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You see they need to be exposed to its glorious message: female teens are painfully, burningly and aggressively horny.
Almost a decade ago, when I was 15 (the same age as the film’s protagonist) there was no Caitlin Moran writing blatantly about learning to masturbate, there were no self help websites telling you that your burgeoning sexuality was normal and there was no Diary of a Teenage Girl.
Ever since the Film Classification Board slapped new flick Diary of a Teenage Girl with an ironic 18 rating - prohibiting most teenagers from seeing it in the cinema - critics and viewers have rushed to laud its brutally honest representation of youth sexuality.
I watched the film in utter glee, thinking the whole time how much I hoped that girls across the country would watch badly pirated copies on their laptops.
When I was 25, I married a man 12 years older than me.
You might even say Western men are better able to maintain their desire for younger women in a way that isn’t as pedophilic as others.
The desire to protect young women from abusive or predatory sexual relationships is a noble sentiment, and one that no reasonable person could disparage.
But is it possible that this sentiment, whatever its merit, could be depriving young women of their right to have gratifying sexual relationships in their sexual infancy, and keeping them from the essential right of passage of making mistakes?
Again, the motivation behind this legislation is to protect young people from abuse.
But it doesn’t take away from the uncomfortable fact that Diary of a Teenage Girl presents unabashedly: sex with someone who is skilled and experienced is a far more gratifying experience than sex with someone who doesn’t know what a clitoris is.
We smile when we hear stories of people such as Lord Byron, or more recently US rapper Chris Brown - who both lost their virginity before the age of 12.