By: Sherina Nicole

Option 1: Deny, deny, deny.

Option 2: Partial admittance, total embarrassment

Option 3: Total admittance, total confidence.

These were the options I felt  available to me while my parents stared back at me, awaiting my answer.

“Yes. I am having sex.” First, I felt brave, choosing option three, to come right out and tell my parents, at 18 that I was and had been having sex. Then I felt ashamed as my parents, especially my father, looked at me in utter shock. And then annoyance set in. Annoyed that I was letting myself feel bad, annoyed how late this conversation was, and annoyed at how it looked like it was going to end.

To take a step back, the day my parents were ready to speak with me, I had just come home from working at a shoe store paying me minimum wage (but a dope family and friends discount!) my freshman summer. By the time I was 18, my bird had already met a couple of bees and had figured the moment to discuss this with my parents would never come. I had just I assumed we would be another Caribbean household where no one speaks on their physical activities until someone comes home pregnant.

So here I was, joining my parents after work, rhythmically eating food my mom cooked to calm my nerves. "Sherina, we want to talk to you.” Pause. “Are you sexually active?”

I couldn't give myself a moment to think too much into my three options: deny, half truth, full truth. Honestly it wasn't as much bravery as it was pure adrenaline rushing to my head that allowed me to flip the damn script.

There was a long pause after I admitted to sexual activity. Then I doubled down. “I believe this is the point in the conversation YOU are supposed to give ME pointers and highlights on safe and healthy sex.” Another pause. “Guys seriously, what about talking to me about using condoms, birth control, the emotional element, STIs?” Here I was at eighteen, moderating my own sex talk with my parents. 

My dad began a brief overview on the things that I should know, most of which my school had already covered; my mom didn't add much. Ironically, we were all uncomfortable speaking on a topic we all knew we all knew about.

Overall, I'd rate the convo a D. This was a a conversation that I could have brought up years ago and they should have. Luckily, I had my siblings, a strong sisterhood, and counselors to help me with a few of the mysteries of sex but not most of them.  When my family should have been my first stop, shame convinced me that should never be a stop at all. I left underwhelmed that my parent's hadn't shared more honestly or set up follow up conversations and SOMETHING HERE.

The fuqs:

• I spoke my truth from a stance of faux confidence but 100% honesty rather than what others may have expected- completely worth it.
•  I challenged my parents into uncomfortable, unknown territory for all of us. We were pushed to a new level of vulnerability we had never shared and I am not sure they had been able to share with their parents at my age.

I wish I could say things changed dramatically from there. The conversation we had then cracked open the door that is only now really being pushed in, closer to 10 years later. Now I try to have one-on-one chats with the ‘rents about their own experiences from when they were my age and now.