Pregnant with my first child, a daughter, it occurs me
that I’m lost on what to tell her about rape. Before we found out the sex of
our child, I must have been presuming it to be a male, and I had so much to
say: I looked at raising a male child as a very feminist responsibility for us.
He would enter the world with tremendous privilege and the ability to either
perpetuate or destroy a lot of harmful behaviors and expectations. But then,
with a remote-like device rubbing back and forth across my then-small-but-hard
stomach, several shots confirmed that we were having a girl. We were thrilled
and stunned, not because we expected differently but because finding out
anything about another human being inside your body is stunning.And then I thought, “What will I say to her
about rape?”
I cannot give her any safety or preventative advice
because there is none.
Of course you want to bestow all possible information
that might in some slight way ensure an inch of safety, but any advice to my
daughter about rape would imply that rape is the fault of the victim. What
could I possibly say? There are no clothing choices that prevent or cause rape.
There are no rape-specific locations. There’s no way to screen a person for
rapist tendencies. An overwhelming number of rapes occur in the the home of the
victim or the home of a friend or family member, and their rapists are more
often than not someone they know and trust. In short, rape is the fault of
rapists. There aren’t preventative measures that can be taken, and I don’t want
to set my daughter up to blame herself if something horrible happens to her or
a friend.
Do I tell her how to handle rape, as if it’s normal?
Do I normalize rape to my daughter?My second thought, then, is that I can teach her what to
do if she or someone she knows is sexually assaulted. But then I think, “So is
that what we’re doing? Preparing our daughters for potential rape?” I don’t
want to normalize rape, and I don’t want that burden on her. Further, I don’t
want to teach her early on that this is a thing that should occupy space in her
mind and heart, or inhibit her, or worse – make her fearful of men. But I also
don’t want to let her go through adolescence and early adulthood without
knowing the truths about sexual assault, knowing that she can come to me and
her father and the police if she witnesses something, and knowing that rape is
not something to be ashamed of. Those are lessons I never heard but needed to
know on more than one occasion.
Do I tell her about my own history with sexual
assault, and, if so, when? With what goal?When I envision this conversation playing out in the
distant future, she is a jaunty adolescent shirking off my advice by default.
And wanting to add meaning and value to the importance of the topic, it feels
important to be honest. I was sexually assaulted twice between the ages of
seventeen and eighteen. Both times, I told no one. (I pause at this moment to
know that some readers will ask why I said “sexually assaulted” and if I mean
“raped.” There is a desire to sterilize the experience, to disconnect it from
an emotionally loaded term. But there is also a weird ranking of assaults that
I’d like to avoid. To explain, the first incident was an assault, or
specifically, an attempted rape. I managed to escape the situation by the sheer
luck of being about two seconds faster in answering a ringing phone. At that
point, I had already been bruised and hurt and was utterly terrified. The
second situation didn’t work the same. We were in my room, so there was nowhere
really to escape to. There was no phone call to answer. It ended with a
struggle. But I wouldn’t say either was more wounding than the other; they were
both violations, acts of violence, and traumas that I buried deep and carried
quietly for a decade before I told my husband.) A part of me feels that my
trust and honesty with my daughter requires my openness about these things, but
to what effect? Again, I don’t want to teach her fear. I do want to show her
reality, but not a scary one. What is she is a very sensitive, empathetic
person? I don’t want her to feel pain for my past. And if at some point I can
frame all of this appropriately, making it informative and real but not scary,
showing her the strength of surviving and assault but reiterating the
likelihood that she won’t experience it, at what point do I have that
conversation? Many women experience sexual assault at a young age, before
driver’s licenses enter the picture. Do I talk to her about this in middle
school, when she is only first beginning to enter the dating scene? Do I
connect this with other topics, like sexual orientation and healthy
relationships?
What do I say to my daughter about rape as a concept, a
possibility for people she knows, and a part of my own experiences?
