Who Taught You What to Believe About Sex?

The ideas we carry about sex, desire, intimacy, and our bodies didn't appear out of nowhere. Maybe it's time to decide which ones still belong to us.

Have you ever stopped and wondered where your beliefs about sex actually came from?

Not what you believe today.

Go further back.

Before the relationships.

Before the marriage.

Before the heartbreaks, experiences, confidence, insecurities and years of figuring yourself out.

Where did you first learn what sex was supposed to be?

Because somewhere along the way, most of us were handed a collection of rules.

Some were spoken.

Some were whispered.

And some were communicated without anyone saying a damn word.

We learned what was acceptable.

What wasn't.

What "good girls" did.

What men supposedly wanted.

What women supposedly wanted.

What was normal.

What was shameful.

What we should talk about.

And especially what we shouldn't.

Then we carried some of those messages straight into adulthood without ever stopping to ask:

Wait. Do I actually believe this?

We Didn't Start With a Blank Slate

Our ideas about sex are influenced long before most of us have enough experience to form our own opinions.

Family.

Religion.

Culture.

Friends.

Television.

Movies.

Music.

Magazines.

The decade we grew up in.

And, perhaps most powerfully, silence.

Because silence teaches things too.

If nobody talked openly about sex in your home, that communicated something.

If bodies were treated as embarrassing, you noticed.

If affection was common, you noticed that too.

If certain subjects immediately changed the mood in the room, you learned where the invisible boundaries were.

Nobody needed to hand us a rulebook.

We were paying attention.

Then There Were the Messages About Women

Women have received some particularly confusing instructions.

Be attractive—but don't try too hard.

Be sexy—but not too sexy.

Want sex—but not too much.

Don't want it too little either.

Be confident about your body—but preferably have the "right" body first.

Be experienced—but apparently not that experienced.

And somehow we're supposed to navigate all of this while appearing completely effortless.

That's quite an assignment.

No wonder so many women reach adulthood with complicated relationships with their bodies, pleasure, desire and confidence.

We're trying to figure out what we want while carrying around decades of messages about what we're supposed to want.

Who Said That Was the Rule?

This is where things get interesting.

Take one belief you have about sex or intimacy and ask:

Why do I believe that?

Then ask:

Who taught me that?

You might know immediately.

Or you might realize you have absolutely no idea.

Maybe something you've considered "normal" your entire adult life came from a comment someone made when you were fourteen.

Maybe an insecurity came from one lousy relationship.

Maybe you've spent years worrying about something your partner has never actually cared about.

Maybe you've assumed everyone else was having some wildly sophisticated sex life because movies, social media and television made it look that way.

Spoiler alert:

They're probably also wondering whether they're doing it right.

Our Bodies Change. So Can Intimacy.

There's another layer to this conversation that becomes especially relevant as we get older.

Our bodies change.

Hormones change.

Relationships change.

Energy changes.

Confidence changes.

Life changes.

And intimacy can change with it.

What worked at 25 might not be what you want at 45, 55, 65 or 75.

That doesn't automatically mean something is wrong.

It might mean you're different.

There can be enormous freedom in recognizing that intimacy isn't something we figure out once and then repeat for the next fifty years.

It can evolve.

So can desire.

So can relationships.

So can the way we feel about ourselves.

Communication Beats Mind Reading

There is one particularly ridiculous expectation surrounding sex that deserves to be retired:

That people who really love each other should automatically know what the other person wants.

No.

They're your partner, not a psychic.

People change.

Preferences change.

Bodies change.

Something that felt wonderful ten years ago might not anymore.

Something you weren't interested in before might suddenly sound intriguing.

Being able to say what you like, what you don't like, what you're curious about, what makes you uncomfortable and what you need is far more useful than trying to perform some imaginary version of perfect intimacy.

And yes, talking about sex can feel awkward.

Sometimes hilariously awkward.

Talk anyway.

Confidence Isn't Performing Sexy

This may be one of the biggest lessons I've learned about confidence.

Sexual confidence isn't walking around feeling irresistible every second of the day.

It isn't having the perfect body.

It isn't lingerie.

It isn't knowing some secret bedroom trick.

It isn't performing "sexy" convincingly enough.

Real confidence is much quieter.

It's knowing yourself.

Knowing your boundaries.

Being comfortable saying yes.

Being equally comfortable saying no.

Being curious without feeling ashamed of curiosity.

Being able to laugh when life—or your body—does something ridiculous.

And understanding that your sexuality belongs to you.

Maybe Midlife Gives Us an Advantage

There are plenty of things about getting older I'd happily negotiate.

I'd like a word with whoever designed hot flashes, for example.

But there are also things about getting older that I wouldn't trade.

Perspective is one of them.

Eventually, you start becoming less interested in performing your life for everyone else.

You start asking better questions.

Do I actually like this?

Do I actually want this?

Why am I still embarrassed about that?

Whose approval am I waiting for?

Is this belief mine—or did somebody hand it to me thirty years ago?

Those questions don't apply only to sex.

They apply to almost everything.

Fashion.

Bodies.

Relationships.

Careers.

Motherhood.

Marriage.

Aging.

Success.

Who we're supposed to become.

That's reinvention.

Not becoming a completely different person.

Becoming more intentional about deciding who you already are.

You Get to Change Your Mind

One of the best things about being an adult is that we're allowed to reconsider things.

You can change your mind.

You can outgrow beliefs.

You can decide something you once accepted no longer makes sense.

You can become more conservative about something.

More adventurous about something else.

You can establish new boundaries.

You can become curious.

You can decide something simply isn't for you.

There isn't a finish line where we're handed our permanent adult identity and told:

There. That's you forever.

Thank God.

We're supposed to keep learning.

The Stay Sexy Standard

This is one of the places where The Stay Sexy Standard means much more than appearance.

Stay Sexy isn't about proving that you're sexually desirable.

It's about staying connected to yourself.

Stay curious.

Stay confident.

Stay playful.

Stay honest.

Stay willing to question the rules you've been carrying.

And don't let shame make decisions that should belong to you.

You don't have to become anyone else's version of liberated, sexy, adventurous or confident.

That's just another set of rules.

The freedom is getting to decide for yourself.

So maybe the question isn't simply:

What do I believe about sex?

Ask the more interesting one:

Who taught me to believe it?

And once you know the answer, ask one more:

Do I still want to?

Because growing older gives us the opportunity to look at all the things we've inherited—beliefs, expectations, rules, fears—and decide what deserves to come with us.

And what we're finally ready to leave behind.