If you’re an only child, you’re kind of stuck relying on strangers or school teaching you about your body and sex. Unless you’re lucky enough to have really cool and proactive parents, they often don’t approach you to talk about the “birds and the bees” until it’s too late and it’s usually not very useful anyway. Mature conversations and descriptions of sex typically don’t happen in most households, unless it’s coming from a cable TV show or movie, which is a mixed bag when it comes to accuracy.
When I was about ten years old, I secretly snuck away my mom’s Blockbuster rentals to go watch the latest Sex in the City episode. I enjoyed the way the women would openly talk about their various sexcapades, but one episode, in particular, caught my attention. It was titled “The Turtle and the Hare.” This one focused on sex toys and the introduction of the now famous “Rabbit” vibrator. The episode was ambiguous enough in that it didn’t actually describe this toy in explicit detail, only that it provided the lead character an immense amount of pleasure and enjoyment.
Fast-forward about four years later and now both I and my mother were watching Sex in the City. I guess she figured that since I was a teenager, the show wasn’t too taboo for me to watch. We got to bond over salacious episodes covering orgasms, blowjobs, cum, and all sorts of crazy sex-related adventures, but when it came to these topics in real life, me and my mom never talked about it.
Despite her interest in Sex in the City, one of the most popular HBO shows involving sexual topics, my mother wasn’t that hip or interested in discussing anything sexual with me. My boy-talk with her about my dates or attractive men were dry and banal as you would expect from any other conservative mom in the country. I just assumed my mom had no interest in sex and just watched the show for pure entertainment.
Well, all of that flew out of the window on one fateful day when I was rummaging in my mom’s room, trying to locate one of my favorite pieces of jewelry. As I was ducking low to scan underneath her bed, I spotted the infamous magical vibrator described on Sex in the City. There it was, the pink Rabbit, under my mom’s bed, wrapped neatly in a plastic bag.
This changed everything, in my mind at least. As I got older, I began experiencing all the sexual flings and sexcapades that I watched on Sex in the City with my mom, and we talked more about it, too. The mental barrier I had previous to finding her toy was no longer there, I knew that my mom liked sex and wasn’t just interested in the show for superficial purposes.
Now that I’m an adult, it’s much easier to make jokes or talk about sex with my mom. Out of curiosity, I checked the spot under her bed again, but noticed the Rabbit was missing. I hope that she simply relocated it, rather than stopped using it for whatever reason. I guess once she reads my post, she’ll let me know.
