So Thursday I have to give my fifteen year old cousin the “sex talk.”
I have to talk to her about sex because no one else will.
Not her mother, my Aunt, who believes you shouldn’t discuss those things. Not my mother, who barely even knows how to discuss sex and sexuality with me.
I have to to talk to her about sex so she doesn’t go through what I did in my early teens. I have to talk to her about sex so she knows how to protect herself — from an unwanted pregnancy, from an STI — and what to do in case either occurs.
I have to talk to her about sex because she needs to know what is right, what is wrong, in terms of being comfortable and not allowing anyone to go past her limits. That sex is not for making someone else happy, or because someone else wants you too. That sex is pleasurable, and can be a wonderful experience, when you are completely comfortable and aware of what you are doing. That being a sexual being is nothing to be ashamed of.
I have to tell her what no one told me, and what I had to learn for myself.
Any suggestions on what else I can say to her?
Honestly I don’t remember a lot about how I learned about sex growing up. I remember that it was always held as something special in my family – not necessarily for marriage (although that was ideal), but for someone who you really “love love love”.
I *do* remember sex ed, though, in sixth grade. It was called Family Planning or something to that effect.
It was taught by our lesbian P.E. teacher; she was very no-nonsense and I liked her.
At one point, on the overhead projector, she put up a diagram of the male body, including the genitals. We were given a handout or some such with the same drawing and additional information. She asked, “Is anyone embarrassed? Don’t be afraid.” I raised my hand – you bet I was embarrassed. Sixth grade? Diagrams of a naked adult male? Yes.
But… I was the only one who raised my hand! Now I was REALLY embarrassed.
I knew everyone else was lying. They had to be. Right? I couldn’t be the only one embarrassed to be learning about this, could I?
I have never forgotten that moment, and I am kind of proud that I was able to stand up and admit that the subject matter was new and embarrassing for me. I like to think I’ve taken that approach through the rest of my sexual life, a kind of openness that has made sex fun, never too serious, but special.
Now that I am an adult, my relationship with my mother has shifted from one of parent and child to more like mentorship. My mother has done all the parenting she can and now my life is up to me. The honest openness that always existed between myself and my mother has now grown even stronger and more open because she realizes I am an adult now and there is now nothing left in the world she needs nor should protect me from anymore.
As a result, I’ve been able to learn a lot about who my mother really is and learn about her past and all the wild things she did “when she was my age” (and yes, I’m doing all those things now). I’ve been able to share pretty much anything in my life freely and openly without judgment.
About a year ago, I had probably the most embarrassing sexual experience of my life (so far). After a good month and a half of heavy flirting between myself and a much older guy, we finally ended up back at his apartment after a party one night. What followed was the most awkward, mutually unsatisfying, fumbling bad sex which ended when he fell asleep while I was giving him twenty minutes of oral sex. Feeling mortified and angry, I was left with nothing else to do but grope around for my clothes while he snored. I left and made the long walk home at 4 in the morning.
The next day, still feeling the sting of my supposed sexual inadequacy, I called my mother to recount the sad tale and we had a good laugh. The best part, she was able to give me the best line to use on the day I had to face him again (we had mutual friends). She said, “Sweetie, here’s what you do. The next time you see him, you smile big, throw your arms around him in a big hug and say ‘Wow, you’re looking good. You must be sleeping well!’” I’ve never been brave enough to say it, though I certainly have had the opportunity.
This is the difference between the advice my mother gave me when I was a child versus what she gives me now. When I was young, she was honest and open, but she was a parent. Her guidance was parental. She taught me about the mechanics of sex, about relationships, about self respect, pleasure, protection and all those good things.
Now that all that has been taken care and I’m waist deep experiencing it all for myself, she can now share with me snarky one liners, and saucy stories from her past. Rather than the information being passed from her down to me, it is now a mutual sharing of experiences. It’s not that I don’t still have a mother. I do, it just that our relationship has matured and changed and so have our conversations about sex, relationships and all aspects of life. I can’t think of a time when I won’t be talking to my mother about sex. My father is a different story.
–Submitted by A.
I don’t really remember the first time my mom talked to me about sex. I remember her buying me a book called “Where Do Babies Come From?” before I went to sleep away camp for the first time, the summer after second grade. She was worried that kids would tell me things that were untrue and wanted me to have some understanding about it before the rumor mill got to me.
The only other explicit conversation I remember having with my mom was in 7th or 8th grade. I said, “Mom? What is ‘eating out’?” She told me that it was “when a guy stuck his tongue in your ‘hole.’”
When I was 17, I told my mother that I was thinking about having sex with my boyfriend, and my mother took me to get birth control. And that was the extent of our talks.
Because my mother and I never really spoke about sex and sexuality, I never really thought about my mother’s views on sex and sexuality. When I was in college, I became very interested in the subject of sexuality and did a ton of research on the topic. I began exploring my own. I got a job working at an adult toy store. Sex and sexuality were a huge part of my life.
My mother knew this and accepted it. We would have general conversations about things that had happened at work or I would relate stories of customers that had come in, but we never talked about OUR sex lives. However, I believe that it was because of my openness and open-mindedness about the subject that my mother eventually came to me to talk about her own sex life. I don’t know that my mother had ever been able to talk to anyone about her sex life before. She is fairly conservative, as are most of her friends, and it was not a subject that was seen as acceptable to talk about. So, I was a little shocked when she brought it up.
She came to visit me at school and we went out for drinks. And once she started talking, it all came out. The years and years of being unsatisfied with her sex life with my father. How, when they were first married, she would try to wear sexy lingerie for him and he never paid her any mind. How, in their 25 years of marriage, he had never let her give him a blow job, even though she always wanted to. How conservative and afraid to try new things he was. How, as he had gotten older, he began to have erectile difficulties and that made him so insecure that he was afraid to even attempt to have sex. And she cried.
I bought my mother her first vibrator shortly after that conversation. She thanked me profusely, and she loved it. And then she asked me to go shopping with her for things to bring on their 25th anniversary trip. We picked out things that would be fun, but wouldn’t intimidate my conservative father. Some lubricant. Some flavored massage oils. Edible body paints. A small vibrating cock ring. And through talking with me, and with my encouragement, my mother brought these things with her on the trip. And she got up the confidence to tell my father that she wanted to try them. She told him what she wanted. And he listened.
Their sex life is still a work in progress, and some people may find it odd that it ended up being her daughter that ended up helping my mother to begin to find her sexual self. But we are from two different generations, and my generation is more open to discussing issues of sex and sexuality. And it was my openness about the subject that finally encouraged my mother to come to me for help. I love that my mother and I have this kind of relationship. It may not be typical, and it may be a reversal of roles in a lot of ways, but it works for us.
And I couldn’t be more proud of my mother. She is proof that it’s never too late to find sexual satisfaction.
–Submitted by Britni from Oh My God, That Britni’s Shameless
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