As I lounged in the park, my 9-year-old son’s voice floated toward me. “Hey Mom, is this a handle for a bike?”
He stood beside a towering pine tree that had previously been our safe zone during a game of tag. Almost immediately, I noticed a large black object nestled among the pine needles, and I felt my heart sink. This was definitely not a bike handle—or a flashlight, for that matter.
“Uh,” I hesitated, scrambling for an appropriate response. “I’m not sure.”
But I knew all too well. It was a dildo—or maybe a butt plug. I cautiously approached, keeping our dog on a tight leash.
“Did you touch it?” My voice pitched higher than usual, betraying my urgency. I was taken aback by the discovery, feeling unprepared for this moment.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes wide with curiosity. “But only for a second.”
My younger daughter, who was six, sprinted over, eager to join the excitement. “Don’t touch it!” I cautioned.
“OK!” she replied, then gleefully kicked it. “What? I didn’t touch it!”
I rummaged through my bag for hand sanitizer, only to realize I was out of luck. Baby wipes, remnants of our diaper days, were no longer in tow.
“We’re leaving!” I declared firmly. “And whatever you do, don’t touch your face!”
Anyone who knows me from my younger days would attest that I’m no stranger to the goings-on in public parks. I spent my teenage years in the East Village during the late ’90s. I’m sure I left a trail of joints, beer bottles, and youthful exuberance all over those spaces. In fact, I once shared passionate moments with my high school boyfriend in the very park where my children found this unexpected object. While part of me accepts the reality of public displays of affection, the shock of encountering a dildo forced me to reconsider this perspective.
As a mother, I want to shield my children from the harsher realities of urban life while simultaneously embracing my feminist beliefs. It’s important to me that my daughters grow up with a healthy understanding of their bodies and an encouragement to confidently occupy their space in the world. I aspire to be their trusted source of knowledge in this area.
Yet, as we left that peculiar scene, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had missed an opportunity to discuss something vital—pleasure.
In discussions around sex education, boys often receive implicit messages about pleasure alongside their anatomy lessons, while girls are left in the dark. Although my upbringing was open when it came to body education, it lacked honest conversations about female pleasure. When I first asked my mother about masturbation at the age of ten, her response was, “No, but you can.” While she wasn’t shameful, she didn’t encourage an appreciation for the pleasure that one’s body could offer.
This absence of dialogue about pleasure gnawed at me as we made our way home. I worried that talking about such topics might lead to inappropriate curiosity or obsession.
“What was that thing?” my son queried.
I fumbled for words, mumbled something about hand washing, and finally said, “It’s something people put inside their bodies.”
“Oh, like a fake kidney?” he replied confidently.
“More like toilet paper,” I corrected, chuckling at the misconception.
My daughter looked at me incredulously. “Toilet paper? That doesn’t go inside your body!”
Realizing that honesty was paramount, I stopped and turned to them. “That was something people use for pleasure in their anuses and vaginas.”
For a moment, they were completely engaged, hanging on my every word.
“Why?”
“Because it feels good.”
As we continued our walk home, their curiosity faded, and soon they were back to discussing what was for lunch.
Once home, we washed our hands immediately, and the girls resumed their play, seemingly unfazed. No one asked for more details about what they had discovered.
My earlier fears about opening a door to inappropriate behavior were unfounded. I learned that discussing sexual pleasure with my children can empower them rather than instill fear. I’m grateful I addressed the situation and provided them with an understanding that sex should be about personal pleasure—a message I hope will resonate with them as they grow.
For more insights on sexual education and personal empowerment, check out this post on artificial insemination kits, which can provide valuable information and resources.
In summary, navigating the complexities of discussing sex and pleasure with children can be challenging yet rewarding. It’s crucial to foster an environment of openness and honesty, allowing them to understand their bodies without shame.