Let’s Talk About Sex

Let’s face it, this probably isn’t in any parent’s top ten comfortable topics of conversations to have with their kids. When I was growing up, while it wasn’t exactly taboo, sex wasn’t something I felt I could talk to my parents about. My education came from school and friends so when I became a mum it was the one thing I chose to do differently. I wanted my children to know that there was no such thing as a taboo topic and that they could always come to me with their problems, questions or concerns.

Proper labels avoid confusion

To make that possible we all needed to be speaking the same language, starting with body parts. Rather than using euphemisms or cutsie pseudonyms we call them what they are. While I respect everyone’s personal choice here, my approach does have the advantage of avoiding embarrassment and ambiguity if doctors are involved. However practical isn’t always socially acceptable, which became very obvious when my young daughter once fell and hurt herself. I was at a toddlers birthday party, making polite conversation with an elderly couple, when she rushed over and between sobs loudly informed me that she’d bashed her vagina!

When it comes to Sex Ed, it isn’t one-size-fits-all (unlike condoms) - my approach is honest and open, other parents gloss over the details, and some avoid the topic entirely. And while there are developmental norms, education is about context as much as age. I learned this when my son was in his first year at school. One day he came home most distressed; a friend had confided that an erection is a sign that a man’s ready to get married. While it’s pretty easy to guess why an only-child was told this by his single-but-dating mum, my young son with his very normal ‘growth spurts’ (OK, sometimes I do use euphemisms) was understandably horrified by the idea he might soon be married off. We had a quick chat about biology then agreed he may be ready to marry sometime around 30!

Where do babies come from?

I think children let you know when they’re ready for knowledge. If they can articulate the question they’re ready for an (age-appropriately packaged) answer. I was pregnant with my fourth baby when my then eight and seven year-old children asked me how babies were made. My accurate but suitably vague answer, “a baby is made when an egg is fertilised by a sperm”, was clearly not cutting it. They wanted more details. “But where do they come from?” and “How did they get into you?” they asked. I did a quick mental scan of all possible answers - a special cuddle (open to confusion and more questions), a special kiss (ditto and untrue), magic/stork/gooseberry bush (um, no), I’ll tell you when you’re older (putting off the problem) - and realised they were probably ready for the answer.

“I can tell you if you think you’re ready to know, but once you know you can’t un-know” I said “And it’s something only a mummy or daddy can tell their child, so you absolutely must not tell any of your friends”. After a moments thought they decided they were ready to know, so I told them.

“Really? Yuck!’ was their response. And that was the end of it, or so I thought.

Last year, 16 years and 3 countries later, I was in a hotel having lunch with my husband when I saw a lady I recognised. She clearly recognised me too so we said hello, but neither of us could work out where we’d met before. We re-introduced ourselves and she told me about herself and her family. As we talked it transpired her sons and my children had gone to the same primary school, so I told her my children’s names in case they were familiar.

“Ah, yes” she said “I remember your daughter. I’ll never forget the child who told my son where babies come from!”

Suffice to say, my children and I have very open conversations of the kind I would NEVER have had with my mum, but none more so than my eldest daughter.

The day after her first sexual encounter she phoned to tell me “because I said I’d let you know when it happened”.  

Yes, I was uncomfortable hearing it (even without details) and there have been times since when it’s felt like she’s overshared or told me things I’d be just as happy not knowing.  But if she wants someone to talk to, I’m profoundly grateful that she feels comfortable confiding in me.  

While the sex itself was apparently unremarkable, the young man made quite an impression on my daughter when at the last minute he failed to honour their agreement to use a condom.  The next morning, in a state of distress, my daughter took herself to her local sexual health clinic and had a full check-up.  Fortunately all the tests were clear. 

As well as letting me know she’s safe, her confidences give me an insight into modern dating that I wouldn’t otherwise have, which could come in handy if I ever decide to upgrade my husband.

Stay healthy with regular checkups

A few months later we were sitting together when her phone pinged.  She glanced at it, looked at me and smiled as she said “good news.  I don’t have any STDs” 

She hadn’t mentioned any boyfriends or health concerns that would make this ‘news’ so I asked “is there any reason you thought you would?”

“No” she replied, “I haven’t had sex since that first time.”   

Now I was intrigued. “Why were you tested if you’re not having sex?” I asked

And her reply stunned me…

“When I went to the clinic that first time, they said they can do the tests by post and registered me for them.  Every week they send me a pack, so I mail them a sample and they text me the result.  They keep sending me the tests so I keep doing them.  Anyway, it’s better to be safe!”

When I finally stopped laughing and suggested she may be taking caution a bit too far, she said “Really?  I’m so worried about catching anything that before I kiss a boy I want to know he’s been checked.” 

“You seriously ask whether he’s been STD tested before you kiss?” I asked.  “Sometimes” she said.  “`Also cold sores. The other night I was chatting to someone in a bar and as he leant in for a kiss, I put my hand up to stop him and asked if he’s ever had cold-sores.  He looked a bit confused then said ‘yeah, sure, in the past’.  So I walked away.  There’s no way I’m catching them either!”

My daughter may have taken caution to the extreme but I admire her commitment; it’s always better to be safe than sorry. Now I just need to have the ‘birds and bees’ talk with my youngest two!