@WTFISUP- That is a heavy one. I am so sorry that you had these experiences. However, I applaud your proactive stance on wanting to warn your daughter. I can only share with you what my family shared with me. When I was very young, it focused on being aware of my body and understanding that no one had the right to touch it. Also, that I should never be afraid or ashamed if someone does. As I got older, these conversations grew to being aware of your surroundings and safety in numbers. As a teen, I didn't always heed these warnings and had to learn from my own mistakes. Knowing your experiences may be a stronger warning for her.
oh, @wtfisup, I love you so much. So glad you're my LB. We are also having a daughter, and I have had this internal conversation a million times as well.
FWIW, my mother was raped twice in her teens (she was a runaway hippie living on her own as a teenager in NYC at 16 in the '60s, so she experienced a lot of pain and danger, actually), and she was very open about that with my sisters and me. I don't think you will do harm to share your experiences with your daughter; she will come to empathize with you and see those scenarios through your eyes in a way that may help to shape her worldview--not in a negative way, but perhaps in a more cautious (and certainly more feminist) way.
There's a poem that I love by a poet that I love that gets to the heart of this, I think. You may have heard it already--
I feel like, as a society, we're very well versed (or at least getting there) in how to talk to kids about molestation. Then we're fairly okay at talking to them about safe sex. But I don't hear of people talking to their kids about rape so much, as a thing outside of childhood.
But, I mean, that's kind of a larger problem: we're all really eager to say that molestation is terrible and sexual abusers of children are horrible. But when a woman is a victim of sexual assault, people get squirmy and weird and ask questions about where she was, whether she was drinking, and throw out terms like "gray rape." We don't ever talk about molestation like that, we don't blame children when bad things happen to them, and we expect zero tolerance for those criminals, generally speaking. Hence all the shame people feel, or just the "don't talk about it' vibe.
At least in that respect, I'm really confident she won't grow up in that house or in that culture, at least not immediately. H is as feminist as a person can be and has the certifications to back it up. He's already put aside books of feminist theory for the kid, which, of course, she'll never read because they'll be 20 years old. And she'll never see her father or the other men in her life talk about women as sexual objects, because we just don't have folks like that in our circle.
oh, @wtfisup, I love you so much. So glad you're my LB. We are also having a daughter, and I have had this internal conversation a million times as well.
FWIW, my mother was raped twice in her teens (she was a runaway hippie living on her own as a teenager in NYC at 16 in the '60s, so she experienced a lot of pain and danger, actually), and she was very open about that with my sisters and me. I don't think you will do harm to share your experiences with your daughter; she will come to empathize with you and see those scenarios through your eyes in a way that may help to shape her worldview--not in a negative way, but perhaps in a more cautious (and certainly more feminist) way.
There's a poem that I love by a poet that I love that gets to the heart of this, I think. You may have heard it already--
I'm on the other side of this. I was preparing to have a girl. I had the dialogue all planned out...How to break beauty stereotypes and make her confident, how to encourage brains over beauty and that true beauty is being generous and kind, how to stand up for herself and demand respect from every man or woman...And yes, I gave a lot of thought on how I would teach her to protect herself or how to handle sexual abuse situations. I think as women, we know what needs to be said. We know what we wish had been said to us, and there is a large responsibility we have as women to raise the women we wish we were...Or try.
What I didn't realize, is that all of the things above are the exact same things I will teach my son. And now I feel I have an even GREATER responsibility, because raising a son right can end so much of that circle of abuse in women and can correct crazy beauty standards and other issues we women deal with on a daily basis. While we want to raise strong women, I think we often forget how much men have to do with the answer. I have friends with boys who just want to raise manly men, I don't think they have given much thought to anything beyond that. I feel lucky that I will be able to raise a feminist man, who respects women, who doesn't see them as objects or cardboard cutouts, who fights for equal rights within the sexes, and who VALUES all human beings. And we will talk about rape, and I think it will be easier somehow with a boy...I'm not sure why.
And as someone who's mother shared with her her own stories of abuse...I think you absolutely pass that on to your children when you feel they are ready. My mother's experiences taught me so much, and inspired me everyday to be conscious of decisions and actions, to listen to my gut, to know what the right way I should be treated, and to always have sympathy and compassion for others. I didn't have to walk in her shoes to learn every lesson, because she walked that path for both of us.
