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Tag — tween coaching

Living by Your Own Rules: Sexual Integrity

From friends who have re-entered the dating pool at mid-life, to teenage mentorees, to children approaching puberty—sex and sexuality are a regular topic of conversations ’round these parts. One of my girlfriends once said to me that as a teenager she decided “I just wanted to have a sexual history I could look back on without regret.” But how do you defined what that is for yourself in complex and changing world?

beckyknightheadshotnewIt’s always a good idea to ask an expert. So let me introduce to you Becky Knight, Clinical Sexologist. Today Becky is helping us make the connection between our guiding values and our sexual choices. Making that connection will help us feel more confident about our sexual choices, calm the voices in our heads that lead to self doubt, and quite the old tapes we don’t need to listen to any longer. Becky, take it away…

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Rites of Passage for Back to School

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It’s back to school season with the last of the schools in the U.S. starting up after this Labor Day weekend comes to a close. Children are trying on outfits, putting their names on backpacks and picking out new lunchboxes. But beyond the ritual of buying schools supplies, what can you do to create a sacred space around going back to school?

Starting a new grade is a big rite of passage for children — one that more often than not goes by unnoticed. In the flutter, hurry and relief(!) of finally getting those kids back in school, busy parents don’t have a lot of time to mark the moment. So here are 3 easy ways to honor the back to school process.

1. Special Breakfast. For ma [Read more →]

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Jamie Ridler: On Creativity, Feedback and Our Tender Hearts

 jamie-profile-sizeMeet Jamie Ridler, life coach to creative souls and friend to this tender, crazy heart. There are dozens of life coaches in my internet world, and many of them are very, very good. But Jamie is among the cream of the crop. Her generosity and playful wisdom has helped me immensely over the past year. I feel deeply grateful to be included in her virtual circle.

Today at Magpie Girl, Jamie speaks with us about the way creative souls recieve feedback, and how to honor our emotions while learning from the curve ball that criticism and critque can sometimes throw at us.  Do you have a teen or tween? Pass this on to them as well. It’s a life skill I wish I had acquired at 13 instead of 30! Jamie, take it away….

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Recently I asked people why it’s so important to us that people like our artwork. In my own life, I’m noticing how that’s also true for me about anything that I’ve really put my heart into. When I offer a workshop, I’m hoping with all my heart that people are going to love it, that they’ll feel inspired and hopeful and glad they took part.

There’s something wonderful about this. It inspires me to offer my best work and to learn and grow all the time. It comes from a place of deep commitment to the participants and a sincere desire to make a difference in their lives. It reminds me that creating a workshop or a newsletter or a meal or an event is a creative act, one that you pour your soul into.

And what happens if despite all of that, people don’t like it?

Here’s how I’ve learned to handle negative feedback. I hope it bolsters your tender heart the way it has bolstered mine:

1. Let yourself feel what you feel. If I’m hurt, disappointed, angry, defiant or whatever else, I get to experience that like a storm until it settles. I don’t have to pretend it’s not there, judge it, rise above it. I just get to feel what I feel.

2. Look for learning. Once the storm starts to quiet, I see if there’s anything I’d like to respond to. I’m not adjusting the work for one particular person. If I move away from the core of my vision to accommodate someone else, it starts to feel wobbly and I start to feel insecure. That lets me know that I’m moving in the wrong direction. But if I use the information to see if I can bring my creation closer to what I dream of for it, then I can use it to improve the work. There’s joy and confidence in there. The difference is palpable.

3. Let go of what’s not useful. If someone just didn’t like what I’ve created or offered or shared, but it’s something that I believe in or love or is true to me, I remind myself that not everyone is going to love what I do, and that’s fine. What I’ve learned from the information is that my gift is not for this person. I can let the rest go. 

4. Trust. I remind myself that my people are out there, people who will appreciate my unique gifts and offerings. One of the truly important things about blogging is it allows us to extend our reach in finding our people, so that when we share what is uniquely and authentically our gift, we have more of an around-the-world opportunity for someone to read it and get it.

Molly Gordon talks about how in business we have a niche and we have an offer. I think this is true in life generally. Our offer is what we sincerely, authentically bring to this world. It’s who we are and what we share. And our niche is that place, that ecosystem according to Molly, in which that offer is easily and recognizably of value. There’s nothing to be taken personally about being a rainforest plant who doesn’t fit into the desert. Just keep looking for home and reaching out to your people.

jamie-ridler-studios-badge-2Jamie Ridler MA CPCC is a creative self-development coach and director of Jamie Ridler Studios. She helps creative, independent spirits align their lives with their hearts and pursue their dreams with joy, courage and authenticity. She leads Circe’s Circle, a coaching telecircle for Creative Bloggers designed to help you start building your creative dreams. A new session stars September 15th. For updates and inspiration, you’ll find her on Twitter.

