We had just eaten dinner and my mom was washing dishes in front of our garden window. My brothers had left the room to play Nintendo and I knew I had a good window to speak with her alone.
Anxiety filled my stomach with butterflies as I climbed the chair to sit on our oak dining table. I had immense guilt for knowing what sex was…the kids at school had whispered and told me about it and the jig was up – I knew, for the most part, how I became a baby in my mother’s belly.
I was 7 years old. I took a deep breath and decided to come clean; after all, I knew I wanted to avoid the future awkward conversation.
“Mom, I know what sex is,” I blurted out. “So we don’t have to have the talk. Like, ever.”
I’m pretty sure I caught her off-guard. She put down the dish she was scrubbing and turned to me, resting the towel on her shoulder.
“Oh yeah? Well, what is it then?” she asked.
I took a deep breath before imparting my incredible knowledge. “When a man and a woman love each other they get naked and hump. Then, 9 months later, a baby is born.”
“Well, that’s right for the most part,” she said. “I’m glad you know. You’re too little to know anything more, so we’ll revisit this a few years down the road,” she said.
That response seemed to appease me. I felt so embarrassed as it is to know what I knew.
A few weeks later, my mom came home with some books from the library showing illustrations of where babies came from and the reproductive parts that go with the process.
I was horrified, but relieved at the same time, to finally see the truth. I thumbed through the pages, and it slowly clicked.
My mom left me alone with the books. But after awhile, she stopped by the couch where I was looking at the books and said one thing: “Sex only should happen when you’re married to a man you love.”
We never discussed sex again….that is, until college…
This was written for Mama Kat‘s Writing Workshop. I chose prompt 4 asking to describe your sex education experience.