You’re Not That Kind of Girl: A Guide to Talking to Your Mom about Dating

I was named after a ginger slut in a book*, so it’s a given that I’d either be a slut myself or a nun, and my mom told me I couldn’t be a nun when I was 17 because I’d miss sex. The woman, my mother, was also known to discuss various sexual misconceptions with friends over dinner (pros and cons of douching with vinegar, why the AP Bio Teacher was full of shit and pass the couscous).

You’d think that with that kind of honesty about sex, and their people’s vaginas, she’d be open to talking about dating (and I not even talking about the naughty bits). But when I talk to her about going out with various men she’s ready to lock me in a convent. 

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this. And I’m pretty sure convents aren’t looking recruit women who’s mothers cannot handle chaste chats about dates.  So how do you handle a mother who cannot handle your social calendar? There are two approaches, I have outlined them below. 


When you haven’t answered your mom’s calls or texts in weeks, it’s not because you’re juggling three or four suitors/lovers, it’s because you have been so busy volunteering for that charity thing that your friend keeps on about. 

That’s not a hickey, it’s where a tennis ball flew over the wall of your office and bruised your virgin bosom. She knows how easily you bruise. 

You aren’t tired from a roll in the hay last night. You were up late online shopping, buying the things you bought at the mall last week for cheaper. You know your mother will be proud of you for saving $8 of your hard earned money.

You don’t own any toys, you’ve never sent a filthy text message, you don’t even know where your vagina is to have someone insert their penis into it, let alone touch it yourself. 

Tell the truth

You apologize to your mother for not communicating with her for nearly a month because your phone battery keeps dying because you are going out all hours of the day and night. Three or four dudes take up a lot of time, and leave very little time for charging batteries.

It’s a hickey, yes it’s on your lip, yes it’s a bit embarrassing. Maybe this is a good time to tell her about that one time you gagged on another human’s tongue…

Apologize for showing up to Sunday dinner yawning, and regale her with tales of post bang breakfasts and the coffee you would suck a cock for!

“Hey, Ma, wanna see the new dick pic I just got?” She’ll either love it or hate it but you won’t have to try to keep your story straight. 

You know your mother and you know what you can live with so you know which one works for your specific situation. 

And remember when naming your children that they will carry the torch of their namesake with them for always. If you’re going to choose a slut name, make sure the bitch was a smart slut.

*It was really the miniseries that spurned the naming, but, you know. Read The Thornbirds, it’s just a darn good book.

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