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*8 Things: Good Things My Parents Taught Me

8things from Magpie Girl It’s nearly Mother’s Day and my mind has been wandering over to my dear, sweet parents halfway around the world. My Mom and Dad are just a joy. Their special talents are macadamia-encrusted grilled salmon and mojitos on the back deck, or micro brews and antipasti on the sailboat. Obviously, everybody loves them. So here as a ‘thank you’ to my folks, are *8 Good Things my Parents Taught Me:

 1. Practice Hospitality. When I was a teenager my Mom used to stand the kitchen, shake her head and laugh while she said, “I should just install a revolving door!” Our tiny track house in California was home-base to all the teenagers in our circle. My siblings and I knew our friends were always welcome, and pals who were going through a rough time at home had a safe place to land. Now that my kids are school-aged, ours is the house everyone comes home to. In addition we take in stray teenagers, dogs, and wandering souls. That hospitality impulse goes on…

2. Tithe.  My folks became Christians in their mid-20′s and from then on at least 10% of their income went to charity. I can remember lean times in the house, but a little money always went into the offering plate, and a child was always supported through World Vision. Sometimes my Dad would feel suddenly compelled to give someone a $20 and he’d be walking across the parking lot towards their car with cash in hand. This taught me to prioritize giving in my budget – -something Paul and I have continued, and which we are passing on to the girls.

3. Communal Responsibility. One of the things I remember about growing up is that chores were treated as a contribution to the family community. It was clear from an early age that you did a chore to help meet the needs of the family and the house, and in return your needs in the family and in the house were also supported. We’re trying to pass this on to our kids by talking about our family as a community, and by not linking allowance to chores. (Everyone contributes, everyone receives. It’s not a reward for behavior, but a way of cooperative living.)

4. You Can ‘Make Do.’ I grew up in 70′s when the drought tortured California and the recession plagued the nation. Those were the times of day-old bread, peanut butter sandwiches, and grocery co-ops run out of neighbor’s garages. Times were tight, but we made it through. Somehow our parents managed to communicate to us that we had to pinch pennies, but we weren’t left feeling insecure. Those memories are a great comfort to me as our nation weathers the latest economic storm. I know that even on a shoestring, our family can thrive.

5. Do it Yourself. Things I can remember my folks doing over the years: building a solar dehydrator make our own banana chips; digging out a fish pond; pouring concrete sidewalks; restoring a ’57 Ford Fairlaine; picking and canning fruit; bottling root beer; sewing our own clothes; building a puppet show, play house, and seesaw from scrap lumber; making and installing stained glass windows; and more cooking and remodeling projects than I could shake a hammer at. Paul and I are nearly all-thumbs, and despite his handy tool belt, we do hire big things out. But the idea of making what you need has stuck with us. And our kids? They make birthday presents, sew and knit, and last month Eden learned to use a jig saw!

6. Rest. My Dad is a bit of a workhorse. He can get up go and go without breakfast or break. But he also knows how to rest. I have many fond memories of him baking in the sun on a chaise lounge, or curled up with me on the sofa watching monster movies on a Sunday afternoon. Family Sabbaths were frequently imposed, and a quiet afternoon was always valued. In our hurry-up, consumer culture, having a work/rest rhythm is tantamount to good spiritual, emotional, and physical health. In various periods of our life Paul and I have been known to practice Sabbath, yank the kids from school for a ‘personal day,’ or just spend the weekend reading in the breeze. Rest is a nearly a lost art that must be passed down through the generations.

7. “Traaaadition! Tradition!” You’d hear my folks sing this song from the Fiddler on the Roof every once in awhile-especially in our teens when one of us would whine to get out of some sort of family event. Traditions were bedrock in our family, and were largely in my Mother’s special purview. From holiday decorations to special foods to little rites like ice-cream-after-choir-performances, Mom made sure there were rhythms to our living. These traditions reinforced our family’s values and beliefs, and provided us with colorful family memories. Anyone who’s read my blog for more than five seconds knows that rites, rituals, rhythms and traditions are core to what I am about. That comes from Mom!

8. Camp. Even in the tightest of times my parents managed to get us out in the great outdoors. First with an army surplus tent, then Grandpa’s trailer, and finally with a small camper my folks took us all up and down the West Coast, up into Canada and down Mexico way. Once we even went camping and stewed up a squirrel for supper- booty my grandfather had shot and the only food we had left in the freezer when the grocery budget ran low! Most of my childhood memories center around things like overnights at Big Sur; snow New Years eve in a nearly deserted Yosemite; and 4th of Julys in Malakoff Diggins -our favorite little gold town. Nowadays we don’t camp as often as I’d like. But we do get out a couple of times a year, building memories of marshmallows and mosquito bites with our own ‘happy campers.’

 What goodies have your parents passed down to you? Are they things you can hold in your hands or memories you hold in your heart? If you have kids, how are you passing them down to the next generation? Drop some in the comments below or grab a *8 Things badge and play along. Cheers!

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God Sticks and Shame Caves

God Sticks and Shame Caves
More thoughts on what we teach our kids about sexuality.

As I wrote in my previous post, I’m not teaching my kids that abstinence until marriage is the best, only, or even necessarily the most preferable sexual option in the universe. Abstinence Only was taught to me as a child, and while it did keep me from joining the statistics on teenage pregnancy, the side effects of this puberty-long fast were pretty damaging.

Since beginning this conversation, I’ve experienced a virtual mind-flood of memories and ideas which have been floating around trying to organize themselves into a cohesive whole. Slowly they are settling into a couple of themed collections. Today’s Memory Collection: Messages of Shame.

Liz Hurly and the Ta-Ta’s of Death
In the first memory that’s been nagging at me to be told, I’m sitting around a conference table at a region-wide gathering of pastors for the denomination in which I am a minister. It’s a moderately conservative denomination and the particular congregation I have been hired to work at is urban, hip, and more willing to flex than most of the others in the area. I am the only woman in the room and several of my colleagues, most of whom are middle aged white men, are uncertain-to-down-right-sure as to whether or not I should be there. The leader of the meeting is on the fence at best, but to be fair, he is making tentative attempts at including the new girl in this fraternity of long-time buddies.

