The Sex Talk

A friend recently described for me how her 11-year old son told her he had "held hands with a girl" during a movie they watched while out at a summer program activity. She was mildly and understandably anxious about it. My first reaction was one of stunned realization. I smiled, said, "oh oh", but really thought the incident sounded entirely harmless. This is of course because I hadn't had the same conversation with my 10-year old daughter the night before while getting ready for bed like she had experienced with her son. Are we at that point already?

Admittedly, I haven't had an in-depth conversation with my daugther about sex except to point out that boys and girls are different and can make babies with each other. I know, I'm not exactly going to win awards for that one, but it made me think about my thoughts and feelings on the subject of "boys" in relation to me when I was that age.

I am the 3rd child of 4. My brother is 3 years older than me, my baby sister is 8 years younger than me. I have a sister who is a year older than me, but since we were treated like twins and spent most of our childhood practically joined at the hip, our experiences are one and the same. (This background information is essential as you will soon realize.)

At the tender age of 10, I was for all intents and purposes considered a tomboy. I wasn't as rough and tough as some of my more rougher and tougher counterparts (they know who they are), but I was pretty sure at that age that I didn't like a boy enough to touch him or let him touch me. My reluctance for mere physical contact stems from a conversation I had with my brother when I was about 8. My older sister sat next to me on the floor of our bedroom (which also doubled as the very sophisticated "Barbie City"), Malibu Barbie in hand while the baby lay sleeping in her playpen. I guess they changed the name to play yard in the late nineties when it seemed barbaric to keep your young 'uns in "pens". This is how it went:

Big Bro: "Do you talk to the boys?"

Me: "Barely and only during kickball."

Big Bro: "Do they try to talk to you?"

Me: "I don't know. Does screaming at me to 'pitch' better count?"

Big Bro: "It does. It's the first sign that they 'like' you."

Me: "What?"

Big Bro: "Boys always act like they hate you when really they like you."

Me: "That doesn't make any sense. Can we go outside and build a fort now?"

This is when the conversation should have ended as my over the top enthusiasm for the subject was quickly dwindling. I didn't really care enough about boys to give them much thought outside of who would make the best addition to my team so we could win at kickball during recess.

Big Bro: "You know they only want one thing."

Me: "My lunch money?"

Big Bro: "No, silly! They want to get inside your panty."

Me: "What? Why?"

Big Bro: "They want to touch your body and make you red."

Me: "What?"

Beads of sweat begin to emerge on my forehead and I become almost catatonic.

Big Bro: "It's true and a well known fact."

Me: "What happens after I turn red? Do I die of heat burn?"

By this point, I have cotton mouth, I can barely breathe let alone speak and my knees begin to sound like the bamboo poles in a game of Tinikling as they get beat and tapped against each other.

Big Bro: "Close. You burst into flame and then everyone knows it's because you let a boy touch your body."

My mouth is agape, my eyes have begun to tear up ridiculously and I am without words. Not to mention, the eyes of my sister are as big as saucers and the baby is now awake because of all the commotion around her.

Big Bro: "So, now you know. No funny business!"

The thought of a fiery display confirming the naughty things I could have been doing was almost too much to bear. If my brother was trying to scare the living crap out of me, he had succeeded, ad infinitum. I did not touch a boy, or let a boy touch me...until much later down the road after a few health education classes and my first experience at 16 holding a boys hand did not end for us in a heap of ash.

It's true that I was completely traumatized by this story for many years after I heard it and I wouldn't wish the same horror on any child of an impressionable age. However, it did work. Is this the sex talk I'm going to have with my daugther? Yeah, probably!