We all have our heavy pensive thoughts. I have had a constant dialogue in my head about what being a mother means to me, and there are definite doubts that I have because of my past. I doubt my own worth, even after fighting for so long to get pregnant. I doubt my own strength, because I never had positive reinforcement in my life. I was not sexually abused, but I was physically/verbally/emotionally abused for half of my life. I get so scared sometimes that something has been wired into me that will make me a monster to my child...Like I will turn into the hulk or something. But, the fact that I am aware of this, and the fact that theses are my thoughts, I know I will be ok. I know that cycle ends with me, and I know that if I can just brush off that doubt I will be the best mother I can be.
I just wanted to chime in and applaud your vulnerability for bringing up this topic and your own experiences, @wtfisup. I hope I can have that kind of strength when the time comes for me to have this conversation with my LO.
@wtfisup, I couldn't agree more about the double standard. No one is ever going to say that some 5-year-old deserved to get molested or was "asking for it," no matter her behavior, actions before the molestation, reaction to it--nothing. That child is a victim and we're all very, very, sure about that. In fact, I think someone said that people who molest children deserve the death penalty in the UO last week. But when it's a teenage girl, a teenage girl at a party, a teenage girl at a party in a miniskirt, a drunk teenage girl at a party in a miniskirt...well then, we get awfully clammy, don't we? We're not nearly so sure she was even raped, much less that her rapist deserves..what? A sentence longer than the average pot possession sentence?
My mother started talking to me about sex when I was 4 and about rape when I was about 10. I was very, very young, and it was really uncomfortable for me, but I think it kind of built the way I viewed the world and how I approached my relationships in high school. I was a pretty sexual teenager (lost my virginity at 15, but to a boy I was in a committed relationship with), but it was never what some people talk about when they talk about their teenage sex experiences. My mom and dad knew from the beginning, my boyfriend was open with them...it was OK. Not traumatic. They let him spend the night at the house so that sex would never be something we snuck off to do in the back of a pickup truck. It was controversial and lots of parents were just waiting for me to get pregnant but, you know what? Everyone was having sex, but I was having sex safely and in my own bed. I knew about consent; I wasn't afraid to tell my boyfriend I wanted to wait to have sex (which I did), and I wasn't afraid to tell him or my mother that I was ready. I wasn't afraid to tell him that I didn't feel like it on any given night, or that something he was doing didn't feel good or hurt.
Anyway, I think about this a lot too. Will I let my daughter's boyfriend spend the night at the house? Yikes. That's a terrifying thought. I just don't know. I just really don't know what I will teach my daughter about sex and her body. I'm with you...there's no right answer here, I don't think.
"And all the house elves came to help, and THAT was the day Voldemort was defeated!"
The thing about kids is that they constantly provide you with opportunities for teaching. You don't have to think, "I should discuss this with her before her first date, on her 16th birthday" or something like that. My daughter is 6. She asked why she can't walk the neighborhood like other kids, I took it as an opportunity to tell her a little bit of information about the predators in the world. I didn't say something like "some people look for little girls to rape", but instead said something along the lines of "when someone pulls a child off of the street, often they never come home. Some people are selfish and want to take children away from their parents and that's why you should run home if you ever feel uncomfortable around someone on our block. You should scream if someone approaches you. Never stop screaming until you reach me. Don't help people find their dogs, let them give you candy, or ask you for directions. There is no reason for an adult to try to talk to you on your way home from the bus stop."
I have extreme paranoia when it comes to my kids. More often than not, I drive her to the bus stop unless her father is able to watch from our front door that morning. I don't let her spend the night with friends yet, I feel like she is too young. So when she gets an invite, I just tell the other parent that I don't feel like she's mature enough or that I'm ready to be away from her, both true statements. I've given her a house key in case I get pulled over or some crap on my way home. She knows who I would send to get her in case of emergency.
When she is old enough to understand more about the world and the messed up people in it, I'm sure there will be ample opportunity to discuss sexual assault in adult terms. I can't prevent things from happening, they will. But I can attempt to teach her about guarding herself, being aware of her surroundings, and following her gut feelings.
