Or “Did Mom have lubrication when you made me?”
Or “If you go on a date with that person, will you have sex with them?”
Kids. Are. Curious. They are trying to figure out the world, and for a big chunk of their early life, you are really their only reference point. They are going to try to get as much information out of you as they can … and you don’t have to provide it.
“Hey, that’s a private question and I’m not going to tell you about if I have sex.”
“It’s generally considered rude to ask people about how they have sex or what their sex was like.”
Just like your children have the right to consent to receiving knowledge, you have to consent to providing it. You can decline to provide answers for any number of reasons: it is private information about you; it’s information that they do not have the required basic information to understand; the answer will be harmful or scary for them to hear.
If you do not think a child is prepared to hear the answer to their question, it might be tempting to probe why they know enough to ask it. Terrifying thoughts might be racing through your brain—who hurt your baby so they know that? It is valuable to find out where they got information you didn’t provide them—you need to know if there is something harmful happening or if someone is being careless with what they access in front of your child—but it is also valuable to maintain comfort when discussing these sensitive topics. Instead of grilling your child for information or letting on that you are scared that they know these words, approach fact-finding with humor.
“Psh, that’s a heck of a word! Where did you hear that!?” said with a laugh will likely elicit a much different response than a panicked “Tell me why you know that word!” Once you have the answer to the question, knowing how to proceed becomes much clearer.
“Oh, you read that word in one of my romance novels? Well, I know you are able to read them now, but those books have content that your brain is not quite ready for. If you want to read about people falling in love and all of that, we can get you some books that are written for kids your age. They probably have a bunch of kissing in them and everything!”
“Ahhh, your brother was playing video games and you heard another player in the lobby call someone that? I’m going to remind your brother that he needs to have his volume turned down and that he needs to be muting people who talk like that. That word is a grown-up word, and it’s also very rude to call other people that word.”
“Thank you for telling me. Those kinds of movies aren’t made for kids your age, and your grandma shouldn’t be watching them while she’s watching you. I’m very proud of you for telling me and helping me keep your brain safe.”
In none of those situations did a child hear information they weren’t prepared to hear. Instead, their caregiver set a boundary (I will not share that information with you), informed the child why that information wasn’t being shared (the information is not suitable for you to have yet), and reassured the child that they were not the reason the information was being denied. Remind the kid that the most important thing is their safety, and that sharing the information with them at that time is not a good way to keep them safe, while also keeping the door open for future conversations. It’s not that the child shouldn’t know the information, it’s that they shouldn’t know it yet.
Our willingness to set the boundary of what we will and won’t answer for our children is also vital modeling for our children, because as we know—kids talk. Kids want to know the answers to all the questions. “Where did that come from?” “How did you get that?” “When did that happen?” And on and on. If we are the kind of parents who are going to share our knowledge, we must also help our kids know when they should and shouldn’t share their knowledge.
Kids trying to figure out their world will seek information from any source they can. For children who have their questions answered honestly, having a boundary phrase is helpful for when their peers start asking them questions. In my family, the phrase is “Ask your safe adult.” I remind my children frequently that just because they have this information doesn’t mean that somebody else’s parents want them to have the same information. That’s not our choice to make. “If your friends ask you questions, even if you know the answer, the answer has to be ‘you need to ask your safe adult.’ ”
This guideline does become a little bit relaxed as kids get older—when children begin dabbling in romantic relationships, they must share information with their partners to protect everyone’s safety—but children who are in middle childhood or the preoperational stage of development should deflect questioning. Children who are just learning the very basic mechanics of where babies come from are not educated enough to accurately answer the questions of their peers, and as such, the answer is always “Ask your safe adult.”
