My young adult children have noisy sex with their partners when they come to visit - and it makes me feel SICK. Should I tell them to stop?
For Christmas this year, I would like an impregnable set of headphones. I use the word advisedly: these ear defenders are the only way I’ll be sure to avoid the sound of my young adult children having sex with their partners in our small semi-detached house, and I have no desire for grandchildren just yet.
Daniel is 23 and Elizabeth is 20. She is in her second year at university and he’s back home after graduating. This is the first year that both my children are ‘partnered up’ – and if experience is anything to go by, I have some serious noise-blocking to do.
The evidence that my son was having sex was first presented to me earlier this year. I was sitting at my desk in the spare room writing a tricky article when I heard a rhythmic tapping on the wall. At first, I thought it was something to do with the plumbing – odd at the start of September, I thought.
Then, it dawned on me. My stomach plunged down several storeys, I went cold all over and leapt to my feet as if stung by a jellyfish.
Daniel was . . . entertaining his girlfriend in his room. His bed is placed up against the adjoining wall. It didn’t take a genius to work out the rest.
Fighting the images that had flooded my mind, I raced down to the kitchen and demanded that Alexa play Roll With It at top volume as I walked in small circles, trying to process this new information.
At some point we parents are going to have to accept that our adult children have become intimate with their partners
When I thought it was safe – half an hour would suffice, surely? – I crept upstairs to go to the loo. The noise had stopped, thank God. But now the bathroom was inaccessible to me, because the happy couple had decided to shower together.
I went downstairs, yanked open the front door, slammed it behind me and went out to a coffee shop to use the loo and expunge the pictures from my brain.
If that wasn’t bad enough, my daughter will be bringing a young man home over the festive period.
I’ve known that Elizabeth has a boyfriend – a student on her course – for some time. Last week, she called and asked whether he could stay at ours for New Year. It didn’t cross my mind to refuse. But how on earth will I cope with being assaulted by this symphony from two angles?
There are many blessings involved in watching our children flourish – but one of the curses is navigating their entry into a grown-up sex life.
We can put our fingers in our ears and sing ‘la la la’ – both literally and metaphorically – but whether we want to admit it or not, at some point we are going to have to accept that our adult children have become intimate with their partners.
These tiny beings – for whom we pureed carrots, wiped noses and bandaged knees – are now having properly adult relationships. And, of course, we want them to be happy and to find lasting love, but do we really need to hear the evidence?
Sitting in the cafe, I thought harder about my visceral response. What did I do when I was the same age as Dan and Elizabeth? From memory, I was either in my university digs, or I waited till my parents went out.
After university I didn’t go home. By my early 20s – in common with all my now fiftysomething friends – I moved straight into rented accommodation. When I was my children’s age, my meagre starting salary at least afforded me a house share.
Things are very different now. The cost-of-living crisis means that many can no longer afford to live independently after graduation. If they even leave in the first place, that is.
According to a 2023 survey by Statista, 42 per cent of young adults aged 15 to 34 live with their parents, either because they’ve never left or they’ve come boomeranging back. Hence your late teen or early twentysomething child bringing that first proper relationship home, too, when we kept it well away from parental ears.
Do you suffer in silence or do you let them know that they've been disturbing you?
Even if your house is large enough not to hear them – or your offspring tend to the discreet – the time will come when you’ll know they’ve been at it. Which is, quite frankly, queasy-making for you and embarrassing for everyone.
Do you suffer in silence or let them know that you know?
I did a straw poll of my friends. ‘I don’t know what goes on and I don’t want to know,’ said Julia, pulling a face. Most of my acquaintances felt the same, though a lot of them were blessed with bigger houses than my own. ‘I think Joshua and his girlfriend wait until we go out,’ says Helen.
Sally told me about the time her husband had suspicions about what their 18-year-old daughter was doing, and rooted through her bedroom drawers, where he found a pack of condoms. ‘
I’m not quite sure what Jim was expecting,’ says Sally. ‘Of course, he couldn’t bring this up in conversation because he shouldn’t have been looking in the first place. I tried to console him with the fact that at least Laura was having safe sex, which didn’t seem to make him feel much better.’
The fact remains that, like it or not, our becoming-adult children are going to become sexually active at some point.
As regards my own offspring, it’s possible I have been too liberal, that I’ve cultivated a ‘permissive’ attitude in my house. In contrast, some of my friends have firm ground rules. When Hannah’s daughter Sian brought her first boyfriend home at 17, Hannah sat her down to discuss the situation.
‘We talked a lot about her boyfriend, especially because, at 21, he was quite a bit older than she was,’ says Hannah. ‘We discussed my hope that they wouldn’t sleep together before Sian was 18, because I felt it would allow her more of a chance to be in “control”. I also made my husband meet the parents before he was allowed to stay over.’
Sian is now 24 and the relationship is still going strong.
‘I am lucky because actually, he is a sensitive boy,’ says Hannah. ‘I have never heard them in bed because I suspect he’s had a strict upbringing and they are respectful of the fact that she has younger siblings around.’
My friend Janice (who is, admittedly, a therapist) doesn’t get the fuss. ‘Why are you so freaked out by this?’ she asked. ‘The fact your children are having serious relationships in their early 20s is a great sign. It shows they are normal, that they’re psychologically healthy. They can listen, compromise and connect with another person in an adult way. It shows that you’ve done a great job of bringing them up.’
As my former colleague Louise says of her 25-year old son: ‘I love seeing Finn being such a lovely boyfriend to Poppy, and it makes me feel very proud of him. I just feel sad he has less time to talk to me. Even so, I wouldn’t want to hear them having sex, thank you very much.’
But before I get too defensive and self-pitying, there is a sting in the tale – and possibly some revenge to be had. It’s been three years since my divorce from Dan and Elizabeth’s father. Earlier this year, I finally met a new man of my own, Nathan, who lives in Manchester. He will be spending Christmas and New Year at ours.
He’s already stayed over once when the children were here, and there was much sh-shhing and giggling, and moving the bed away from the wall so it didn’t make a sound. But after a brandy or two, who knows what Christmas night might bring? Maybe my children should invest in some headphones of their own . . .
Some names have been changed.
Four ways to deal with it, according to experts
Realise it’s inevitable
Acknowledge it – your family roles are starting to change.
‘As your children grow up, your role as their parent changes, and you need to accept this,’ says Susan Quilliam, a psychologist and relationship expert.
‘That’s not to say this will be an easy transition, but there are ways to make it less challenging.’ You are moving from a parent/young child relationship into a friendship; your power-dynamic is shifting and you’re embarking on a relationship that’s more one of equals.
Accept society’s changed
‘Social mores have changed, we are less bound by religious strictures, and it’s probably less shocking than it used to be for an adult child to share a bed under your roof,’ says psychotherapist Sheri Jacobson.
...But don’t be afraid to put down boundaries
Ideally, says Jacobson, your children would spend some time elsewhere – share time out between the other set of parents, for example. ‘But if there really isn’t a choice, you may need to compromise,’ she says.
‘If you forbid them to sleep together, you risk a rupture in your relationship – your child could go elsewhere, and possibly even put themselves in danger.’
And let them know if they’re disturbing you!
‘The situation may feel embarrassing, but you may find your child is not as embarrassed as you are,’ says Quilliam.
‘Enlist their help in solving the problem. Say: “If you were in my situation, what would you do?”’
Separate the emotional from the practical. Accepting your child is now your equal is a difficult thing to do, but it’s also the loving thing to do.’