@shannonliggett, I think you're making great choices. FYI - my husband and I aren't religious, but we also want our kid to decide what they believe.
I think teaching healthy sexuality begins by just talking about it and not associating it with shame or punishment. And not criticizing others' bodies in front of your kid. A lot about sexuality is connected with general physical self-image. I also think it's important to just explain the different lifestyles and orientations to a kid. My best friend's three year old knows that some men love women and some men love men. He's just happy that everyone loves him.
Framing things as discussions, not statements, and asking her now she feels about things will help her know that she has choices and that nothing is shameful.
My husband has 3 moms and 1 dad so the whole people love who they love conversation came up early and passed without a fuss. DS struggled only with the fact that MIL has short hair therefore must be a boy and if that's the case why must he call her Grandma.
I was sexually abused as a child and was almost a witness to another when I was 9. If I hadnt managed to flee the house and he hadn't chased me, it would have happened. A few years later I went to foster care. My parents then were very strict. I didn't go out until I was 16. I wasn't allowed to walk the town, I only left on a date in a car. Marie used to say matter of factly, "Do you know who walks the street? Streetwalkers!" Lol! I always laughed, but I got her meaning. The girls who were rumored to be hooking up at parties were the same ones whose parents let them roam around and Marie was a teacher so she heard it all. I wasn't allowed to leave city limits, go into peoples houses, or go out to the lake. We lived in a small town 3000 people. Everyone knew you. I stayed mostly in the lines. Mostly. That just meant that DH and I had to find a dark place in town to crawl into the back seat. I had no cell phone until I moved out and my curfew was 11, I couldn't go out until 7pm. All teens did was go to Pizza Hut, cruise the strip from the bowling alley to town square, and sit in lawn chairs on the square and talk. That was 2003-2004ish... It wasn't so long ago, but my children are growing up in a world that will be vastly different.
I have no answers, but what it think a lot of it is feeling it out and knowing what is best for your kid -when would be appropriate to share stuff like that. Some stuff starts young -using anatomically correct terms when they are young (not cutesy terms -God forbid something did happen to them and no one else knows your cutesy words for penis, etc). I think that honesty and openness will make tougher conversations as they get older slightly easier (hopefully). I think ensuring they are comfortable with their body and comfortable asking questions about yours/SO makes tough conversations easier. Ultimately, I think as they get older kids see how bad things can happen to good people, even their contemporaries. I had my share of friends dying or experiencing terrible things. I think you just do the best you can to raise a confident, moral, and responsible person and some of It is just chance. Share your experience/knowledge and just pray or hope it all turns out okay.
Anna Kate 10.17.2009
Alexander 6.10.2011
Baby Girl 6.2014
Ladies, let me start off by saying I am so grateful to be a part of this amazing board.
@LadyMacaron, thank you for your thoughtful response. I admit that I teared up reading it because I feel the same way. I wanted a girl and to teach her how to develop inner beauty and to be strong and brave and to perhaps break gender stereotypes. The issues of domestic and sexual and relational violence are ones I am passionate about. You brought up an excellent point that as a mother of a son, my job is to raise him to be respectful and honorable and to treat all women as they deserve. (You said this all much more eloquently than I am, but I assure you I'm trying to say the same thing!)
Although this is a slightly different topic, this thread is for questions about life regarding children, and I have one. I saved sex for marriage, as did my husband, for religious reasons. Although my faith is important to me, I recognize that faith is personal. I don't want to force it upon my children. I would love for them to also save sex for one person, but I recognize that may not happen. Not only that, but growing up hearing "sex is bad and off limits" (when the message should have been "sex is beautiful between married partners"), I had some mental and emotional blocks when I was finally "allowed" to have sex. I am not as sexually confident or comfortable as I would like to be. How do I encourage my children to make the right choice for them and to be confident on their decisions?
*I cannot stress enough that I am passing zero judgment for those who have made different choices. I hesitate posting my question in fear it may sound as though I think everyone should have made my same choices - that is not true. Please let me know if I can clarify anything!