Consent for knowledge is also heavily impacted by how you present the information and what kind of kid you have. When my mom fell down the stairs and gave me an impromptu anatomy lesson, it was because she has a penchant for gravitas. She takes biology very seriously and believes that all human body topics should be treated with the utmost respect. And I appreciate that about her a lot, but sometimes you just need to laugh about the absurd stuff that bodies do. Sometimes the only way to feel normal about something that is “normal-adjacent” is to laugh about it. That is to say, how we present information can make a big difference in how our kids receive it.
One of my very favorite people had a sticky penis when he was younger. Before you get weirded out, what I mean is that his penis had adhesions. He was uncircumcised, so when he would try to retract his foreskin, it would get stuck. For the most part, this didn’t cause him much issue … until he hit puberty. When he needed to be able to retract his foreskin for things like cleaning, enjoyment, and self-exploration, he was having a lot of pain. And when he was twelve, his doctors determined that for the health of his penis, he needed to be circumcised.
Naturally, this was a big freaking deal. And mixed in with the nerves and the discussion about healing time, there was some embarrassment. Thankfully, this person had probably the coolest older sister in the history of older sisters, who happens to be a very dear friend of mine. She knew that her little brother needed humor to cope with this ordeal, rather than discussing it with grave seriousness. Though he was a very serious kid in a lot of ways, he didn’t need that kind of tone when approaching this particular experience. He needed it normalized, especially because there were going to be questions from his peers in the locker room after soccer. She knew she had to take some of the seriousness out of the experience and add a little bit of humor and casualness. And she did that … with Frankenweenie.
She made jokes about his post-surgery “Frankenweenie.” She talked about Frankenweenie. She asked how Frankenweenie was doing. Sometimes she would refer to how people might scream if Frankenweenie were to come alive like Frankenstein’s monster. This was the perfect level of juvenile humor for a twelve-year-old recovering from a circumcision. And it was the exact armor he needed when, inevitably, his peers made some comment about him being a bit of a freak for having to have “dick surgery.” He’d already made all the Frankenweenie jokes; he didn’t need to worry about what his weird peers would say.
One of the final aspects of consent for knowledge is acknowledging that we aren’t always the ones our kids want their answers from. Sometimes, our kids just don’t wanna freaking talk to us. Though our family strives to have an environment of open, safe communication, there are some things my kids just don’t want me to know about them, and that’s okay. There are sex topics I just don’t want to talk about with my mom. So how could I possibly feel that my teenager should have to hear everything from only me? Surrounding our children with a community of safe adults and resources that are accurate and reliable is a great way to make sure they are getting the information we want them to have, even if they don’t want to ask us. Giving our children an out—another adult or adults, books, keywords, safe search advice, etc.—lets them know that we trust them, and we respect them, and we know they are competent to give their consent for knowledge.
CHAPTER 4: IN BRIEF
Though consent is most often discussed in a physical sense, consent for knowledge is also a valuable concept. Learning new information can elicit strong emotions, particularly when the information is surprising or unexpected. In children, these strong emotions may result in a child no longer wanting to seek information or feeling like they have done something wrong by asking a question. Consent requires that both parties be fully informed, so consent for knowledge acknowledges the potential outcomes of sharing information in order to provide informed consent.
Key Takeaways
“If a child is old enough to ask, they’re old enough for an answer” does not account for the source of the question or the emotional preparedness of the child.
When an elementary school–age child asks a question that may have a surprising or scary answer, informing them of the potential outcome provides them the opportunity to opt out of hearing that answer.
A child being able to disengage from an upsetting conversation is similar to an adult choosing to stop watching a scary movie or taking a break from reading upsetting news. It does not mean the child will avoid the topic forever—it means the child is protecting their mental well-being in that moment.
PART 2 MECHANICS (BIRTH TO AGE 10)
The idea of talking to your child about body parts that you yourself do not have can feel intimidating. You wonder, How can I possibly be accurate in my explanation and empathy when I don’t understand at all what it’s like to have one of those? One of the questions I’m asked most is “How do I approach body talk with my child when their anatomical makeup doesn’t match mine?” I have heard so many stories from people who have asked someone else—a friend, a family member, or, most often, the other parent—to explain the facts to their child, only to find out later that just having the same bits didn’t make the experience much easier, and the child is just as mystified as they were before.
