I originally wrote this post twelve years ago. At the time, I was mentoring teens through a local agency. After defending myself time and again about the upside of abstinence, I decided to write out how I felt and publish it on my old blog. I have updated my original post to reflect personal experience with my own (now) teenagers. I haven’t changed much. And I still make no apologies.

Abstinence is such a no-no word in our culture and I don’t know why. Abstinence is about so much more than “not doing it .” When you teach abstinence you have to explain the concept of self-worth. You can’t just say, “Don’t do X because it’s wrong.”

Believe it or not, as a parent, you’ve been teaching abstinence your child’s entire life. For example, “we don’t say shut up in this house” (we abstain from unkind words) or, “we don’t hit our friends” (we abstain from fighting with our fists) or, “you don’t talk to your mother that way” (we abstain from disrespectful behavior). The list goes on.

I’ve been preaching abstinence to my boys at the dinner table, in the car, during a movie scene, and any embarassing moment I could squeeze in since they were old enough to say, “but mom everybody else….” Abstinence, in a broad sense, is refraining from behaviors or actions with which you don’t agree, or you find harmful or damaging in some way to yourself and others. Abstinence says, “this is who I am, what I stand for, and where my boundaries are.” Abstinence is a lifestyle choice.

As a young adult, I often said crushing things about my own parents. I thought they were unreasonable old meanies who didn’t want me to have any fun. What I didn’t know then, but have appreciated for many years now, is that they gave me the gift of a long youth so that I had time to navigate the murky waters of adult behavior. They gave me the gift of boundaries so that “just saying no” to impaired driving and experimenting with drugs and staying out of the backseats of cars was not as hard as it could have been. They were by no means perfect in this regard (and neither was I), but the message was clear.

To my darling sons and all teens everywhere:

Please don’t think I don’t believe in you. I do. I believe in young love. I actually think love at first sight and high school sweethearts are both real and highly romantic entities. I believe in having fun. I believe in the rush of risk. I don’t find teenagers to be stupid, vapid, shallow, remorseless, or mindless. I think teenagers are feisty, creative, independent, curious, interesting, and sometimes quite charming. I also believe that teenagers are very young, highly inexperienced, prone to impulse, not well-practiced in self-denial, or patience, and occasionally are just plain dumb.

The most reliable way to make sure you have a future is to develop a skillset and find a career path that will enable self sufficiency. Putting yourself at risk of derailing those plans with an unwanted pregnancy, disease, possible addiction, unintended overdose, brain injury or bodily harm is a huge gamble. When you lose, you lose big. Aren’t you worth planning a future for? Who could you be if you thought it was really worth trying for?

To my fellow parents in the foxhole with me:

Talking about abstinence—from sex to seatbelts—is hard. I try to take the long view. Say no now, so that you can yes to so many other things later. I’m not a hypocrite. I acknowledge and explain to my boys tha the rules are slightly different for adults. However, I believe the decisions our kids make under 18 truly affect how they make decisions over 18. The kinder we treat that prefrontal cortex before 25, the kinder life will be to our children.

Why is it socially acceptable to talk about safe sex physically but not emotionally? We as a culture make a huge mistake and thoroughly under-mind our children’s self-worth when we only teach about condoms and birth control as “safer sex.” The concept of safe sex implies sex is inherently unsafe. Wow, what a mixed message to send! Where is the open dialogue to help our kids navigate their feelings and their fears and their questions?
Do I support the use of condoms among sexually active people–teenagers or adults? Absolutely. Do I give condoms to my teenage sons with a “just in case buddy” and walk out of the room? Hell no. Do I sit them down at the kitchen table for a long and very uncomfortable talk about the responsibilities and emotional rollercoaster of unzipping their jeans? Every chance I get. Do I tell them that girls might interrupt college dreams and future plans? Yes. Do I try my best to help navigate true loves and false loves and just plain hormones? Yes, yes, yes. Do we talk about all types of birth control and disease? Of course.

Do I preach against any and all drugs? Every single solitary time.

Do I enforce the legal drinking age in our home? You betcha. Do we talk about the dangers of drinking and parties and how to remove one’s self safely if things get out of hand? Yes. Do I talk about their responsibility to their dates at social events? Yes.

Do we have safe words to text when they need help and an understanding that we (mom and dad) are always the first call? Absolutely.

Do I preach about seat belts, speeding, and the perils of social media? All. The. Time.

Am I perfect? No. Do I know these things from experience? Mostly. Do I share my experience? Sometimes. Learning from our choices is part of self-worth too (Forgiving your own youth is a blog post for another day.).

Why do all this heart-wrenching, gut-busting, terrifying, hard to talk about stuff?

Because I believe my sons are worth it. I want them to become masters of their own self-worth. And I believe self-worth begins with abstinence. Abstinence is not a dirty word. It’s not old-fashioned. It’s not frigid, naive, or unhealthy. Abstinence is about believing that you choose the who, what, when, where, why, and how of your behavior—any behavior. Abstinence is about so much more than “not doing it.”

Love Y’all So Big,

Marla