This is my story exactly. I, too, saved sex for marriage and have strong convictions behind it, and would love to share those with my children. I also was raised legalistically and it brought a lot of guilt and shame into sexuality in general for me, and there were several things I had to overcome early in my marriage. I think the way I HOPE to overcome this with my children is by always being open to talk about sex and how wonderful it is. It was created to be enjoyed by both men and women, can be something very beautiful. My parents didn't talk about sex to me, and when it was spoken of, it was from a strictly biological standpoint, and then of course the rules of how ALL physical expression will lead to sex and is therefore sinful. I was so afraid to do ANYTHING! Thankfully DH and I were able to learn a lot together :-) I think if I can try to make it a topic that is open and not something to be ashamed of, I will have more abilities to share with my children what the Bible says about sex and what I believe about sex in the context of marriage. I want my children to know that sexual desires are natural and good things, not something to be buried until that magic moment when you say "I Do." Even if they DO wait until marriage to have sex, I want them to know they can think about sex and desire sex in a healthy manner before that point. Hopefully keeping a dialogue open will allow for that. I also think this goes along with how I teach my faith to my children, not just how I talk about sex in the context of my faint. I want to live my faith for them and be honest with them about my relationship with Jesus. Hopefully as they see my faith in me, it will lead them to seek their faith and relationship with God out of a love for Him, not out of a feeling that they need to follow mommy and daddy's rules.
Again, let me reiterate what PP said that I hold NO judgment to people whose beliefs and choices are different than mine. I know when to have sex is a very personal decision and a lot of factors go into that.
Thank you for this thread, @wtfisup . I worked as a
volunteer Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Crisis counselor in hospital
Emergency Rooms for a little over 5 years in my 20's. Becoming a state
certified Rape Crisis Counselor was an experience in itself, but the actual
work, I can say without any dramatics, was life changing. We worked with women,
men and children and it was through a non-denominational program. Basically, in
the ER a nurse would ask if the patient wanted to speak with someone, and if it
was my shift, I'd be called in (in the middle of the night) to work with the
survivor until they were released or checked-in to the hospital. Long hours,
lot's of police, doctors, sometimes child protective services. Sometimes I
worked through an interpreter. These were the most important moments of my life
to date.
I learned so very much about societal views, family views,
insecurities, the often helpless push and pull of returning to a home - by
choice - where you are not safe, as well of the lack of resources for survivors
of attacks. I sat with one patient as she waited for xrays, and reminded her
that no one deserves to be hurt. She nodded her head, having likely heard this
before, and kept staring forward. After a moment, I realized what didn't sink
in and continued, "That includes you. No matter your past. No matter what
you said or didn't say. No matter the moment before or the years before. You
don't deserve this." The tears started. It isn't always easy to "just
know" what someone needs to hear, what may never have clicked before for
them. We will have to rely on our relationships with are children to pick on up
the signals, to know what they need to hear in all sorts of situations. You
will all be able to do this.
The biggest lessons I learned were this: Teach yourself and
your daughter to trust her instincts. To spend time experiencing her intuition.
To trust herself more than anyone else. There were often ignored signs in many
cases, women and men who were smarter than they even realized and overlooked
their own inner red flags. Yes, things happen, bad things happen to good
people, you can be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But sometimes, you
know more than you think.
Secondly, I learned that pain is pain. I hope to never
minimize my daughters pain. The last thing anyone hurting wants to hear is,
"It could have been worse." That does.not.make.it.hurt.less. Their
pain is valid. A paper cut to someone who has never experienced it still
stings. It also does not help to provide experiences that were
"worse" as examples. Rationally, we all get that being alive is
better than being dead. It will never help. I also believe, there is no need to
always "be strong." There is a time and a place for strong. Feel your
pain, it is OK to be sad or hurting. I want her to share it with me so I can be
a shoulder, and hopefully just listen. She may even already know her own best
advice. If not, I'll be the first to tell her what she's worth, why I am proud
of her, and that she will be OK.
All of you, too, Mothers of sons and daughters: Trust
yourselves. You are also stronger than you think. You'll know when to share
your stories. Live the example of a good relationship with your partners or
your ability to get through life without a partner, whatever it is. You also
have something to teach them by just being the best version of yourself.
