Alef: The NEXT Conversation

The Foreskin, and the Man Behind It

By Sadie Caruth

This past summer, as the latest circumcision debate brought forth discussion, controversy, and judgment from all sides, I remained silent. Until a few years ago, circumcision was an everyday part of Jewish life that I had always taken for granted. Why on earth would I need to ever sit and ponder the pros and cons (health-wise or sexually) of foreskin? I suppose I was a little naive, but I always assumed that this act, with its roots steeped in biblical Jewish tradition, was so commonplace that running into an uncircumcised penis was about as likely as getting hit by lightning — certainly not unheard-of, but not something that happens every day. Perhaps it was this sort of naivete that contributed to my status as a late-bloomer.

It was the stuff of good chick flicks that my first real boyfriend, the person to whom I lost my virginity, was (and still is as far as I know) uncircumcised. Having had very few sexual experiences prior to my official “first time,” I didn’t have a whole lot to compare it to. Now that I have slept with other men, the distinction is pretty evident. My current preference for one or the other has absolutely nothing to do with the actual size and shape of the organ itself. I care much more about the background and upbringing of the man attached to it. What I came to learn through my first experience is that the foreskin (or lack thereof) may tell you more about the background and upbringing of the man attached to it than it will about how good he is in bed.

See, this first boyfriend, my first sexual partner, was a gentile (gasp!). He came from a part of the world where circumcision is strictly a Jewish tradition; if you are not Jewish, you are not circumcised. His foreskin was a sign of what he culturally was and was not, and he was not shy about telling me that none of his sons would ever be circumcised either. Period. Sure, we were 22 years old, and not anywhere near thinking about marriage or children, but I was shocked by his blatant disregard of my culture in favor of his own. What struck me was that we weren’t just having sex, we were in love too, and this was not the kind of quick judgment that I expected from someone who loved me.

As it turned out, our sex life did affect the rest of our relationship in ways that I never could have predicted. Was it his refusal to circumcise any of our potential male offspring that broke us? Certainly not — I like to consider myself nontraditional and open-minded. The foreskin issue was more of a symptom than a cause; what did eventually lead to our break-up were the negative associations he made with Judaism as a result of his upbringing.

What have I learned from all of this? When it comes to choosing sexual partners and boyfriends, what a guy brings to bed with him is not as important as why he brings it.

Photo by James Bowe, licensed under Creative Commons.

Read more articles from Issue 08: “The Sex Issue.”

Tags: circumcision, love, sex

Posted by Sarah, Friday, February 19th, 2010, 11:30 am, The Sex Issue.