It felt like I was putting myself in danger when I bought them, and in reality I probably was on some level. Before, all I had ever worn was plain Hanes– the ugly animal print granny panties with a waistband that cut into your skin no matter how big you bought them– that came in six and eight packs at Walmart, so lace waistbands seemed lavish and taboo to me. None of them were thongs, and they weren’t particularly sexy or risqué or anything, they were just cute and feminine and fun, but I was nervous about owning them. Out for the five pairs I bought that day, the most memorable were black and had a butterfly composed of hearts (or a heart composed of butterflies) screen-printed on the back. When I was fifteen, on a rare trip to Kohl’s with three of my four approved friends (yep, the only four girls I talked to when I was fifteen), I bought myself my first cute panties. How I Learned that My Mom Didn’t Maintain the Belief that She Owned My Body and the Way my Father Thought He Did HA note: The author’s name has been changed to ensure anonymity. CC image courtesy of Flickr, Alex Proimos.