It’s clear to me that parents are worried they are going to make mistakes—that they are either going to overexplain or underexplain something and end up doing damage to their child. In an attempt to avoid the damage, they do one of two things—they either put the topic off for later, or they pass the child and their questions along to someone else.
Putting the topic off isn’t inherently bad—if you need time to look up information and gather your wits so you can accurately answer your child’s question, then by all means, take the time you need! But if the parent is putting off the topic in the hope that their child will forget or that they will find the information elsewhere (the alternative source I hear most often is “in-school sex ed”), then there is increased risk that the child will feel they can no longer seek information from their caregivers, leaving them vulnerable to getting inaccurate information, or, worse, harmful information from someone who seeks to hurt them. This is not outside the realm of possibility, especially considering that comprehensive, accurate sex education and healthy relationships education is not the norm in the US, and is indeed only required in SEVEN states, while twenty-two states require that abstinence be stressed.
It is also not inherently bad to ask for help in explaining topics that you have not and will never experience. As I mentioned, I will always and forever advocate for children to have at least three safe adults who they can go to for questions. It’s hard to stomach sometimes, but I know I will not be my children’s first choice for some questions—they don’t necessarily want me to know all of their business, and privacy is their right. So if there are other adults whom you trust to tap in to provide information for the safety of your child, then you should include them in your child’s emotional and intellectual safety net. If “Hey, Mom, why do I have a long penis?” is something you think your husband would explain better, then you can feel free to say, “Well, sweetheart, it’s called an erection, and your dad can help you understand what to do when it feels like that.” And if you as a dad discover that your daughter has had a leak of menstrual blood on her sheets overnight, it’s okay to help her change the sheets and recommend that she discuss with her mother how to prevent it from happening again.
But sometimes Dad isn’t available, and sometimes Mom isn’t around. Sometimes we are the only and best option for our children to seek information, and as our children’s first and best defense against harm, we need to arm ourselves with information and confidence when it comes time to explain these sensitive topics. Information and confidence are what the following chapters are here to help you build. Discussing the mechanics of the body—from an individual level—is where body talk starts. Helping you and your child understand how it all works as their bodies grow and change, from exploring and understanding what each part of the body does all the way to discussing how bodies can work together to make new life. It’s this simple: We should be able to explain all their parts as comfortably and accurately as we would explain their elbows.
CHAPTER 5 Self-Stimulation and Exploration
“Now that you have your period, you’ll want to make sure that you’re washing yourself well. Don’t use soap because it’s not good for your vagina, but you can take the showerhead down and use the warm water to rinse everything off.”
I keep saying I don’t remember much from my childhood, but I remember this.
Great, I thought, more crap to do in the shower. My hair is already so hard to wash—this is just another annoying thing to do.
I have never asked my mother if she knew what she was doing, in part because I don’t feel like I need to—I believe she absolutely knew what she had done for me. You see, when I first took down the showerhead with the intention of washing myself more thoroughly, I had no idea what I was in for.
It. Felt. Great.
This isn’t that kind of book, so I’m not going to get into detail, but suffice to say … my showers got much longer after that. And not a single person, including my mother, said anything about it. And there was no shame, no embarrassment, nothing—just a very clean, safe, and happy kid.
Though it might cause some debate with philosophers, I can say with confidence that humans are aware of their bodies—I know this because we have what is called kinesthetic awareness. A person’s level of kinesthetic awareness—awareness of their body and its position in space—is actually considered a measure of intelligence by some scientists. Kids spend most of their early childhood developing their kinesthetic awareness. They know when their bodies are moving, when their bodies are still, when their bodies are free, when their bodies are controlled—and they often know when their bodies are changing. For many children, part of understanding how their body is changing includes exploring their body. Yes, I mean touching themselves.
