This might be getting into tmi territory, but oddly enough, sexual intimacy wasn’t ever a problem. We lived out in the country for a while, and the church was on a farm, so between barn cats and purebred show-dogs and the occasional horse or bull, it was pretty obvious what the physical mechanics were that led to pregnancy and offspring, and the church was pretty sex-positive, in a really opaque, ‘lets use lots of euphemisms and sort of talk around the subject’ sort of way.
Now, I didn’t know any of the names of anything, and couldn’t have identified actual organs (male or female, internal or external) if my life depended on it, but the act of sex (between husband/wife, missionary position, with the hope of children) was considered a positive and pleasurable thing, and I think that’s part of why they wanted us married off so young, so they could continue to foster that attitude.
Besides, as soon as I got to college I fell into the theatre crowd, and they immediately embraced me, loved me, told me I was safe, and introduced me to The Vagina Monologues, RENT, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Once I discovered it was not actually possible to die from blushing and acute embarassment, it was really empowering. Sex is awesome.
My continuing issue is body image. While sex was ok, nudity/immodesty was most certainly not, and I wore long skirts, long hair, and long sleeves from 6-16.
I still feel a lot of panic and shame when I am in situations where I can’t be in clothing that covers me adequately. (Where adequately is interpreted by an ancient prudish nun.) I was 25 before I was brave enough to try to wear a bikini, and I wore it to a close friend’s house, attended only by people I’d known (and most of whom I’d even fooled around with before) and I was so freaked out by all my skin that I wore my towel into the hot tub. 
It’s not a problem that I can’t work around without too much trouble in most situations, but it does make the doctor/patient situation a lot more complicated and panic-inducing, and I’ve not had a doctor yet who understood and sympathized with my difficulty. Which is fine, I’m not a delicate flower, but it does make those visits excruciatingly uncomfortable, which means that I don’t get the regular ‘feminine mechanics tune-ups’ that I should, because I get panic attacks when I try. That’s why the whole pregnancy/childbirth thing is contraindicated, at least in my opinion now. I’ve been working on it, but I’ve got a long way to go yet, and I have to consider that I may not ever ‘get over it’ to the point that those sorts of visits are not terribly stressful.