I’ve been at this “teach-parents-how-to-talk-to-their-kids-about-sex” game for 9 fun-fulled years. Nearly all the time this gig is a total blast for me. I have had my not-so-fun moments, like when a group of uber-conservative and religious folks at a conference was offended by something I said and “challenged” (I use quotes because they didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about and their religious claptrap did not help their case) and heckled me for about 15 minutes.
A couple of other attendees who were sitting near them told me later they got up and moved because they didn’t want me to think they agreed with their crazed brethren. I was pretty much undone by this moment and it required a certain number of glasses of wine (3) and a whiny phone call to my BFF before I was recovered enough to go out to dinner with another, kinder, smarter and gentler religious nut-job.
The sex talking gig has it’s ups and downs. Such is life. But it seems that one consistent down is the daddies. Where the are the daddies? Once upon a time, I thought the absence of daddies at my talks was because the mommies needed a break, and they were needing some sex talky support, so dad stayed home and they went to Birds + Bees school.
I figured as word got out about me and my motivating sex talking message, dads would begin to show up more frequently. Inspired mamas would send the baby daddies so they too could join the party! I was wrong. My current daddy to mama ratio is about 1 in 9. My historical daddy to mama ratio is 1 in 10. Sigh.
Here’s the deal mamas: fuck the daddies. Seriously. Fuck them in the traditional sense of the word (if that’s something you already do); and fuck them in the – “fogettabout ’em” sense as well. They are not coming to the party. They get invited, I know they do, but they just ain’t jumping on the sex talk train.
It’s time give up the hope, the idea, the dream, they will suddenly show up all “birds + bees” talking. With their daughters! Their sons! With you! Let go of the fantasy they want to strategize about what and when and who and how to have these life changing conversations.
Give it up, sisters. Ain’t gonna happen. Because if it was going to happen, it would have by now. There are endless opportunities to talk to our kids about sex, love, dating, bodies, boundaries and the whole universe of sexuality. And, as far as I can tell, most daddies are not rising (heh-heh) to this particular occasion.
I can hear the collective sigh. I know. I know it feels like it is ALL up to you. All. Of. It. And I am so sorry about that. Seriously, I feel your pain. This conscious (as I like to call it) parenting thing seems to be driven by moms. Some days I wish I had the more “along for the ride” attitude of my spouse. Note the word *attitude* – his skin is in the game and he’s a great parent – and better than me in many ways, perhaps for this very reason is – his attitude.
And! I can hear the collective Daddy Outrage from those who are fully engaged in these conversations! YOU GO! Be outraged! And get your brothers to step it up. Because when you show ’em how it’s done, they pay attention. When you tell your man-friends to STFU (that’s “Shut The Fuck Up” for you oldsters) when they are clearly and 100% objectifying women, that’s a sex talk.
When you talk about your experience dating, crushing and what you were thinking about when you were your kids’ age – that’s a sex talk. When you say, “I got this” when you are watching a show with your kids and there’s some hook-up style sex. That’s just plain old sexy talk, which I am always 100% behind.
I think I need to sum this up in some way – and all I can think to tell you is this: there is liberation in no longer relying on someone who isn’t able or willing to be part of the sex education of your children. When you decide you are the “it girl” for the sex education in your family, you will no longer feel resentful or guilty because you will get it done and done well.
So get out there and fuck the daddies. They’ll appreciate it, one way or another. 😉