As fate would have it, my intended topic went off course with the inception of the Sexy Mamas Blog. I’m now mulling over my own youth, and how sex talk (or lack thereof) has informed my current state as a sex-positive adult, educator, and writer.

My mother is a wonderful woman who successfully raised three daughters while balancing a career. She also also attended an all-girls Catholic school: from elementary school to high school, Catholic nuns, guilt, and repression informed her understanding of the world. You get where this is going, yes?

My mother and I are incapable of talking about sex.

My knowledge of sex came not from my mother, but from a friend in the fourth grade; when I shyly went to my mother for further information on the topic (in form of a written note), I was taken to the nearest bookstore and gifted with the children’s classics “Where Did I Come From?” and “What’s Happening to My Body?” Aside from the requisite mother-daughter talk on the mechanics of menstruation, the topic wasn’t again broached until I entered my mid-teens. At that point, I was asked (albeit tentatively) if I wanted to use birth control, then reminded to make use of condoms. Pleasure-based sexuality was never discussed, nor masturbation or oral sex; and as for same-sex or queer relations? Forget it… you may as well tried proving that unicorns exist.

Like many young people, I was a precocious and inquisitive thing. When I couldn’t glean sufficient knowledge from my mother, I found it for myself by discovering my father’s slim Penthouse stash, then through the friendship of a bravely out-and-proud high school friend, and finally by moving away to the big city to attend art school. All stereotypes holding true, I was greeted with a bevy of sex and variety of sexual expressions amongst my classmates, which was further complemented by involvement in the Riot Grrrl scene and work with ACT-UP. Not only was I academically, politically, and physically aware of the myriad aspects of sexuality, but I came into my own as a fully sex-positive young woman.

But not all of us are able (or wanting) to escape to the big city; and not all of us have my mom.

I’ll be the first to admit that I was fortunate. Given that my mom was parenting in the repressive Reagan era, she went above and beyond the call of duty. After asking those in my age range, I’ve found that many mothers of this era would not have discussed sex at all, let alone bring birth control to the table. Conversely, I wish I’d been able to discuss how disappointing my first go at sex was; or my first success with a male partner; or my first female partner; or even that I write and talk about sex for a living. None of those topics are (or have been) up for discussion: my mother becomes screamingly embarrassed by the mere mention of sex (in relation to either herself or me), and I in turn become embarrassed by her embarrassment.

My mother is by no means common. She has worked hard to understand alternate sexualities and the fluidity of gender, and knows that one is not a “sick pervert” for engaging in BDSM. However, I cannot discuss these things with her on a personal level, and I will always mourn that absence in our communication. It is for this reason that I would like to celebrate the next wave of Sexy Mamas who are ferreting out these new and innovative lines of communication with their own little ones. It may seem an impossible task, but seeing these mothers do it with such thoughtfulness and aplomb is giving me hope for a new generation of sex-positive parents and children.

A happy upcoming Mother’s Day to all of you… my own beloved mother included.