We have come to the portion of the meeting where the pastors share any new resources they’ve discovered. One man in particular is highly energized by a new sex-ed video he has been showing to his Jr. High youth group. He is relaying his favorite part of the video, in which the young, male, youth leader holds up a poster of Elizabeth Hurley and says something like this:

“Do you see this woman? This is a sexy, smokin’ hot woman. She has great legs. She shows a lot of cleavage. Her clothes are skin tight. Do you know who she was dating? Hugh Grant. And do you know what Hugh Grant did while he was dating her? He had sex with a prostitute. What does that tell you? I know what it tells me. It tells me that being with a woman who is smokin’ hot in the eyes of our fallen society only drives us to want more. Being with someone provocative like Elizabeth Hurly, just drives us deeper into sexual sin.”

Yes ladies and gentlemen—Hugh Grant engaged in prostitution not because he has issues; not because he was sexually addicted; not because he failed to respect his girlfriend or the woman he paid to have sex with, but because Elizabeth Hurly’s cleavage is dangerous.

I was having a hard time believing my ears. Here was a couple whose common law relationship had lasted longer than most of my college friend’s post-graduation “Christian” marriages. In spite of Grant’s truly bad betrayal, he and Hurly repaired their relationship and later their friendship to such an extent that even after their break up Hurly asked Grant to be the godfather of her child. Their relationship—at least the portion of it related to us in popular magazines—turned out to be a pretty stunning example of forgiveness, reconciliation, and compassion. But forget all of that, the real thing to remember here is that this woman’s ta-ta’s drove a man so wild with desire he had to pick up a prostitute.

If only she had worn more turtlenecks.

I held my tongue as the meeting went on, trying to formulate my thoughts in a way that would let me express them without being tagged as an “angry feminist” (a neat semantic trick which effectively prevents a woman’s story from being heard.) I waited to see if an appropriate opportunity would come up to shed some light on the topic.

Eventually the meeting moved into a discussion period where the staff could advise each other on things that were providing sticky in their individual congregations. One of the men raised a problem he was having at his church – the women wanted to introduce liturgical dance into the morning service. He wasn’t sure about this. Liturgical dance certainly didn’t speak to him, and he wasn’t sure there was a point to it. In an attempt to engage me in the conversation, this man turned to me and said, “As a woman, what do you think Rachelle?” My reply was something like this:

I understand that you don’t connect with liturgical dance. It’s not something that speaks to everyone. It’s not something that particularly speaks to me. But I think you should invite the women to introduce it to your congregation and I’ll tell you why. It will allow women to use their bodies as an expressive instrument in the midst of their community, and it will indirectly convey a message that women’s bodies are not inherently sinful. Women get the message in church quite a bit—that there is something wrong with their physical selves, that their bodies are dangerous and sinful. Can I give you and example?

I went on to explain how sex-ed video that had been mentioned might be consumed by the teenage girls. I pointed out how it took the burden of error off the shoulders of Hugh Grant, and planted it firmly on the um…shoulders…of Liz Hurley. I mentioned how this message – that women’s bodies were a temptation to men and should therefore be restrained, covered up, and hidden from view as much as possible, was a common message in the church. I explained that the only time women were mentioned as physical beings was in some story about how tempting they were, or perhaps to instruct them on a less revealing dress code while singing in the worship band. I explained how healing it is for some women to engage their bodies in dance, and how holistic it would be to introduce that option into their worship services. I tried to help them capture the idea that the dance of a few women might bring healing to many in their community.

The room was silent. Not the kind of silence that accompanies disagreement, but the kind that happens when a group of like-thinkers is introduced to a totally new concept. I think the word I’m looking for here is:stunned.

God Sticks and Shame Caves
This story about Liz Hurly came back to me of late while watching this Jon Stewart clip about the success (or lack thereof) of government funded Abstinence Only programs in schools. (Warning: this clip is NSFW and in the words of Ira Glass “does mention the existence of sex.”) In this footage, a female sexual health educator who had traveled with one of the abstinence educators testified that reluctant girls were repeatedly pulled to the front of the class and shown a dirty toothbrush that “looked like it had been used to clean a toilet.” The instructor then continued to say, “If you have sex before marriage, you are like a dirty toothbrush.”

So glad to see my tax dollars at work. (1.3 billion dollars over the past 11 years)

Jon Stewart’s response to this and other parts of the abstinence only assessment reports was to say: “Of course, we all know that! Boys have a God Stick and girls have a shame cave.” Now obviously, this was a joke and Jon was employing exaggeration to make a comic point. But I’ve got to tell you, he’s not far off. This is the message many young women receive when they are taught that the only acceptable course of action is for them not to have sex until marriage. Even if they are in love. Even if they are mature. Even if their body is screaming otherwise. Even if they don’t marry until 25, or 35, or 45.

True, in these abstinence programs, boys are also taught to refrain from sex before marriage. But somehow they are not shamed the way girls are. For instance, it’s not that boys that are not hauled up front of the class and told they are a dirty toothbrush. The language is different for boys than for girls. Boys “sow their wild oats.” Girls are “fallen women.” Boy’s may “lose their virginity,” but the girls “lose” their virginity tothe guy, who then gets to claim that he’s “popped her cherry.” It’s all just so discouraging. And speaking of how we use language, here’s one more story…

Bye Bye Miss American Pie
In college I read a piece about premarital sex in a religious magazine. The article began by telling a story. A group of girls were meeting in a dorm room. They were gathered around one girl’s bed, pouring champagne and toasting her success at having ‘lost’ her virginity the night before. In the article, this story was meant to be disturbing – it was pitched as being a sad way for these young women to behave, another example of “the world” celebrating sin rather than living a life of piety.

