Most parents probably shudder at the thought of having the sex talk with their teenagers. I certainly can relate. My own experience was less than ideal; my mom never gave me “the talk.” I’m not sure if she thought I was too innocent or if she simply didn’t realize I had boyfriends. The first time I visited the gynecologist, I was already eight weeks pregnant. As if a first Pap smear isn’t daunting enough, add being 20 years old, never having been before, and already expecting a baby to the mix. I was in tears throughout the exam.
It would be easy to point fingers at my parents for my situation. My mom never discussed birth control, and like every teenager, I thought, “It won’t happen to me.” I was knowledgeable about where babies come from, yet I took my chances. Nine months later, I had a baby with a guy I had known for less than three months. That baby turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me and shaped who I am today, but the journey was tough for a long time.
Fast forward 16 years, and that baby is now a tall, charming, intelligent, and witty young man. Until recently, he had little interest in dating, but he’s now fallen for a girl he’s been close friends with since eighth grade. Their relationship is blossoming, and I couldn’t be happier for them—she’s clever, kind, and a bit quirky, while he’s warm, smart, and romantic. I adore their budding romance.
That is, until I unexpectedly walked into the family room and found them sprawled on the couch, their faces stuck together.
Whoa there!
I attempted to handle the situation diplomatically. I stomped toward them from the other room to give them a chance to straighten up, but, to my annoyance, they didn’t budge. I snapped my fingers and exclaimed, “Inappropriate!” not really knowing what else to say. They slowly sat up, but the moment I left the room, they resumed their cozy position. We had previously had “The Talk,” but I felt like we hadn’t fully prepared him for these moments.
We pride ourselves on being open and accepting parents. We want our son to know he can talk to us about anything without fear of judgment. He understands that we’ll support him whether he identifies as gay or struggles with substance use. He knows that college isn’t the only path, as long as he’s pursuing something he enjoys and isn’t just lounging around. Plus, he knows to use protection if he chooses to have sex.
Discussing these topics has been straightforward for us, often laced with humor. While he’s learned about sex education in school and knows that he should be responsible, I realized that knowledge alone doesn’t prepare someone for real-life decisions. My husband and I pondered why individuals sometimes lack common sense in these situations, concluding that it’s often about comfort and preparation, not just the heat of the moment.
Now, as a mom in my thirties, it’s easy for me to casually say, “Just wear a condom.” But that doesn’t equip him for the moment when he has to make that choice. We wouldn’t send soldiers into battle without training, so why would we leave our kids unprepared for potentially risky situations?
We sat down with him and broached the awkward topic of what had happened on the couch. I advised him to keep his mouth shut and listen. I first told him that while their behavior is typical for young couples, it was quite disrespectful given that I was only twenty feet away watching TV. I’ve diapered him, nursed him through tonsil surgery, and he still kisses me goodnight. I should never have to witness him in a passionate embrace.
Next, we discussed what lay ahead. I reminded him that while he and his girlfriend had agreed to keep it to kissing for now, eventually, they might find themselves in a more intimate scenario. Responsible parents take their daughters to the gynecologist for birth control—how do responsible parents prepare their sons? I instructed him to head to the drugstore and buy some condoms and take the time to learn how they work. I let him know that if he needed guidance, his dad was available. Finally, I asked him to report back once he completed this task.
At first, he appeared confused about the purpose of this exercise. I could see the fear in his eyes when I mentioned buying condoms and the awkwardness of discussing masturbation. I explained, “Girls go to the gynecologist, undress, and let a stranger examine them with tools. Afterward, they have to remember to take a pill daily or get a shot every few months, or even have something implanted in their arm. The least you can do is spend a few minutes figuring out how to use a condom in the privacy of your bathroom.” He realized that his part was relatively easy compared to the alternatives.
Two days later, I was pleasantly surprised when he told me he had bought the condoms. I awkwardly asked if he had tried them out—believe me, it was as uncomfortable for me to ask as it was for him to answer. But this follow-through was crucial, and our embarrassment didn’t matter. He simply nodded, and I left it at that.
I no longer worry about the moment he will have sex for the first time. As a mother who believes that pre-marital sex is both inevitable and acceptable, I did everything I could to prepare him for that experience.
In summary, having the sex talk with a teenage son can be challenging, but it’s essential to approach it openly and humorously. Equip them with the right knowledge and comfort to make responsible choices. For more insights on preparing for parenthood, check out this resource on home insemination and learn how to navigate the journey of fertility with authority from Make a Mom and Johns Hopkins.