As an 8-year old, if I had a question, I asked my 8-year old peer and blindly accepted whatever garbage was spat out. Today, an 8-year old asks Google.
My father never had "the talk" with me. Well, that's not exactly true. One day when I was 12 years old, we were pulling into our subdivision when he finally sputtered out (after acting extremely awkward the first 20 minutes of our car ride), "Do you know what a scrotum is?" in the same tone of voice Mr. Rogers used to ask children if they know how crackers are made before the video transition to the cracker factory.
As a young Christian boy, I grew up thinking sex was bad. I probably wasn't specifically taught that. But, it was the impression I was left with hearing lots of warnings and nary a positive example of sex. Even in college, I remember a period of time when I argued that sex may have been divinely designed strictly for procreation purposes. Now, as a married man, I still struggle reconciling my confidence in the design of sexual enjoyment with my ingrained negative impressions as a child that "sex is bad".
Recently, I had to ask my wife anatomical questions about my new daughter. I wasn't quite certain exactly what was what.
I am a product of my environment. I am sexually screwed up. And even with my awareness of this, it's probably permanent.