My daughter's reality show

That's right. My daughter was calling me a loser for being hooked on all the sexy reality shows that she was above watching now that she had a sex life.

OK. I had to calm down. I had to remind myself that I was not the "uptight" kind of mom, and I didn't have a problem with her doing something that would make her "disheveled." She's 15, she's watched "Sex and the City," and she's a healthy red-blooded girl, right?

But why had she felt the need to keep things about Ben a secret from me? And what really happened on that sleepover? Exactly how far had they gone?

The following evening my husband and I took her aside and asked her what was going on. She admitted without any hesitation (and with some relief) that yes, Ben was her boyfriend. Now that it was finally out, I could see that she was proud of the fact. And she honestly did seem to like the little punk, I mean young lad.

We proceeded to have the inevitable conversation about how important it is to have a mature, intimate relationship before becoming too physical with a boy, so we really felt that she should not be having sex, so, as my daughter would say, yadda, yadda, yadda.

She reassured us that they weren't doing anything stupid like that. She said she didn't want to do that yet, and looked at us like we were a couple of perverts for even thinking such a thing.

I felt relieved.

Then she said, "So can Ben sleep over?"

"What?" I said. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because you shouldn't be sleeping in the same room together."

"Why not?"

My husband looked at me. He taught her to swing a bat -- this was my domain.

"Because it will make it too tempting for you to go too far."

"That's not fair. My friend Amelia gets to have her boyfriend sleep over."

"No!"

"Just because you had hang-ups about your body ..." she hurled at me, "I don't have to have them about mine!"

This was a low blow. She'd read my novel (some people would say it was inappropriate for a 15-year-old) called "Thoughts While Having Sex," which is about a 25-year-old woman who is very anxious about sex. No matter how many times I'd told her it was fiction, she liked to think I never made anything up. She was now touching on something that did make this more confusing for me. In my 20s I did struggle with feelings that sex was not supposed to be for "good girls" (like me) and I didn't want her to have that same experience. I didn't want sex to seem forbidden to her, or like it was just for "other girls" or "bad girls."

But she was only 15.

The talk ended on that unsatisfactory note. And it wasn't until the following morning, when I went on a walk and was thinking about everything, that I realized I hadn't said anything positive about the fact that she had a boyfriend! As if all this news had simply been a threat to her maidenhead. As I arrived home, she was just leaving. I got in what I wanted to say just as she stepped onto the elevator. "You know, during our talk I forgot to say something."

I held open the elevator door. She raised her eyebrows at me.

"Congratulations. You're doing great in school, you look great, and you have a boyfriend. I'm proud of you!"

She smiled, said thanks and looked quite relieved that the elevator door was closing. Of course, I had thoroughly embarrassed her. But somehow, I had remembered in the nick of time to say the right thing.

After that, she was in a much better mood around the house. She didn't have to keep Ben secret anymore. And it became clear that the secret had been wearing on her. And she could now bring him over, and we could actually get to know him, and they could "get disheveled" in the comfort and privacy of her own bedroom instead of some friend's basement. She made me promise not to tease her about him, which I promised. And I realized that she needed us to adjust our perceptions about her. She was older now. "Getting disheveled" was not just something she was watching on TV; it was something she was actually doing.

Though the question persisted. Exactly how far had she gone? How far were they going to go? Should I get her birth control just in case? Would that only encourage her to go further? I wasn't sure what to do, but I did want to try, as much as possible, to stay in contact. Since we were back on a friendlier plane, I thought maybe she would be into watching some TV with me. And so I asked her one evening as she was passing from the kitchen to her Communications Center, "Want to watch 'Married by America' with me? It's really bizarre. This guy is proposing to a woman he's never even seen! There's a partition between them and a hole for her to stick her hand through so he can put the ring on her finger!"

"How stupid can you get?" she asked, and sat down next to me on the couch.

Finally, I thought, we're going to have some quality time together.

"Mom," she asked, "can Ben sleep over?"

Not this again. Couldn't she at least wait until a commercial break? "No."

"I promise, we'll sleep in separate rooms."

"I'm not staying up all night to make sure."

"Why don't you trust us?"

"Should I trust you? What did you do that night you had that sleepover? Before you told me he was your boyfriend?"

"We didn't do anything. I swear! You see?" She stood up. "This is why I didn't tell you! Now you know about him, so you set all these restrictions!" She headed to her room, turning for a moment to toss off the coup de grâce. "It's not like we can't do whatever we want to do when you aren't home, you know!"

Yeah, I knew. So what's a mother to do? Letting Ben sleep over did not necessarily mean that they would have sex. But wouldn't it make it more likely to happen? So wouldn't it be sending the wrong message? I was not giving in on this.

Even though 15 just sounds too young to me for sex, some of my favorite, most accomplished, smart and interesting friends tell me they had sex at that age. I went to one of them, also a mom, for advice.

Next Page: You want your daughter to enjoy her body. But you want her to be ready for it

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