There are many things you grow-up believing: if you eat carrots, you’ll see in the dark; if you pull faces, you’ll stay like that; and Father Christmas will only ever visit if you’re good. One by one, we gradually realise that the majority of these things are little white lies, however, there is one thing that I continue to believe. My parents have only ever had sex once… They had me and that was it. End of.
Tragically, this probably isn’t the case but it raises a certain question: how open can we be, or rather, should we be with our parents over sex? For most, our mothers are the ones we’ve confided in over the years: they’ve let our tear-led mascara stain their shoulders; cooked us comfort; and kissed it better but does this mean we should now share tales of last night’s sexual exploits with them? As my father frequently likes to remind me, once upon a time our parents were our age: they got drunk; got naked; and “had their fun.” OK, they couldn’t Facebook stalk, ‘Sext’ or Skype but this doesn’t mean it was all Shakespearean sonnets and chastity.
On the whole, since University started, there appears to have been changes in our intimate interactions with our parents. Whilst there are some girls that will always have been open with their mums and others that will never share anything more than DNA, the majority of us have noticed a direct change in confidences since Freshers’ Week started. At school, if ever a boy came to stay at mine, the guest bed, always the one furthest from my room, would be proudly made-up and the parents’ door would always be left slightly a jar. (Woe betide any boy who forgot the creaky floorboard…) Since Exeter, however, boyfriend has been promoted from spare room to my room with nothing more than a guest towel folded on my bed to signal the transfer. Holland Hall provided everything but spare beds for the boys we brought back, and as a result, parents Exeter-wide seemed to have accepted that they now have little control over our extra-curricular activities. With this change in control has come a change in communication as what was once an X-rated gossip in the girls’ locker room is now a dinner-table conversation for the whole family to enjoy. In one recent display of confidential carnage, a friend’s mother accosted her over breakfast asking; “darling…do you ever hear your father and me??” If that isn’t enough to put anyone off their porridge, I don’t know what is…
As much as we may hate to admit it… our mothers are the ones that know us the best. They’ve put up with everything, done everything and love us in spite of everything so why, when it comes down to that three letter word does telling “everything” become so awkward? When it comes to sex, you do not want to be sharing the nitty-gritty so instead why not grace the topic in a mature and sensible way? The Birds and The Bees chat might have been the low point of your life when you were 12 but now we don’t giggle at every mention of the word “willy”, such topics may have more potential for actually being of use. As long as you keep the conversation relatively detached, it’s as likely to be as constructive as any other piece of advice your parents may grace you with… just don’t throw in personal experiences… in this case, caring is not sharing and you might never look at the naughty stair in the same way again.