At the time I was well entrenched into my conservative religious world. Still, I can remember thinking, “That doesn’t seem so bad. In fact, that seems like a pretty good rite of passage to me.” Twenty years later I still think it’s not a bad idea. But I’d change the language. What is this crap about “losing” one’s virginity? Did it fall out of your purse when you went to pay the check? Did you forget it with your umbrella on the bus?

In the case of consensual sex one doesn’t ‘lose’ one’s virginity. One moves from being a virgin to being someone who has had sex. “Loss” connotes something regretful. It doesn’t have to be that way. We don’t have to lay that guilt trip on our girls—or on our boys for that matter. We don’t have to start our young people off on their sexual history with a tick in the losses column. We could, perhaps, celebrate his or her budding maturity. We could, perhaps, use language which honors moving into a new stage of sexual, emotional, and relational development. We could, perhaps, create a reality in which it is possible to have sex for the first time (married or otherwise) without a sense of loss, but rather with a sense of pride.

It’s just and idea. I’m just saying.

There’s a scene in the film Real Women Have Curves where the teenage heroine Ana, played by America Ferrara, decides to have sex for the first time with a boy she cares for and admires. They are graduating from high school and will not see each other anymore. She’s not fooling herself about that. She’s looking at the situation very clear-eyed, realizing that there will be no romantic movie ending. They will drift apart. They will find other people. But in the now, in the well considered now, Ana wants to be with him. While they are together in the bedroom, Ana gets up and walks to the mirror. She says something like “This is me. This is what I look like.” The moment is so real, so honest and confident. I remember being quite struck by it.

Since seeing that movie, I have logged more than a decade raising children—raising girl children, as a matter of fact. Now, years later, that scene floats up through my memory. I consider it and I decide, if my children have that kind of confidence, that kind of assuredness, that kind of certainty the first time they have sex, I’ll be a happy mom.

What about you? What kind of stories have shaped your sexual identity?….What have those stories given you to carry—a shame cave? A glass of champagne? Something in between? ….What kind of stories do you want to give your children about themselves as sexual beings?….What language will you use to talk about their bodies and their virginity (or the lack thereof?) The comments are open!

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Reposting: Why I’m Not Teaching My Kids Abstinence

This is a repost from a series I began back in April about what we communicate to our children about their sexuality. I’m putting it up again now because I’d like to return to the topic and I thought it might help to bring new readers up to speed. At the bottom of this post are links to the follow-up posts that I’ve already written–which rely heavily upon the great input received in the comments. I’ll be posting the next installation sometime in the next 24 hrs. If this is a topic that rings with you, I hope you’ll jump into the discussion. Thanks for reading. – Rachelle

What I Think About Kids & Abstinence

“Don’t you remember at church, when they told us it was better for us to come home in a pine box than to lose our chastity?”

-Sarah Henrickson (18) to her brother Ben (16)
Big Love

I grew up in the church. The conservative evangelical church to be exact. Sundays and Wednesdays were spent at the Lutheran Church, and Monday-Friday at the Assemblies of God private school (chapel three times a week, Bible class every day, choir, and optional 7am prayer meetings.) If you’ve ever seen the fantastic dark-comedy Saved, then you have seen my life. It’s like a hidden camera reality show based on my high school, only with better hair.

Growing up, the message I received was that the absolute worst thing you could do was to have sex outside of marriage. It was worse than getting drunk. Hell, it was worse than DRIVING drunk. Sex, actual intercourse, was totally forbidden. All the other bases were either totally verbotten or pretty damn bad. Oral sex. Very Very Bad. Groping of all kinds. Bad. Making out in your boyfriend’s car. Not great. Kissing. Tolerated –but not on school grounds, of course, or you would be given a two day suspension. Holding hands? Well, okay, but only holding hands; certainly not putting your arms around someone’s shoulder. Anything and everything you might do with someone of the opposite sex was cloaked in shame. Tickling? Shoulder rubs? Boy-girl stunts in cheerleading? It was all highly suspicious. (Do I even have to mention that doing anything with someone of the same sex was completely off the charts? You might as well pick up a ‘go directly to hell’ card.)

We had sex education, once, in fifth grade. It was mostly to make sure everyone was in the know about getting your period. I suppose the boys had a similar filmstrip about unwelcomed erections, but I’m not sure. It was the 80’s and AIDS education was huge, so even in Christian school you got a little mention of condoms. You never actually saw one, no one ever demonstrated how to use one on a banana for instance, and they were definitely NOT distributed in health class. The main idea was, “Abstinence is the Answer”, and everyone from teachers to pastors to parents was 100% on-message. And the teens, well, everyone had to sign on. (Or at least pretend to.)

Over and over again the messages we received were distilled in our hormone-soaked brains down to this one echoing refrain:

“Sex is a terrible, awful, shameful thing you save for the one you love.”

