Three-Time Frank
We all have anecdotes about how awkward it was to talk about sex with adults in our lives. Maybe it was the embarrassment of hearing about intercourse from a teacher you didn’t want to picture engaging in such a deed. Maybe it was that awkwardness between the girls and the boys, once you were reunited after “the talk,” every single person wondering, “Am I normal? Am I the only one who feels like this?”
My favorite story comes from family lore. When a neighborhood father took his son out to the family station wagon to tell his son, the oldest of three, about sex, his incredulous response was, “Wow, Dad! You did THAT three times?!” From then on, he was called “Three-Time Frank.”
Nearly everyone feels awkward talking about sex with their kids. But are we adding that awkwardness? If we are open about sex from the beginning and tear down the mystery, sex becomes “normal”—normal and positive, not awkward. And not “normal” in a “I’m going to run out and have sex right now” way—normal in a “now I know what this is about and what the facts are” way. Look at the Netherlands—they have a strong, open sex-ed component for their youth, and they have one of the lowest teen pregnancy rates in the industrialized world.
When my mother told me about sex, I was too young to know that it was supposed to be awkward. I was fascinated! My mom told me this was privileged information and that sex is something private and special. By sharing it with me, she thought I was ready for this information and the responsibility that came with it (i.e., not telling my younger sister and my friends). I felt big; I felt special: I knew something important that I would need to know for that elusive day when I would be…an adult! I was six.
As I got older, when anyone talked about sex, I didn’t see it as a big deal. I: a.) already knew the information, b.) could discern fact from fiction, or c.) knew I could ask my mom anything—like the time in the third grade when I asked her what a blowjob was and, after hearing the description and proclaiming it “gross,” swore I would NEVER do that! She said I might change my mind some day, but I assured her I wouldn’t. I was nine.
The important point is that a dialogue had been started. I knew that, no matter how embarrassing or private the subject might seem at first, I could talk to my mother about dating, contraception, STDs, pregnancy, abortion and other sensitive subjects. As the ’90s came along and sex became an even more open topic, she would confirm for me that yes, it’s possible to get pregnant the first time you have sex; yes, you can die from AIDS; yes, sometimes men like to sleep with men and women like to sleep with women and some sleep with both; and that while sex could be fun, it’s not something worth dying for.
My favorite story comes from family lore. When a neighborhood father took his son out to the family station wagon to tell his son, the oldest of three, about sex, his incredulous response was, “Wow, Dad! You did THAT three times?!” From then on, he was called “Three-Time Frank.”
Nearly everyone feels awkward talking about sex with their kids. But are we adding that awkwardness? If we are open about sex from the beginning and tear down the mystery, sex becomes “normal”—normal and positive, not awkward. And not “normal” in a “I’m going to run out and have sex right now” way—normal in a “now I know what this is about and what the facts are” way. Look at the Netherlands—they have a strong, open sex-ed component for their youth, and they have one of the lowest teen pregnancy rates in the industrialized world.
When my mother told me about sex, I was too young to know that it was supposed to be awkward. I was fascinated! My mom told me this was privileged information and that sex is something private and special. By sharing it with me, she thought I was ready for this information and the responsibility that came with it (i.e., not telling my younger sister and my friends). I felt big; I felt special: I knew something important that I would need to know for that elusive day when I would be…an adult! I was six.
As I got older, when anyone talked about sex, I didn’t see it as a big deal. I: a.) already knew the information, b.) could discern fact from fiction, or c.) knew I could ask my mom anything—like the time in the third grade when I asked her what a blowjob was and, after hearing the description and proclaiming it “gross,” swore I would NEVER do that! She said I might change my mind some day, but I assured her I wouldn’t. I was nine.
The important point is that a dialogue had been started. I knew that, no matter how embarrassing or private the subject might seem at first, I could talk to my mother about dating, contraception, STDs, pregnancy, abortion and other sensitive subjects. As the ’90s came along and sex became an even more open topic, she would confirm for me that yes, it’s possible to get pregnant the first time you have sex; yes, you can die from AIDS; yes, sometimes men like to sleep with men and women like to sleep with women and some sleep with both; and that while sex could be fun, it’s not something worth dying for.
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