I had to get up in the middle of the night to take a pill, the kind that requires you to eat something with it. So, there  I was at 4 am, begrudgingly nibbling on a piece of cold bagel, and reminding myself that I had to be up doing this because I promised my friend I would stop skipping doses of my antibiotics, creating superbugs, and single-handedly bringing about the downfall of the human race, when I decided to browse Pinterest.

I was groggy, but something on the screen didn’t seem quite right. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I rubbed my eyes, looked again, and nearly choked on my bagel when I realized that my home feed was filled with pins for Christmas crafts, recipes, and sex positions. There sandwiched between the DIY nativity set and a tutorial for charming hand painted ornaments were vibrant, colorful, clipart people getting it on.

I sat in stunned silence for a few minutes. Why was this happening? I’ve never looked up anything weird or adult on Pinterest — I didn’t know there was anything weird or adult on Pinterest — I go there for crafts and recipes and, I can’t emphasize this part enough, NOTHING ELSE.

Yet, there in my home feed were numerous pins offering graphic depictions of things that I don’t want to see next to the baby Jesus.

Pinterest is supposed to be G-rated. I hang out there with my kid. Yes, we’ve already had the sex talk. He knows enough – the how, why, and when of it – I don’t want to have to have the advanced version because my 9 year old and I were looking for a new cinnamon roll recipe for Christmas morning and now I suddenly have to answer questions about what “pillow supported doggy style” is. It would completely ruin Christmas for me. And New Year’s. And every single other holiday forever.

I’ve done my job as a parent and have been as sex positive as I am capable of being. The rest of the details are his to find out later, a pleasant surprise, kind of like when you realize there’s a treat in the middle of a Kinder Egg. “Oh wait, there’s more?!”

Also, I’m probably afraid to know the answer to this, but who is going to Pinterest looking for sex positions?

“I am just so tired of my normal broccoli recipe and same old sex positions. Let’s see what Pinterest has to offer.”

Pinterest is not my preferred place to get that kind of information. What board would I even pin that to? How do you share that pin with your significant other?

“Hey baby, I got something for us to try tonight. Look here. No, over there in between the new Christmas tree skirt I want to sew and that potato recipe I’m bringing to your mom’s house. Yeah, riiiiight there.”

I did a little clicking around and found the culprit. A magazine I follow decided to go crazy and pinned a whole bunch of sex positions to one of their boards. A quick unfollow fixed that, but now the door has been opened – what is really going on in the rest of Pinterest?

Against my better judgment, I did a quick search for sex positions in the Pinterest search bar.

Nope.

My eyes will never be clean again. So, so, so many pins. I had no idea anyone was using Pinterest for this.

Pinterest is my escape from the world – a beautiful, clean, craft oasis. Finding these pins was like stumbling across a rack of hardcore porn in the middle of the Michael’s yarn section. I’m no prude, but some things just aren’t right.

When I go to Pinterest, it’s to relax, it’s to forget about a pill I have to take, or the numerous calamities the world is enduring – it’s not to be reminded that bloggers and middle-aged crafters are doing it – and especially not that they’re doing it in new and inventive ways. Knowledge is not always power.

So, now I’m scarred, and another thing I thought was nice and wholesome is definitely not. I’ll keep going to Pinterest, but I’m scared to know what other pins are hidden out there. Maybe, one day I’ll be brave enough and fall down the rabbit hole of “Dark Pinterest,” but today is not that day.

The one plus from all this? I was completely and totally distracted after I took that pill.

Ava Love Hanna

Ava Love Hanna

Ava Love Hanna is a writer, storyteller, and performer in Austin, Texas. She really, really wants you to use the Oxford comma.
Ava Love Hanna