I recall one youth group session in which a cartoon was placed on the overhead projector. It showed a pit dug into the ground with a ladder in it. Each rung of the ladder had a physical act on it. The top rung was holding hands, the next one down was kissing, then making out, petting…you get the idea. The last rung, in the bottom of the pit? Yep. Sex. This kind of illustration was pretty common, and usually came along with a sermon about how “your body is a temple” – followed by a round of fast food and artificially sweetened cola. One of my favorite variations of this youth-group sex scenario was told to me a few years ago by a fellow seminarian. He told me, in all seriousness, that he was teaching his youth group that “Sex is like a wild, vicious, hungry lion, and you DO NOT want to go putting your head anywhere near that lion’s mouth.” (How he got away with using “sex” and “head” in the same sentence in a room full of teenage boys without the place exploding into laughter is beyond me.)

I know that the intentions of my teachers, youth group leaders, pastors and parents were good. I know they were trying to protect us from getting in too deep, too fast. I know they wanted to save us from harm, hurt, and, I suppose, hell. But the reality is, all they did for me was create a space in which to grow shame, guilt and dysfunction. And oh, how it grew! Here’s a short list of the messages I carried away from my abstinence experience:

-Every physical impulse you have towards a boy is wrong–probably even sinful.

-All the natural, normal parts of growing up and falling in love –physicality of any kind—are wrong and unnatural.

-If my body want this, then my body is bad. (This combined with the typical magazine spreads with size 0 models and pimple-free skin, and you can see what that did for a teenage girl’s body image.)

-If you don’t plan for sex, it’s not as bad of a sin. (Therefore, don’t own birth control or condoms.)

In spite of this, there were boys who got lucky and girls who went all the way. There were girls swept off to the Crisis Pregnancy Centers and expelled from school—or worse yet, allowed to stay but banned from all extracurricular activities–like going to the basketball games or walking down the aisle at graduation. (The boys on the other hand, never seemed to get into much trouble. I don’t recall any of them getting kicked out or shamed out of leaving.) And if anyone ever had an abortion, well, they kept it as a dark secret, and went through the experience without any help or counseling.

Because of my experience in abstinence programs– and because of the way my experience was echoed again and again in the shameful tears full-grown women brought to me during my tenure as a pastor –I am not raising my children under the banner of abstinence. Being physical and having sex are natural normal parts of growing up. We are physically and chemically programmed for it. We are culturally conditioned for it. It is a part of our healthy emotional development. I want my children to grow up in an atmosphere that acknowledges this reality—one that is shame free, where their bodies are seen as being ‘fearfully and wonderfully made,” and where their hearts can be trusted to lead them in the right direction. My intention, my deep hope, is to raise them in such a way that they will carry with them these messages:

-Your body is amazing. You can trust it to tell you what you are physically ready to do.

-Your heart is your guide –you can trust the wisdom of your own intuition in making choices.

-Sex is something you move into one step at a time. Each step is good. Each step is appropriate. You– and only you–get to choose when you are ready for that step.

-As a romantic relationship grows deeper emotionally, it’s natural for it to grow deeper physically.

-Planning for sex and being prepared to protect yourself and your partner is smart, responsible, and essential.

-You have the right to say NO. And conversely, you have the right to say YES.

Rather than telling my kids “Sex is a terrible, awful, shameful thing you save for the one you love.” I want the messages I give them to be able to be boiled down to this:

“You are capable of building a relational history you can look back on without regret.”

A friend of mine bequeathed that turn of phrase to me. We were drinking margaritas and talking about sex. (What else do you talk about after you’ve had a couple of margaritas?) She was telling me about her major high school boyfriend, and being in love, and what her parents and his parents thought about them having sex (or not). She said, “I never wanted to have sex in the car. I always wanted to build a sexual history I could look back on without regret, and I didn’t think I could do that if I had sex in the back of his Camero.” That’s pretty self aware, don’t you think? Pretty well-reasoned for a seventeen year old. Build a history you can look back on without regret – or at least, with as little regret as possible. I think, all told, that’s the best we can do. That’s what we humans can hope for: safety, respect, and a collection of memories held without shame.

So when it comes to sex and all its accoutrements here’s my parenting pledge:

-I promise to make talking about sex as natural and open as possible. (We’ve already got quite a track record.)

-I promise to help you access birth control and protection. (Yes, even for the masculine kids in the family.)

-I promise to help you assess what your heart and body is ready for, if you want to talk to me about it.

-I promise to give you accurate information about your body and its needs, to the best of my ability.

-I promise not to shame you for wanting physical contact with someone you care about.

-I promise to do whatever I can to make sex a wonderful, beautiful, joyful thing you give to the one(s) you love.

What will you teach your kids about sex? Any conversational tricks to share? Stories that worked out well? Do tell…

Further posts on this topic:
Follow the Discussion here.
Thoughts from the comment gallery.

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Abstinence, Kids, and Faith: Thoughts from the Comment Gallery

We in post-modern America live in a challenging moment in many regards, but especially when it comes to sex and kids. A sexually charged entertainment industry makes sure our children are exposed to body baring clothes and surgically enhanced bust lines as soon as they are old enough to watch cartoons. The infamous marketing machine sells dolls with cleavage, and journals about boyfriends to girls in their tweens; while teenagers watch television programs where actors in their twenties portray high school students ‘hooking up’ for the weekend. Pharmaceutical companies encourage inoculating girls as early as age 9 with the anti-HPV drug to stop the spread of a cancer-producing virus which can only be passed through intercourse. Women who overtly express their sexuality are lauded one news cycle and condemned the next. Porn is available at the click of a button; revealing sex scenes are no longer confined to Rated R movies; and virtual reality chat rooms allow users to do what they will in complete anonymity.

It is in this milieu that we are raising our children.

