I have always had an inclination to know all there is to know about human sexuality; sex was interesting and ordinary to me, like eating dinner. I wondered why people around me did not talk about it, while sex was everywhere. This curiosity came quite early on. I was a result of my surrounding culture, born into the age of Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, low-rise pants, midriffs, belly button rings and the early days of the internet. Around nine, my two lesbian moms and I took a trip to Las Vegas. Images of huge-breasted women littered the ground everywhere I walked. They were tiny little advertisements that got littered on the ground, little promises of strip clubs and happy ending massages. I suppose I was young and small and closer to the images than most adults. They never really left my head, I began to think that this was the way I must grow up to be. As if the idea of becoming a woman was but a societal performance, an adherence to a list of unspoken but very real rules every girl must obey. This is social construction at its finest, and it impacts everyone. But I noticed a huge dichotomy when I was young, and it was that whilst I was receiving no sexual education, I was nonetheless seeing extremely sexualized images of women. An early innocent curiosity about what sexuality is and what it could become was immediately affected by the surrounding images on CD covers and the ground of Las Vegas.