I’m a very sexual person and I’m not embarrassed or ashamed to admit it. I talk openly about the things I’ve done, the things I need, and the things I want. I readily admit that I was just fourteen years old when I gave my virginity away to a twenty-two year old married man. Should I have waited until I was older and had a better understanding of the value of my virginity? Probably, but there’s nothing that can be done to change it now. That infinitesimal speck of life experience is what has made me who I am today, and that I wouldn’t alter for any amount of do-overs.
With all that being said, I now have a thirteen year old daughter. A daughter who is smart and beautiful, and holy Jesus is she a hard-headed, pain in the ass. She has exhibited no signs of being boy crazy, and trust me, I know the signs well. She’s a watcher, and she doesn’t ask questions. She figures it out on her own and that’s not always a good thing.
The other day I checked the history on the computer as I often do, to see what she’s been up to besides spending an ungodly amount of hours liking stupid status updates on Facebook. When how to be really good at sex popped up in the list of visited sites between Woozworld and YouTube, I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.
Holy fucking shit.
I shouldn’t have been terribly worried because the google search landed her on Redbook Magazine. Seriously, how much are they going to teach her? That’s like the Disney channel compared to the naughtiness Heather and I write about on Vagina Antics. I began to wonder what aspects of her would most resemble me. It wasn’t easy having such a strong yearning for sex when I was a teenager. It was confusing, and I made a lot of mistakes while trying to figure out why I was so different from the other girls my age. I also earned myself a scandalous reputation in the process. The worst part, and most dangerous, was committing the better part of my teens to a single relationship that fulfilled my desires yet nearly killed me.
My first knee jerk reaction was to jump online and purchase a chastity belt. My second idea was to lock her in the garage for the duration of puberty, but then I realized I’d have to let her out to shower and use the bathroom and that’s just way too much work. And then, of course, there would be the “concerns” of Family and Children’s Services. I hear they kind of frown on that sort of thing.
After I calmed down and began to think rationally again, I saw an opportunity to talk to her about sex when most kids her age are learning about it from their friends the way I did. Am I going to divulge details about blow jobs and rimming? Fuck no, but I want her to know that she can count on me to give her the best answers I can, no matter how ‘icky’ they are to her. She was embarrassed when I confronted her and tried to deny it was her curiosity that got her busted. I assured her that I wasn’t angry, but if she continued to lie about it, life as she knew it would cease to exist because I’d take her phone, her iPad, and her TV. Then I’d make her tell me how cool I am every day for a week. If I can’t have a little fun with it, what’s the point?
If she turns out to be a sexual being like me, so be it. We do share the same DNA. I can’t shield her, but I can educate her. My job at this point is to try to keep her from making the same mistakes I made. I’ll be supportive, and most importantly, I’ll tell her that if she does decide to have sex before she’s ready to handle the responsibility that comes along with it, her kidneys will fall out of her vagina. Because when it comes down to it, I’m a good mom.
