A week ago, I called my mom and asked something I never imagined I’d ask. “Do you wanna schedule a time to go to a sex shop? It’s for an article I’m writing.”

My mom, unsurprisingly, said yes.

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This is the same woman who laughed when my older sister accidentally found a vibrator of hers and commented on how good it was; the same woman who would take any opportunity to crack a “that’s what she said” joke.

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A different mother-daughter relationship

My mom’s as sex-positive as they come. While our relationship has always been steady, we rarely had conversations about sex when I was growing up — much less would I have imagined then that I would one day visit a sex shop with her.

Not only am I more shy and reserved about things in general, but as I was going through adolescence and developing sexual feelings, I always felt ashamed because of my queerness.

Puerto Rican family dynamics are notoriously hetero-normative, and queerness automatically brands you a pariah. Moreover, I’m neurodivergent, so this additional “otherness” made me want to shrink and conceal myself. Every time the topic of a conversation between my mom and I would turn into sex or potentially go in that direction, I’d redirect us or even stop the conversation entirely.

When I came out as a lesbian at 17 years old and embraced my sexuality, I became more honest with my mom. Sex grew to be a more comfortable topic to discuss and explore.

While we were rushing from the Uber to Romantic Depot, a sex shop in NYC, my mom read some of the posters on the store’s entrance out loud. She made a note to herself to go to their “Tuesday Ladies Nights” with her homegirl and encouraged me to go to their “Monday LGBTQ+ Nights” with my partner.

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Stepping into each other’s shoes

Amongst anal plugs and dildos of various sizes that populated the sex shop, I took the opportunity to learn more about my mom through a series of questions.

What had influenced her viewpoints on sex?

“I’m very open when it comes to sex. I’ve never shied away from the topic or my own body,” she told me. “Growing up in a Hispanic household, you kind of get shamed for being a woman who enjoys sex. And I’ve overheard the ladies in my family shame others. I just knew that it was wrong. And I always felt that they always knew they were wrong as well. You were either pure or promiscuous — nothing in between. And I just had a completely opposite view on sex. My relationship with it is strong and healthy.”

I also wanted to know if her family had shamed her for embracing her sexuality.

“Absolutely,” she answered without hesitation. “Even for just liking a boy at the age of fourteen and fifteen, they called me fast. They told me to stop being a little puta and go read a book. Yet, they would glorify my cousin, who was a male and the same exact age as me, for having a lot of girlfriends. He treated them like shit, but my family wouldn’t even blink an eye.”

But then, I had to ask: how did my mother feel about her children expressing or owning their sexualities?

“Oh, I’m all for it. I actually would love for each of my children to embrace their sexuality because there is absolutely nothing wrong with embracing pleasure and your body.”

It amazed me how my Latina mom turned out to be, despite her upbringing. She also grew up during a time in which Puerto Rican women and other Latinas were seen as “spicy” and “exotic” objects for the Eurocentric male gaze.

In her community, raised alongside other Nuyoricans and Caribbean folks in the South Bronx, women were automatically assumed not to have sexual desires and were merely vessels for male desires. Our conversation deepened my admiration and respect for her.

Conversations that break generational curses

After my questions, my mom helped me pick out restraints for my partner and me to try. I helped my mom find bachelorette party goodies for her engaged friend, and she stumbled upon “BJ Blast” (oral sex candy) and bedroom dice she was excited to try.

When we checked out, we both took turns spinning the wheel next to the cash register and won free mini vibrators. She got a pink one, and I got a purple.

I’m truly grateful for my mom, who did all she could to help me create a healthy foundation for my relationship with sex. She refused to be a silenced woman or hide her sexuality like many women in her family before her. She made it easier for future generations, and I hope to continue her work for generations to come.