This week the internet has seemed to have a sex education theme to it. Somebody (I can’t remember who, but if it was you, remind me I owe you big time) posted a link to this incredibly hilarious account of Julia Sweeney’s somewhat accidental discussion of sex with her 8-year-old daughter about where babies come from.
Then, Mir allowed us a peek into the outing in which she took her 13 year old daughter to see the Vagina Monologues. She asked about how the topic had been discussed in our homes, and I am going to copy her more than a little.
My house was not always a predictable place when I was growing up. (How’s that for an understatement, Sis?) However, I do not really remember any topics being off limits. I don’t remember a particular conversation about “becoming a woman” or “where do babies come from”? I think Mother must have just spoken easily about things when they came up naturally. Or, perhaps, it was all the reading we did that was a bit above our level–my sister won the most notable award with “Rosemary’s Baby” at age 9. We read about sex probably before we even knew what we were reading, and eventually grew into figuring out. Mother was single after I was 8, and when we found her copy of “The Joy of Sex” under her bed, we were interested, but not horrified. The only particular conversation I remember was when I was 16 and started dating a boy with a car. Mother came into my room and sat on the edge of the bed. She offered to take me to get on the pill. I was offended that she assumed that I was having sex. I wasn’t, and I didn’t until five years later.
So, how did you learn about sex? School (either classroom or peers), awkward, stilted conversation with a parent, of just muddling along?