Preach, Taystee.

Lately, I've been reflecting on a lot of the YA books that I've read, and on how the category typically treats the topics of sex, innocence, purity, and romantic affection. I've shared my woes before in previous posts about the nonsensical perfect first times that teenage heroines experience, and I've challenged the idea of magical young love where everything works out in end. While these are issues in YA that I've been able to recognize throughout the countless novels I've poured through, I think it's time we really look at how we, as writers, should be addressing sex in our stories.

I'll be honest. I don't read a whole lot of YA contemporary these days. Unless it's something that has been personally recommended, I don't actively seek out novels in this genre because it doesn't really appeal to me at this point in my life. I do, however, read my weight in YA fantasy/sci-fi/adventure. No matter what the genre is, YA is a very progressive category, and you can really see the changes it has gone through over the years. However, sex seems to be an exception in that progression. When The Hunger Games was released, every heroine was almost expected to be completely naive and virginal, like Katniss Everdeen, when it came to sex. In fact, it was barely even mentioned, much less displayed. Even now, many of these protagonists don't have their first sexual experience until the final act of the story, and that is usually with a love interest whom she trusts, adores, and has endured endless hardships with. There are a few that break the mold, but most of them hold up these ideals of waiting for love and having minimal partners and keeping their limited sex lives completely private.

Sure. That is the ideal in the minds of a lot of people. We all know that YA is not immune to the scrutiny of parents, administrators, and just any adult with something to say about those overly hormonal teenagers. Sex is still something that has a lot of boundaries when it comes to what is considered acceptable to show and to talk about. Many parents don't want their children reading books where sex is present, much less prominent. This likely comes from the hopes that their own teens will maintain the pure nature of characters like Katniss, and refrain from sexual experiences. For a multitude of reasons, there's a sheltering attitude built around these chaste heroines, and anything that deviates from that could cause any kind of controversy.

But here's the truth. Sex is a part of teenagers' lives, whether they're having it, talking about it, or just endlessly wondering about it. It is an undeniable presence that they're going to be faced with in some way or another.


And here's another truth: very few teenagers are going to have sexual encounters that compare to the picture perfect, sugar coated scenes that bring many of the YA characters we love together in a magical way that doesn't hurt, isn't awkward, and never results in any sort of shame or physical or emotional consequences. It goes far beyond the fact that we never see these characters pause to ask questions or use any sort of protection. They're saving the world, so who has time for condoms, right?

Here's one way to look at it. There are two types of teenagers reading these novels: those who have had sex, and those who haven't. I know. Duh. But one half of this demographic is going to be wondering what his or her first time will be like, while the other half may still be trying to figure out the emotions and repercussions of his or her first, second or one hundredth time. An author should be able to speak to both of these groups, and make an effort not to set up ridiculous and flawed expectations for their virgin readers, while also reaching out to those who have had sex, in whatever capacity, expressing reassurance that he or she doesn't need to feel ashamed or regretful or defective if their sexual history can't measure up to what they're reading. Sex is weird, okay? It's a situation in which physical and emotional insecurities are laid bare in front of another person, open to their judgment and scrutiny. It's a way to use someone, play games with someone, and even humiliate someone if that is the desired effect. Yes. It can be 'magical'. No. It's not always as big of a deal as people make it out to be. You can sleep with one person or twenty or two hundred and you are of no lesser value than someone who remains abstinent.

No matter how clear this can be, there will always be critical eyes ready to shut down a book that dares to suggest something other than a path of purity. Of course, everyone believes what they are going to believe, but there needs to be a wider representation of the teenage sexual experience. As of right now, it's pretty one sided. There's only vague, implied true-love-sex or no sex at all, which is wildly inaccurate in the throes of real life.


So I'm not a parent. I've never had to raise up a young human and teach them how to value themselves and what not to listen to in the buzzing world around them. I have, however, been that young human. I was taught that sex and intimacy were reserved only for the safety of a marriage and that anything else was wrong and cause for shame. Though I'm sure it wasn't intended, this was supported by a lot of the YA books I read when I was younger. There has been an endless debate regarding the accessibility to sex education amongst teenagers, and the same arguments can likely be made for the accessibility to sex in YA. If we display characters who like sex, have sex beyond that one perfect first time, and talk about sex outside of conservative boundaries, are we 'permitting' the act itself? Encouraging it? Making it out the be the 'norm'? Of course, there is no black and white answer. I think we can make a rather strong conclusion that if teens want to have sex, they're going to do it regardless of what books they read.

However, there is certainly a lot of progress to be made in the ways the sex is portrayed. Because right now, we're not really keeping it real. I want to read about heroines who are not defined by the boy she loses or already lost her virginity to. It can be nothing more than a small detail in her life. I don't want to see virgins on pedestals and I certainly don't want to see anymore obscure, unprotected love scenes that do nothing more than play it safe and build impossible expectations. Just like with every other social, ethical, and cultural topic addressed in YA, we have a responsibility to our readers to write with honesty, sensitivity, and a general understanding of the vulnerable stage of life that our target audience is in. We've all been there, and we always need to be conscious of the messages we send out to those finding solace in our words.