The other day, my 9-year-old son, Max, blushed and giggled as he recounted something from his day. He was scanning my face for a reaction, and I was doing my best to hide my shock while appearing open-hearted and understanding. This was a pivotal moment, and I didn’t want to let this opportunity slip through my fingers to teach him something meaningful. My first instinct was to lecture him—about what, I wasn’t sure—but instead, I decided to ask him questions.
The story he shared involved a friend from his third-grade class who had managed to sneak a phone into school. Somehow, this kid found a picture of a naked woman and proudly shared it with his classmates. I always thought this conversation would come around middle school, not in elementary school. Having grown up before the internet was a part of life, I have no reference point for at what age children typically encounter their first nude images online. Back in my day, kids found magazines stuffed under mattresses, not a flood of explicit images readily available at their fingertips.
I’ve tried to mentally prepare for what I call “The Birds and the Bees 2.0”—a modern sex talk that goes beyond the basic biology and dives into the realities of sexuality in the digital age. So, I took a deep breath and had the talk with Max. Or at least, my awkward attempt at it.
“Max,” I started, trying to keep my tone neutral, “a lot of those naked pictures on the internet… well, not everyone in those images really wants to be there. Some of them are even young, like kids.”
He looked puzzled. “Kids like me?”
I swallowed hard, not wanting to frighten him, yet needing to be honest. “Yes, some are. And even older teens are still technically kids. Sometimes they might take a picture without realizing that it could be shared everywhere online.”
“That’s awful,” he replied, visibly disturbed.
“I know. And sometimes, the pictures or videos you might come across don’t reflect reality. The people in those images—especially women—aren’t always treated with respect, and sometimes they’re even harmed. Plus, their bodies often look different from real people’s bodies. There’s a lot of makeup, and they may be altered in ways that make them look unlike anyone you see in real life.”
“Oh, gross, Mom!” He covered his face, clearly embarrassed by the thought of ever wanting to see someone naked.
“I get that it’s gross to think about now, but it’s important to talk about,” I said, hoping to break through. “Most naked bodies you’ll encounter in real life won’t look like those on the internet. I need you to remember this because I love you, and I want you to respect everyone—especially when it comes to their bodies.”
We chatted a bit longer, and he asked questions. I did my best to answer appropriately for his age, which was a challenge. It was a raw, awkward, yet necessary conversation.
“You know,” I continued, as he shifted away like he’d rather be anywhere else, “looking at naked pictures isn’t inherently bad. One day, you might even find it interesting. But I want you to think critically about what you’re looking at before you dive in.”
As I spoke, I saw two versions of Max: the playful boy with curly hair and mud-stained pants, and the young man he’s destined to become—someone who will inevitably develop secrets and crushes, and may even seek out explicit content online.
I realized I needed to connect with both of these boys. Part of me wished I could just say, “No porn on the internet!” Or even, “Sure, you can look up stuff, but check with me first!” But the more rational part understood that these approaches would be futile. As he grows, my son will have access to screens and the internet. His father and I may be able to manage what he sees on family computers, but on his phone or friends’ devices? That’s a different story. In fact, a recent study from Northwestern found that 43% of teens have encountered pornography online.
It’s highly likely that one day, Max will actively seek out explicit images online. I want him—and all my boys—to understand that sex can be beautiful, positive, and enjoyable. I want them to approach it without guilt or shame. I want them to learn about consent and recognize that not all pornography reflects real-life sex. They should approach it with a critical, mindful perspective, aware of the complexities of sex, power, and representation.
So, I’ll keep having these conversations—this Birds and the Bees 2.0 talk, as awkward and gritty as it may be. Because, like many parenting challenges, I know I can’t control everything my children see. But I can help adjust how they perceive the world around them.
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In summary, navigating the modern conversation around sex and the internet can be challenging for parents. By approaching these talks with openness and honesty, we can help our children develop a respectful and thoughtful understanding of sexuality in today’s digital age.