Episode 32: Nobody Told Us About Our Bodies

This week, AJ & AJ dive into one of the quietest sources of childhood shame: not being taught about their own bodies. They explore how silence around anatomy, puberty, and what's "normal" left them carrying fear, confusion, and trauma long into adulthood.

"A" takes listeners back to the summer after eighth grade, when she attended camp with the popular girls from school. An offhand comment during a conversation about girls' bodies—and how many "holes" they have—sent her spiraling. Having experienced childhood sexual abuse, she became convinced that maybe her body had been permanently damaged or disfigured, and she carried that fear in silence because she didn't know who to ask or how to ask it.

She also reflects on another kind of wound from that summer: friendship trauma. Because her earliest attachment figures had been so unkind, she found herself repeatedly chasing acceptance from girls who treated her as an afterthought—the perpetual "friendship sidepiece." Looking back, she realizes she missed the opportunity to connect with someone who genuinely shared her interests: the drama kid on the bus, whose heartfelt rendition of Savage Garden's "To the Moon and Back" should have been the sign that she'd found her people. It's a bittersweet reflection on how trauma can teach us to pursue familiar pain instead of authentic connection.

"J" shares her own experience growing up without a basic understanding of her anatomy. She talks about how even saying the word vagina felt taboo in her world, leaving her with years of confusion about what was happening to her body during different points in her menstrual cycle. Changes in discharge, hormones, and other perfectly normal bodily functions felt mysterious and alarming because no one had ever explained them.

Everything shifted when she watched the film Obvious Child. In the opening stand-up set, the comedian jokes about her underwear looking like it had been dropped into a bucket of sour cream. The audience laughs, and for J, something clicks. In one joke, she realizes that other people with vaginas experience the same things she does—that what she had spent years worrying about was actually ordinary, relatable, and nothing to be ashamed of.

Episode 31: AJ & AJ are talking about the examples their parents set—and the unhealthy relationship habits they had to unlearn as adults.

"J" kicks things off by reflecting on the song "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," the tune her parents considered their love song despite it actually being about a relationship falling apart. Looking back, she realizes that their marriage modeled two very different but equally unhealthy conflict styles: her father erupted with explosive anger while her mother shut down completely, stonewalling and fleeing from difficult conversations. Early in her own marriage, "J" recognized that she'd inherited her mother's instinct to withdraw. She shares how learning to stay present, communicate honestly, and work through conflict with her husband became one of the hardest—and healthiest—changes she's ever made.

Then "A" shares a painful memory from college when she came home hoping for a simple night out with her mom—a dinner and a movie. Instead, her father became furious that they had made plans without him, triggering an explosive argument that escalated until her mother nearly crashed the car before numbing the pain with wine. Sitting silently through dinner, "A" coped the only way she knew how: replaying Love Actually scene by scene in her mind to mentally escape the chaos unfolding around her. Together, AJ & AJ explore how the relationship patterns we witness as children shape us, and the work it takes to recognize those inherited behaviors before choosing a healthier path.

Episode 30: AJ & AJ are talking first impressions—and all the ways they can fool us.

"A" kicks things off by reflecting on the surprising way people react to Little A, and how adults often project their own judgments onto a toddler. How can a baby possibly have that kind of power? That conversation leads "A" into a deeper reflection on motherhood, raising a child while healing from her own trauma, and the constant questioning that comes with trying to break generational cycles. Oddly enough, The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives becomes an unexpected source of reassurance, reminding her just how present, patient, and intentional she is as a parent. She also sees unsettling parallels between Taylor Frankie Paul's toxic relationship with her ex and her own past relationship with an addict, recognizing just how easily her life could have taken a very different path.

Then "J" revisits Wes Anderson's The Royal Tenenbaums. The first time she watched it, she simply didn't get it. The humor, the style, the pacing—it all missed the mark. Years later, after leaving Mormonism and growing into a different version of herself, she gave it another chance and completely fell in love with it. That experience becomes a reflection on how our first impressions are often shaped by who we are in the moment, and why people—and art—sometimes deserve a second look.

"J" also shares how first impressions can evolve in the opposite direction. One friendship began with an immediate connection before slowly revealing patterns that reminded her of the painful dynamic she had with her bullying sister. In contrast, she recalls a coworker who completely misread her when they first met, only for that relationship to grow into one of mutual trust and genuine friendship.