Amy Lu's View

I learned a lot from my mom: to be generous, and loyal, and tough, and funny, and to always keep one’s hair dyed. (I’m not saying I excel at all of these life lessons–except for the hair dyeing–but I appreciate their value). 

One thing I did not learn from my mom was how to helpfully talk to young people about sex. 

I’m thinking about this because today would have been my mom’s 88th birthday (all I can say is “wow”) and I spent the morning co-teaching a sexuality education class for middle schoolers at our church. 

Our curriculum is fantastic. The philosophy of the program is to provide youth with accurate and comprehensive information, so they can make healthy decisions. 

My mom’s approach to talking about sex wasn’t harmful–she didn’t portray sex as bad or shameful–but what she had to say was rather weird and confusing. 

My mom’s slogan about sex was: “It only takes 30 seconds.”

Okay, maybe it’s not accurate to characterize “It only takes 30 seconds” as a slogan, but my mom did say that a lot when she was musing about why other parents would have a curfew for their teens. Her logic was that sex only takes 30 seconds so having a curfew wouldn’t stop teens from having it. 

So I never had a curfew, but there was also absolutely no chance that I was going to have sex in junior or senior high (not because I was smart or virtuous). And just because I didn’t have an official curfew didn’t mean that my mom didn’t freak out if I didn’t get home by the time she expected me to (ah, life before cell phones). 

I never had the fortitude to ask my mom to clarify her take on the duration of sex. Was she talking about 30 seconds from beginning to end, or just “the highlight”? No matter how one defines “sex,” saying it only lasts 30 seconds does make sex seem rather disappointing, or at least unremarkable. 

When I remember something about my mom or my youth, I’m used to going to my sister as a source of confirmation: “Did mom tell you sex only lasts 30 seconds, too?” 

Of course I can’t do that anymore, and that’s hard. And now I not only miss my mom on her birthday, but I’m learning it’s a day when I feel the absence of my sister even more sharply. My mom’s birthday was always a day when I felt more connected to my sister, because I knew we were two of the people in the world who missed my mom in similar and profound ways. 

I won’t use this blog post to try to solve the mystery of why and how sex could only last 30 seconds, but I know that grief and love last longer.