I should start this by saying I am completely comfortable with my sexuality and talking about sex and sexual health.
My friends and I discuss our sex lives openly and my parents are aware I’m not a virgin.
I gave my young sister the ‘how babies were made‘ talk at the tender age of 11. So I may have been using barbie dolls to help illustrate my point and looking back it was probably more traumatic than beneficial for her, but still. She had to learn somehow.
So I’m not really sure what it is about going to my doctor that turns me from a confident, young woman in my 20s, to a pathological liar trying to desperately cover up any sexual escapades I’ve had in my lifetime. It’s like as soon as she fixes her piercing gaze on me (read: perfectly lovely face), I start blurting out things that would make Pinnochio proud.
On my very regular two-yearly check up (lie #1), I once again had a visit which turned into a desperate running race of my brain trying, struggling and failing to keep up with my mouth.
Lie #1:
Doctor: When was your last pap smear?
Me: Oh, two years ago.
Correct Answer: WRONG. I’ve put off a pap smear for three years. Nothing major, and I hardly think she was going to get super judgey doc on me, but for some reason I thought if I owned up to the fact I was a year late, I was going to be reported down in a secret little diary that Doctor keeps of all her useless patients.
Lie #2:
Doctor: Do you have a partner?
Me: Yes!