In the face of so much overt sexuality, it is easy to default to a defense position wherein the most radical steps are taken to keep our children ‘safe.’ Ironically, our very attempts at defense and protection can also create much dysfunction.

There may be no definitive answer to the question, “What should I convey to my children about sex.” And there is certainly no quick chapter and verse that will give us an easy answer. In an issue this nuanced and complicated no parent or mentor will have a perfect track record. Each approach will have its pros and cons, its detractors and its supporters. Because of the complexity of our situation, and the centrality of our sexual identity in defining ourselves as humans, we must find a way to enter into an honest dialogue with one another. The language of debate will only dissolve our opportunity to create new and re-newed approaches to sexual education and sexual identity for the upcoming generations.

That is why I am so pleased by the tone of the conversation going on in the comments around this topic. Chris Brogan, a guest writer at Problogger has said that the best material on his website can be found in the comments. This is a sentiment with which I whole heartedly agree. I want to say ‘Thank You’ to everyone who is participating in this intriguing conversation. Furthermore, I’d like to invite you all to continue on with this important discussion.

There were a couple of themes that emerged out of the comments that I want to think through together a little bit more.

Physical. Relational. Emotional. Phsyical.
Bob and Beth both brought up the idea that perhaps sex is not only physical and relational, but also spiritual in nature. This is something that has intrigued me recently. In the past few years I’ve expanded my friendship circle beyond the walls of the evangelical church. Now, many of my atheistic and/or scientific friends insist that sex is all about brain chemistry and physical relief. (This is the initial argument of the intriguing film, Dopamine.) Meanwhile my artistic and/or spiritual director friends insist that there is a scared component of sexual union that cannot be ignored—especially for women, who hold within their own bodies the power to bring into existence new people! (Ten years after first bearing children this creative reality still blows my mind.)

Which is it? Brain chemistry or emotional and spiritual union? I think the answer is both/and. As the women on Sex and the City are sure to attest, sometimes sex is just a physical release–a hedonistic pleasure that lasts for a moment, and then passes by. Other times, as is captured halfway through the movie Fever Pitch, sex does connect people on an emotional level, and sometimes in a sacramental dynamic. (No good example there…anyone else got one?) If sex is–at least sometimes and perhaps at all times—more than a physical act, then the question becomes: How do I communicate to my children that sex and physical intimacy can contain some, all, or none of these aspects; and that an awareness of this is necessary in order to make good sexual decisions?

When Do I Have to Decide?
Monica brings up the concern that as her children age, her time is running out to log an opinion on abstinence vs. responsible sexual activity. Which raises still more questions such as: When do we start talking to our children about sex? Is there an age, a stage of development, or a certain number of candles on the birthday cake when the topic becomes daily news? Or, is everything we communicate to our children about their bodies bedrock for a growing collection of topics about physicality and sexuality? Is there a way for us to include our children in our own evolving understanding of sex and intimacy? Or must we have all of the answers prior to the time our kids hit their teens? What do you think?

The Message or the Method?
DD asks two good questions: Is it the message of abstinence that causes dysfunction, or the method? Is there a way to teach abstinence until marriage that would not carry with it a subtext of shame and guilt? Here I’d like to proffer a fairly clear opinion. No, there isn’t. Or perhaps a more gentle way of phrasing it might be, if there is, I haven’t seen it. Insisting on abstinence until marriage for every person on the globe does not take into account the human reality of personal individuation and cultural diversity. It treats people as objects which can be placed into the proper equation for optimal health and wellness, and not as humans with differing needs and with varying ways of interacting with the world. In a culture where people may marry at 18 or 45, procreate in their teens or in the 50’s, a one-reality-fits-all is simply inadequate.

Jesus, Sex, and Culture
Which leads to DD’s next question: is Christianity here to acquiesce to culture or to transform culture? Yes, Jesus spoke about transforming culture. But not in the way the Christianity has tried to transform culture. Christianity has spent it’s long years trying to transform the minor issues such as drinking, smoking, swearing, gambling, and sex; while systematically ignoring the major transformational needs Jesus focused on—providing for the poor and the widow; inviting the outsider to the table; spending time with the marginalized; releasing captives; and seeking justice in the face of religious legalism and political tyranny. Sure there were and are break-through moments where Wilberforce and his community used the convictions of their faith to end the British slave trade; or where Wallis and his community got modern America to think more widely about political and economic justice. But overall, we’ve just spent a lot of time preaching to the choir while the rest of our culture was left to its own accord. As my friend Mr. Jim says, sometimes the question we should ask is not only WWJD, but WDJD—What didn’t Jesus do? Either way, it’s pretty clear he didn’t worry too much about sex.

I have just typed 1,095 words –far too many for a blog post. And of course, being who I am, there are plenty more to come. But I am a firm believer that one voice from the pulpit is an imperfect model at best; and I wholeheartedly embrace the benefits of a teaching-learning community. So please, carry this conversation on. What thoughts come to mind for you on these ideas? What questions have they raised? Has this helped you reach any decisions about how you will present sex to your kids? Are you revisiting stories from your own coming-of-age years and seeing them in a new light? I’d love to hear what you have to say, here or on your own blogs. Drop your ideas in the comments below, or leave us a link to what you have to say about the topic over at your place.

