Picture it: a Monday evening. We are all curled up on the couch together as a family, watching television. I’m sitting at one end of the couch. My husband is on the other side, his long legs stretching almost entirely across to my lap where my kid keeps climbing on and off, going to play for a minute then returning for a hug or kiss or general invasion of personal space. Suddenly, amidst the latest snuggle, I feel a sudden sharp pang on my upper arm, and look down, expecting to correct our new puppy for the thousandth errant chomp of the day. But no – my daughter was the one who had bitten me!

Not hard at all, but she’d bitten me; my yelp startled her, and she buried her face in my chest to hide, already knowing she’d done something wrong. I wasn’t looking to scold her, but merely asked her why she would bite me; cue the end-of-night super-tired four-year-old waterworks. At first she said she didn’t know why she’d done it, and I assured her that that happens to people sometimes, we all do things without thinking once in awhile. I then started to explain gently that we don’t bite people, it isn’t nice. Then she really started wailing.

“But I like it!” she insisted, and then proceeded to demonstrate how she likes to gently chew on her own arm.

Wait, what…?

It’s one thing if this was a mistake. Doing something to someone else’s body, just because it’s something you like yourself, is another matter entirely. I had to promptly pivot from the making mistakes lecture to a body autonomy lesson. I was not at all expecting to have to put this hat on tonight, but it was important to me that I follow through to the finish line on that one, even while concerns about my kid’s new oral fixation behavior were trying to take over my brain. (Maybe she’s having a teeny bit of regression with so much attention going to the aforementioned new puppy lately. Hard to say. At four years old, it isn’t what I would call an outrageous problem at the moment.) Anyway, it’s a hill I will die on, but I consider it utterly crucial that we start these conversations about our bodies and consent and boundaries at as early an age as possible, in ways that children can understand.

In case anyone is wondering, I actually didn’t say anything too different to my daughter than what I just explained above. I told her that we cannot do something to someone else just because it’s something we like for ourselves. I told her that’s not okay. I also explained that it works the other way too, where if someone tries to do something to her because that’s what they like, that isn’t okay either. As she gets a little older (and isn’t in the middle of sobbing at the top of her lungs when the time comes), I can teach her things to say to help assert her boundaries with others, but it’s equally valuable that she learn to respect others’ boundaries.

Eventually she was able to express to me that she had bitten me by mistake because she was aiming for her own arm. We tried to convince her not to do this chewing on herself, but clearly it’s serving some sort of self-soothing purpose, so I didn’t push too hard tonight about it when she was already upset. We’ll see what happens. Meanwhile, between her and the puppy, maybe I need a suit of armor to wear around the house these days!

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Talk to your children about their bodies, and boundaries. Do it early and often. Educate them on their right to autonomy and the importance of consent. Change begins here. This process is essential. Even if it bites.