, I saw a black rod on the counter. Let me be more specific, a black rod about 8 inches long. One end was shaped like a man's penis. I picked it up, it was wet and warm. I wondered if Erin was, (ahh) self-pleasuring herself as I got there. I put the end with the shape like a penis next to my nose. Instead of a dull plastic aroma, it had a delicious aroma.

Why did it smell a bit musky, almost with some of the spices my mother used to make mulled wine for Christmas (although my mother did not use red wine). There was cinnamon (or was there?); maybe all-spice (or was it?); vanilla (or maybe not). Whatever it was it had a intriguing and very pleasant aroma.

I opened the bathroom door and called out "Hey Erin, can you give me a hand".

Erin was there in just a few second. I was holding this rod thing in my right hand.

I didn't even get to ask her what it was, although I was pretty sure.

Erin first blushed, and then confident say "That is my sex toy, my dildo. I use it to feel good about myself and to self-pleasure myself. Did you sniff it? That is my vagina fragrance today."

I didn't know what to say, so I kind of blurted out "You put that thing, ah, inside your body?"

Erin nodded "yes" but remained quiet.

I started to cry. My best friend was going to hell for giving herself sexual pleasure. I gingerly dropped the dildo in the sink, washed my hands briskly for touching it and walked about of the bathroom and out of Erin's apartment.

The rain wasn't hard, and my coat / slicker shed most of it. I pulled up my hood over my head and started to walk - anywhere, just walking and thinking and walking. I maybe was ambling towards my apartment; but not very purposely. Somehow the Space Needle popped up ahead of me; and I kept walking. I found fifth avenue and headed downtown. I passed the Westland Center and Pacific Place (two of my favorite shopping areas). I walked absently down Pike Street to Pike's Place Market. I needed a bathroom by then, so with purpose walked toward the Seattle Public Library on 5th Avenue and Spring Street. I got hungry but ignored it. My best friend was satisfying her sexual urges with a sex tool. I loved her too much for her to go into sin for her pleasure. Reaching the library (and using the restroom), I decided I'd check on line.

I had shut down my iPhone as soon as I was out of Erin's apartment. I opened it and logged on. There were 8 phone messages, all from Erin. All were a variation of "I'm so sorry"; there were 7 text messsages; one from my father on the theme of 'how are you today', and 6 from Erin on the same variation of "I'm so sorry".

I entered "Masturbation and the Bible" into the Google search function and got this: "Summary: The Bible nowhere specifically forbids or denounces masturbation. It does, of course, denounce all forms of sexual impurity and fantasies that would involve adulterous relationships whether actual or mental." Another source said: "I've met women who feel more shame about masturbation than they do about having an adulterous affair. Yet the Bible is silent on the issue of masturbation and says a whole lot about adultery." Did I have it wrong? Wasn't it sinful? Did it lead to sexual impurities and fantasies? Was I feeling shame for my friend Erin?