Vulnerability is also extremely attractive to show your child. My Mother was
not strong in every moment, but I learned how she coped. If I had never seen
her at her most vulnerable, how would I realize just how strong she is to have
overcome it?
You got this. (sorry this is so long. I’m a little too
passionate about it.)
Re: Pensive thoughts on your kid
I cannot give her any safety or preventative advice because there is none.
Of course you want to bestow all possible information that might in some slight way ensure an inch of safety, but any advice to my daughter about rape would imply that rape is the fault of the victim. What could I possibly say? There are no clothing choices that prevent or cause rape. There are no rape-specific locations. There’s no way to screen a person for rapist tendencies. An overwhelming number of rapes occur in the the home of the victim or the home of a friend or family member, and their rapists are more often than not someone they know and trust. In short, rape is the fault of rapists. There aren’t preventative measures that can be taken, and I don’t want to set my daughter up to blame herself if something horrible happens to her or a friend.
Do I tell her how to handle rape, as if it’s normal? Do I normalize rape to my daughter? My second thought, then, is that I can teach her what to do if she or someone she knows is sexually assaulted. But then I think, “So is that what we’re doing? Preparing our daughters for potential rape?” I don’t want to normalize rape, and I don’t want that burden on her. Further, I don’t want to teach her early on that this is a thing that should occupy space in her mind and heart, or inhibit her, or worse – make her fearful of men. But I also don’t want to let her go through adolescence and early adulthood without knowing the truths about sexual assault, knowing that she can come to me and her father and the police if she witnesses something, and knowing that rape is not something to be ashamed of. Those are lessons I never heard but needed to know on more than one occasion.
Do I tell her about my own history with sexual assault, and, if so, when? With what goal? When I envision this conversation playing out in the distant future, she is a jaunty adolescent shirking off my advice by default. And wanting to add meaning and value to the importance of the topic, it feels important to be honest. I was sexually assaulted twice between the ages of seventeen and eighteen. Both times, I told no one. (I pause at this moment to know that some readers will ask why I said “sexually assaulted” and if I mean “raped.” There is a desire to sterilize the experience, to disconnect it from an emotionally loaded term. But there is also a weird ranking of assaults that I’d like to avoid. To explain, the first incident was an assault, or specifically, an attempted rape. I managed to escape the situation by the sheer luck of being about two seconds faster in answering a ringing phone. At that point, I had already been bruised and hurt and was utterly terrified. The second situation didn’t work the same. We were in my room, so there was nowhere really to escape to. There was no phone call to answer. It ended with a struggle. But I wouldn’t say either was more wounding than the other; they were both violations, acts of violence, and traumas that I buried deep and carried quietly for a decade before I told my husband.) A part of me feels that my trust and honesty with my daughter requires my openness about these things, but to what effect? Again, I don’t want to teach her fear. I do want to show her reality, but not a scary one. What is she is a very sensitive, empathetic person? I don’t want her to feel pain for my past. And if at some point I can frame all of this appropriately, making it informative and real but not scary, showing her the strength of surviving and assault but reiterating the likelihood that she won’t experience it, at what point do I have that conversation? Many women experience sexual assault at a young age, before driver’s licenses enter the picture. Do I talk to her about this in middle school, when she is only first beginning to enter the dating scene? Do I connect this with other topics, like sexual orientation and healthy relationships?
What do I say to my daughter about rape as a concept, a possibility for people she knows, and a part of my own experiences?
FWIW, my mother was raped twice in her teens (she was a runaway hippie living on her own as a teenager in NYC at 16 in the '60s, so she experienced a lot of pain and danger, actually), and she was very open about that with my sisters and me. I don't think you will do harm to share your experiences with your daughter; she will come to empathize with you and see those scenarios through your eyes in a way that may help to shape her worldview--not in a negative way, but perhaps in a more cautious (and certainly more feminist) way.
There's a poem that I love by a poet that I love that gets to the heart of this, I think. You may have heard it already--
"And all the house elves came to help, and THAT was the day Voldemort was defeated!"
Zoe Johannah, born 6/3/2014
@deepoceanmama, when did your mom have those conversations with you?