There’s a lot more burning in my brain about sexuality and faith, and I’ll still be posting again on this topic in the days to come. I’ve got a story about Hugh Grant and another about America Fererra. There’s something in there about pouring champagne to celebrate the end of virginity, and thoughts about the language we use to describe that experience. The issue Susan raised about the difference between glossy sex and earthy sex seems pivotal; and Monica’s questions and Another Rachelle’s experience has inspired me to work up a post about the myths Christianity teaches about sexual ‘consequences.’ A thought or two about the current Miley Cyrus ruckus is also in the offing, along with whatever else comes up in the comments. So please, stick around. It seems like we have some work to do–and it’s work that can best be accomplished together.

Yours in the Journey,

Rachelle

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Wednesday Review: The Care and Keeping Of You- The Body Book for Girls

The Care & Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls (American Girl Library)
The Care & Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls
Valorie Lee Schaefer

When I bought the kids second-hand American Girl dolls, the Dad of the teen who sold me the dolls said, “I warn you, this doll is a gateway drug.” He couldn’t have been more right, and by Christmas I was drowning in a stack of AG catalogs.

While the girls haven’t become AG users, they are big fans of American Girl’s line of books. In addition to the decently written historical novels, AG also offers a line of great growing-up advice books. This week what with all the flap about Miley Cyrus’ portrait by Annie Lebowitz for Vanity Fair, combined with the great discussion going in the comments on my post Why I’m not teaching Abstinence to my Kids, I thought I’d review a book about growing-up bodies.

American Girl’s The Care & Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls is an excellent reference guide for a growing girl. Written in a simple, friendly style The Care & Keeping of You gives kids the details they long for in a way that communicates “it’s not gross, it’s your really cool body!” Author Valerie Scharfer covers the obvious concerns—zits, period, and bras (or the lack thereof)—as well as broader concepts about size, mind/body connection, and the way physical changes can effect emotions. Even things a grown up might think of as insignificant, like how to get gum out of your hair, get straight forward solutions,

The publisher says this book is for ages 9-12, and some of the information may be more than younger children want to know. For instance, there’s a pretty detailed cartoon/line-drawing illustration of a girl using a tampon, and girls in the drawings are pictured nude and anatomically correct. My oldest daughter needs a lot of reconnaissance before she moves into a new area, so we got her this book when she was 8 years old and started asking questions about ‘becoming a teenager.’ She had it for about an hour before she came bounding down the stair saying things like, “Mom, did you know you get you period about two years after your breast buds appear?” (No, actually, I did not. That would have been really helpful to know back in the day.) So far, she’s feeling really confident about the changes ahead, and proud of her growing body.

Other good books in this line include The Feelings Book: The Care & Keeping of Your Emotions, which pretty much saved our lives though the drama that was third grade; A Smart Girl’s Guide to Starting Middle School; and A Smart Girl’s Guide to Money. Today’s Flavor: Knowledge is Power.

All purchases made by clicking on a link or image above help support this website. Find more great reads at Magpie Reviews. Thanks you!

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Why I’m Not Teaching My Kids Abstinence-Only

“Don’t you remember at church, when they told us it was better for us to come home in a pine box than to lose our chastity?”

-Sarah Henrickson (18) to her brother Ben (16)
Big Love

I grew up in the church. The conservative evangelical church to be exact. Sundays and Wednesdays were spent at the Lutheran Church, and Monday-Friday at the Assemblies of God private school (chapel three times a week, Bible class every day, choir, and optional 7am prayer meetings.) If you’ve ever seen the fantastic dark-comedy Saved, then you have seen my life. It’s like a hidden camera reality show based on my high school, only with better hair.

Growing up, the message I received was that the absolute worst thing you could do was to have sex outside of marriage. It was worse than getting drunk. Hell, it was worse than DRIVING drunk. Sex, actual intercourse, was totally forbidden. All the other bases were either totally verbotten or pretty damn bad. Oral sex. Very Very Bad. Groping of all kinds. Bad. Making out in your boyfriend’s car. Not great. Kissing. Tolerated –but not on school grounds, of course, or you would be given a two day suspension. Holding hands? Well, okay, but only holding hands; certainly not putting your arms around someone’s shoulder. Anything and everything you might do with someone of the opposite sex was cloaked in shame. Tickling? Shoulder rubs? Boy-girl stunts in cheerleading? It was all highly suspicious. (Do I even have to mention that doing anything with someone of the same sex was completely off the charts? You might as well pick up a ‘go directly to hell’ card.)

We had sex education, once, in fifth grade. It was mostly to make sure everyone was in the know about getting your period. I suppose the boys had a similar filmstrip about unwelcomed erections, but I’m not sure. It was the 80’s and AIDS education was huge, so even in Christian school you got a little mention of condoms. You never actually saw one, no one ever demonstrated how to use one on a banana for instance, and they were definitely NOT distributed in health class. The main idea was, “Abstinence is the Answer”, and everyone from teachers to pastors to parents was 100% on-message. And the teens, well, everyone had to sign on. (Or at least pretend to.)

Over and over again the messages we received were distilled in our hormone-soaked brains down to this one echoing refrain:

“Sex is a terrible, awful, shameful thing you save for the one you love.”

I recall one youth group session in which a cartoon was placed on the overhead projector. It showed a pit dug into the ground with a ladder in it. Each rung of the ladder had a physical act on it. The top rung was holding hands, the next one down was kissing, then making out, petting…you get the idea. The last rung, in the bottom of the pit? Yep. Sex. This kind of illustration was pretty common, and usually came along with a sermon about how “your body is a temple” – followed by a round of fast food and artificially sweetened cola. One of my favorite variations of this youth-group sex scenario was told to me a few years ago by a fellow seminarian. He told me, in all seriousness, that he was teaching his youth group that “Sex is like a wild, vicious, hungry lion, and you DO NOT want to go putting your head anywhere near that lion’s mouth.” (How he got away with using “sex” and “head” in the same sentence in a room full of teenage boys without the place exploding into laughter is beyond me.)

