I was recording a poem for Instagram a few weeks ago when the double-edged irony of “just sex” occurred to me. As someone who grew up religious and is now part of some erotica communities, I’ve experienced both sides of this coin.

If you’re familiar with purity culture, you know the weight physical intimacy is given. Particularly for women, sex is the end-all be-all of bodily relations. In many cases, it goes beyond even abstinence preaching. [Side Note: I’m not at all against abstinence preaching. I think sex is sacred because of its bonding power, and who you give that kind of vulnerability to should be carefully considered for the sake of your own mental/physical/emotional wellbeing.] Waiting until marriage or only having one sexual partner over the course of your life is one thing, but I’ve also seen an extension of this narrative that positions sex as an incalculably precious and therefore irreplaceable part of you. Less like a carnal experience and more like a priceless artifact – mishandle it, and you desecrate all involved.

If you have anxiety, fear authority, constantly question your worth, or generally think in terms of black and white… this can be a problematic approach. Here’s why:

Viewing your body as a temple and sex as a threat can lead to guilt from any physical intimacy. You may start to see sexual activity as inherently tied to other aspects of your life, overanalyzing romantic relationships because you’re afraid to “waste” your body on someone “unworthy”. Setting boundaries is great, but being paranoid about a partner’s approach to intimacy could make you miss out on real and meaningful connections (which aren’t always sexual).

Believing sex is an irreplicable act that can’t be taken back or reclaimed (otherwise known as the “used tissue” or “chewed gum” narrative) implies that someone is inherently less valuable once they’ve engaged in physical intimacy, which is insanely damaging. [Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse: This is especially heinous when you factor in sexual harassment or assault. Imagine telling a young woman her trauma is permanent, that she can never fully recover from it.]

While your body is absolutely a gift, “giving” it to someone else implies that they now have ownership of it. For some people, this is a kink (love you, dark romance readers!), but others might translate it as a lack of control or agency over their own body. You have power over your own choices, and only you can determine the extent of the role sexual activity plays in your relationships with others. You can’t “belong” to someone else based on physical intimacy alone.

So, when we look at the idea of “it’s just sex” from a purity culture or religious perspective, it seems very freeing. This isn’t a soul tie, a promise you can’t take back, or something that will follow you around for the rest of your life. Sex doesn’t define you. It’s just another physical interaction, not all that different from a high five or hug. You can move on after a sexual relationship without guilt, insecurity, or the belief that you’re somehow less worthy of affection. You also don’t need to feel sustained attachment to someone just because you’ve been intimate with them.

On the other hand, if you are sexually active and take pleasure in frequent intimacy with multiple partners, labeling it “just sex” can diminish the very real and often lasting connections that come with it. Sharing a bed (or other surface) with someone shouldn’t be considered wholly meaningless either. There’s still a certain sacredness that comes from allowing yourself to be seen naked, from letting someone touch your body and touching theirs in return. [As a romance reader, “just sex” is actually one of my favorite tropes, because I think it’s insanely fascinating to discount physical attraction as somehow lesser than any other connection.] So, while it can be comforting to diminish the effects or implications of sexual contact if you’ve spent your formative years guarding it like a rapid dog, consider this too…

For those in the BDSM lifestyle or other kink communities, sexual relations are so load-bearing that they dictate the entire dynamic of a couple and rely almost entirely on mutual trust. The power someone chooses to give you over their body is something to be respected, cherished, honored, agreed upon, and upheld by both (or all) parties.

Plenty of healthy relationships begin with physical connection – making out with the hot guy at the bar, brushing fingers with your barista, the character who gave you new private-time material – before blossoming into something deeper. “Don’t judge a book by its cover” is a nice saying, but graphic designers make a living off the fact that it’s kind of bullshit sometimes.

Minimizing any part of yourself as “just” anything runs the risk of internalized self-debasement. Sex can be beautiful, wonderful, powerful, and fulfilling. The human body is a treasure, and we should take pleasure in it. Enjoying physical intimacy is similar to enjoying anything else in this life – you have to appreciate and take advantage of it, otherwise what’s the point?

TL;DR – Whatever “just sex” means to you, make the most of it. If you grew up with Bible-thumpers, let this be your sign that it’s okay to treat it casually. If it means a lot to you, let this be your sign that those connections matter as much as any others.

[Yes, this post was supposed to be longer and have a better ending, but then it took ages to write and now I just need it off my proverbial desk.]

Love, Claire 💜