Current generations, for the most part, experience a sense of sexual liberty. Dating and hook-up sites can equate to sex at the touch of a screen, if desired, and the vast array of online material ensures all kinks and fetishes regardless of your sexuality are catered for. Such advocacy of choice and the debunking of myths surronding sex have been integeral for induviduals sexual exploration and expression on an emotional level. Not to mention, the multiplicity of health benefit’s from engaging in sex, including the stress release from secretion of hormones such as oxytocin ,dopamine and endorphins. It goes without saying: Sex is good for us!
But with such capacity for sexual freedom are we exercising our choices in the best way for ourselves?
And is a better way of approaching sex for some, a period of abstinence?
Recently, there has been a surge in a more modern brand of celibacy; stripping away the religious meaning, it is defined as choosing to not engage in sexual activity for a given time. The pandemic for many gave no choice in the matter of a period of abstinence, but the silver-lining of such limitations on who you can have sex was the creation of space for, and encouragment of a period of reflection into what boundaries you want to set, and the weight sex holds for you.
The notion isn’t that you shouldn’t be having sex, when you would like to with a consenting partner. Rather, it is about maximising the best relationship possible for yourself with sex for your OWN mental health.
Coming into adult years a lot of time is often spent healing past traumas to work towards future aspirations and sex should be included in this. For many, early years of sexual exploration, whilst exciting and new, can be filled with a plethora of emotions and experiences and within that includes the messy stuff of shame, regret, failed expectations, meaningless sex and distrubingly, the trauma of harassment and rape. However, in reflecting on experiences or boundaries that may have been crossed, you can focus your energy on what you do like. Abstinence therefore becomes a reclamation of the body.
What often comes to the surface, too, is a consciousness of the mass culture in which we are desensitised from a young age to erotica and sexual imagery. An awareness of the hidden power dynamics that pervade our notions creating an array of questions. Do you really enjoy certain sex acts or do you think you are meant to ? Does sex have a spiritual aspect for you? Have you perhaps used sex to manipulate, gain validation or fill a void?
Such questions aren’t supposed to be a self-interrogation but more away of healing, increasing intuition in yourself to know what does and doesn’t feel right for your body. Take such realisations and epiphanies as an act self-care. In allowing yourself the space to be mindful of sex you are not depriving yourself but putting yourself in a position to refocus. So, when you are ready to have sex it can be more fulfilling, even with increased sensations as you focus on your likes, dislikes and boundaries.
Obviously, weight and importance of sex varies from individual to individual. The narrative of abstinence is not necessary or appropriate for everyone.
But if it’s promotion gives some people a greater sense of mental health and wellbeing in sex then it’s a conversation worth having.