Instead of changing the channel when a sex scene comes on, I want to ask, out loud: “Why do you think displayed intimacy makes you uncomfortable?”



Instead of losing patience when they ask,“What are you doing with your life?”, I want to be able to say: Look, I know you worry about my future, and so do I. But knowing you have faith in me would make adulthood a lot less terrifying. This is a process. Let’s figure it out together.

I want to ask: How did you start being afraid of careers in the arts? What hobbies did you give up on? What are the dreams you would’ve taken a chance on, if you grew up now?

Will it be awkward? Yes, for sure. Will it lead to an argument? Probably. Will it be worth it to know them better? Undoubtedly.

When I am sitting with my kid and she asks me to tell her about my childhood, I want to be able to describe two human beings, each with unique insights, fears, and desires, who happened to be my parents. Not two strangers I had breakfast with while they discussed a relative’s new TV.