Today, my teenage sons came shopping with me, and part of our list included something for their 10-year-old sister, her very first bras. Because, well… breasts happen.
Every night, she comes downstairs after her shower, hair dripping and sticking to her head because she never remembers to towel it dry. She wears a simple sports bra and boxer shorts, kisses me goodnight, then heads upstairs to read before bed. We don’t sing bedtime songs anymore. She’s growing up, and it’s changing all of us.
In our family, nothing is off-limits. We talk about everything age-appropriately, honestly, and without shame. From bath time as a toddler to talks about puberty, periods, intimacy, and relationships, we’ve always kept our conversations honest and open.
I thought I’d get a break between my two sons (now 16 and 15) and the girls (10 and 6), but when Lucy came downstairs one night asking why her nipples were sore, I knew puberty was arriving for round two.
Just months ago, she’d asked for her hair to be cut short, like her brothers. At the time, I mourned the loss of braids and bows, but it was my own lesson in letting her define what being a girl means for herself. Hair is just hair.
A couple of nights later, she mentioned to her dad, with me sitting right beside him, that she needed to start wearing bras.
He wisely pointed her to me, and I promised to pick some up. Fast forward to a Target trip for my oldest son’s new job uniform. My younger son tagged along, still convinced a job will buy him a Tesla in weeks. After getting what we needed, I remembered Lucy’s bras. We headed to the girls’ underwear section, and the boys had plenty of questions: What are bras for? Does she need one now? Does this mean she’s in puberty? I answered plainly, without drama.
When we got home, Lucy and her little sister were thrilled over a basic three-pack of sports bras. Lucy proudly tried one on, Polly looked at her like she’d just been crowned prom queen, and the boys nodded and went on with their day. No embarrassment. No taboo.
Some people online were upset I didn’t take Lucy shopping herself. But she hates shopping, and making it a “big deal” can create pressure. This way, the boys learned it’s no different than buying socks and if they ever have to do it as adults, the stigma is gone.
If we normalize things for our daughters, we should do the same for our sons. Puberty is natural, and talking about it should be too. Now, if only I could get Lucy to towel-dry her hair.