I know that the intentions of my teachers, youth group leaders, pastors and parents were good. I know they were trying to protect us from getting in too deep, too fast. I know they wanted to save us from harm, hurt, and, I suppose, hell. But the reality is, all they did for me was create a space in which to grow shame, guilt and dysfunction. And oh, how it grew! Here’s a short list of the messages I carried away from my abstinence experience:

-Every physical impulse you have towards a boy is wrong–probably even sinful.

-All the natural, normal parts of growing up and falling in love –physicality of any kind—are wrong and unnatural.

-If my body want this, then my body is bad. (This combined with the typical magazine spreads with size 0 models and pimple-free skin, and you can see what that did for a teenage girl’s body image.)

-If you don’t plan for sex, it’s not as bad of a sin. (Therefore, don’t own birth control or condoms.)

In spite of this, there were boys who got lucky and girls who went all the way. There were girls swept off to the Crisis Pregnancy Centers and expelled from school—or worse yet, allowed to stay but banned from all extracurricular activities–like going to the basketball games or walking down the aisle at graduation. (The boys on the other hand, never seemed to get into much trouble. I don’t recall any of them getting kicked out or shamed out of leaving.) And if anyone ever had an abortion, well, they kept it as a dark secret, and went through the experience without any help or counseling.

Because of my experience in abstinence programs– and because of the way my experience was echoed again and again in the shameful tears full-grown women brought to me during my tenure as a pastor –I am not raising my children under the banner of abstinence. Being physical and having sex are natural normal parts of growing up. We are physically and chemically programmed for it. We are culturally conditioned for it. It is a part of our healthy emotional development. I want my children to grow up in an atmosphere that acknowledges this reality—one that is shame free, where their bodies are seen as being ‘fearfully and wonderfully made,” and where their hearts can be trusted to lead them in the right direction. My intention, my deep hope, is to raise them in such a way that they will carry with them these messages:

-Your body is amazing. You can trust it to tell you what you are physically ready to do.

-Your heart is your guide –you can trust the wisdom of your own intuition in making choices.

-Sex is something you move into one step at a time. Each step is good. Each step is appropriate. You– and only you–get to choose when you are ready for that step.

-As a romantic relationship grows deeper emotionally, it’s natural for it to grow deeper physically.

-Planning for sex and being prepared to protect yourself and your partner is smart, responsible, and essential.

-You have the right to say NO. And conversely, you have the right to say YES.

Rather than telling my kids “Sex is a terrible, awful, shameful thing you save for the one you love.” I want the messages I give them to be able to be boiled down to this:

“You are capable of building a relational history you can look back on without regret.”

A friend of mine bequeathed that turn of phrase to me. We were drinking margaritas and talking about sex. (What else do you talk about after you’ve had a couple of margaritas?) She was telling me about her major high school boyfriend, and being in love, and what her parents and his parents thought about them having sex (or not). She said, “I never wanted to have sex in the car. I always wanted to build a sexual history I could look back on without regret, and I didn’t think I could do that if I had sex in the back of his Camero.” That’s pretty self aware, don’t you think? Pretty well-reasoned for a seventeen year old. Build a history you can look back on without regret – or at least, with as little regret as possible. I think, all told, that’s the best we can do. That’s what we humans can hope for: safety, respect, and a collection of memories held without shame.

So when it comes to sex and all its accoutrements here’s my parenting pledge:

-I promise to make talking about sex as natural and open as possible. (We’ve already got quite a track record.)

-I promise to help you access birth control and protection. (Yes, even for the masculine kids in the family.)

-I promise to help you assess what your heart and body is ready for, if you want to talk to me about it.

-I promise to give you accurate information about your body and its needs, to the best of my ability.

-I promise not to shame you for wanting physical contact with someone you care about.

-I promise to do whatever I can to make sex a wonderful, beautiful, joyful thing you give to the one(s) you love.

What will you teach your kids about sex? Any conversational tricks to share? Stories that worked out well? Do tell…

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eighteen

“Here there be monsters.”

There is fierceness to your love as a parent, a primordial viciousness that cannot quite be captured by pen or by page. The heat of it feeds you, moves you to the force of living that must be done to rear a child, to create a life.

But it tears at you too, this animal of passion, and the thing that tears deepest is that the one you love so fiercely–this child of womb or of heart–cannot understand this beast, cannot capture it in their reality, or even in their imagination. And you know, in spite of this longing to make sure they know, that they aren’t meant to, aren’t intended to. This kind of knowing is not expected of them.

So this tears then too, this absolute inability to communicate the sheer volume of heartache held for them, the rawness of the love which bears them into existence.

And when the child is not your own and you must live into a place that is not-parent, but rather mentor, or friend, or some indefinable something else–where then does this animal go to dwell? And where does the fierce protectionism burn when the child grows older, finds wings on which to lift away? Where does that energy live, when the cage you’ve built in your heart is no longer large enough to contain its nervous pacing, when there is not enough flesh to keep it fed?

Should there not be a guide book for this wild adventure? A star chart or a river guide? Should there not be an ancient map, a gilt compass, moss on the north of the tree? How do you find your footing when you dwell on the edge of love’s fierce map?

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