My mother started talking to me about sex when I was 4 and about rape when I was about 10. I was very, very young, and it was really uncomfortable for me, but I think it kind of built the way I viewed the world and how I approached my relationships in high school. I was a pretty sexual teenager (lost my virginity at 15, but to a boy I was in a committed relationship with), but it was never what some people talk about when they talk about their teenage sex experiences. My mom and dad knew from the beginning, my boyfriend was open with them...it was OK. Not traumatic. They let him spend the night at the house so that sex would never be something we snuck off to do in the back of a pickup truck. It was controversial and lots of parents were just waiting for me to get pregnant but, you know what? Everyone was having sex, but I was having sex safely and in my own bed. I knew about consent; I wasn't afraid to tell my boyfriend I wanted to wait to have sex (which I did), and I wasn't afraid to tell him or my mother that I was ready. I wasn't afraid to tell him that I didn't feel like it on any given night, or that something he was doing didn't feel good or hurt.
Anyway, I think about this a lot too. Will I let my daughter's boyfriend spend the night at the house? Yikes. That's a terrifying thought. I just don't know. I just really don't know what I will teach my daughter about sex and her body. I'm with you...there's no right answer here, I don't think.
"And all the house elves came to help, and THAT was the day Voldemort was defeated!"
Zoe Johannah, born 6/3/2014
Thank you for this thread, @wtfisup . I worked as a volunteer Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Crisis counselor in hospital Emergency Rooms for a little over 5 years in my 20's. Becoming a state certified Rape Crisis Counselor was an experience in itself, but the actual work, I can say without any dramatics, was life changing. We worked with women, men and children and it was through a non-denominational program. Basically, in the ER a nurse would ask if the patient wanted to speak with someone, and if it was my shift, I'd be called in (in the middle of the night) to work with the survivor until they were released or checked-in to the hospital. Long hours, lot's of police, doctors, sometimes child protective services. Sometimes I worked through an interpreter. These were the most important moments of my life to date.
I learned so very much about societal views, family views, insecurities, the often helpless push and pull of returning to a home - by choice - where you are not safe, as well of the lack of resources for survivors of attacks. I sat with one patient as she waited for xrays, and reminded her that no one deserves to be hurt. She nodded her head, having likely heard this before, and kept staring forward. After a moment, I realized what didn't sink in and continued, "That includes you. No matter your past. No matter what you said or didn't say. No matter the moment before or the years before. You don't deserve this." The tears started. It isn't always easy to "just know" what someone needs to hear, what may never have clicked before for them. We will have to rely on our relationships with are children to pick on up the signals, to know what they need to hear in all sorts of situations. You will all be able to do this.
The biggest lessons I learned were this: Teach yourself and your daughter to trust her instincts. To spend time experiencing her intuition. To trust herself more than anyone else. There were often ignored signs in many cases, women and men who were smarter than they even realized and overlooked their own inner red flags. Yes, things happen, bad things happen to good people, you can be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But sometimes, you know more than you think.
Secondly, I learned that pain is pain. I hope to never minimize my daughters pain. The last thing anyone hurting wants to hear is, "It could have been worse." That does.not.make.it.hurt.less. Their pain is valid. A paper cut to someone who has never experienced it still stings. It also does not help to provide experiences that were "worse" as examples. Rationally, we all get that being alive is better than being dead. It will never help. I also believe, there is no need to always "be strong." There is a time and a place for strong. Feel your pain, it is OK to be sad or hurting. I want her to share it with me so I can be a shoulder, and hopefully just listen. She may even already know her own best advice. If not, I'll be the first to tell her what she's worth, why I am proud of her, and that she will be OK.
All of you, too, Mothers of sons and daughters: Trust yourselves. You are also stronger than you think. You'll know when to share your stories. Live the example of a good relationship with your partners or your ability to get through life without a partner, whatever it is. You also have something to teach them by just being the best version of yourself. Vulnerability is also extremely attractive to show your child. My Mother was not strong in every moment, but I learned how she coped. If I had never seen her at her most vulnerable, how would I realize just how strong she is to have overcome it?
You got this. (sorry this is so long. I’m a little too passionate about it.)