My mother is many things, but shy isn’t one of them — especially not when it came to sex.
She always called it sex, too, not one of those euphemisms like “mattress mambo,” “bumping uglies” or “that special hug.” She popped in Nova’s “The Miracle of Life” into the VHS player, and at the ripe old age of 4, I learned where babies come from.
This made my brother’s arrival a couple years later less of a magical experience than one might have imagined.
Despite how boldly she taught me about intercourse, my mother’s willingness to share and discuss sex with me has made me more willing to talk about it like a rational adult.
Yes, I still blush. Yes, I occasionally giggle. But at least I’m talking about it, unlike many of you out there who are having sex.
According to the 2010 National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior, Americans ages 14-94 are engaging in sexual acts more often than ever before.
That’s a lot of people, spanning from those in age groups much younger to those much older than us. Unfortunately, we think that safe sex is just about wearing condoms. Doctors agree that discussing sex (history, habits, preferences) is a vital part of engaging in safe sexual practices. We’ll tweet about our “sexploits” and spend hours reading Texts From Last Night, but we can’t have serious conversations about coitus.
This is a worldwide phenomenon among those in our generation. We are afraid to actually sit down and talk about sex. Parents are afraid that being straightforward with their children equates to permission to have sex — not in my house, or yours, I’m sure. The media also represents sex as something that is best when done spontaneously. Moreover, our innate fears of intimacy leave us scared to call sex as an emotional experience for fear of seeming clingy, naïve or, worst of all, prudish.
Our fears of talking about sex are keeping us from practicing safe sex, and that can have dire consequences ranging from unplanned pregnancy to STDs. We need to be able to talk about sex with our partners, both the casual and the personal, in order to best protect ourselves from the risks we face when having sex.
If we can all rationally talk about sex, we can experience it in safer, hopefully more enjoyable ways. While my “where babies come from” story wasn’t a sugared-down fairytale, it was very informative. I thank my mother for her constant openness and honesty with me.
Although I don’t know if the other parents in my second grade class appreciated my willingness to share this information with their little bundles of joy.
Reach the columnist at Alexandria.Tippings@asu.edu or on Twitter at @Lexij41s
