Sex Ed vs. Porn Ed
Sex Ed vs. Porn Ed
I have to admit: since discovering that I could watch strangers have sex without being present, I went out of my way to do so. Like many of us, porn played a huge role in my sexual education. Hasn’t it for you?
When was the first time you saw a naked, turned-on person? Was it your first lover—or a porn video? I remember my first thoughts: “Is this how I need to act? Do I need to look like that? What if I don’t measure up?”
As a teenager, I was filled with hormones and questions. I eagerly tried to make sense of HBO’s late-night fuzz or early online porn, wondering how so many people seemed comfortable broadcasting their most intimate moments. Porn grew rapidly, and it shaped my ideas about sex more than I realized.
At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I watched porn and let myself fall into its rabbit hole (pun intended), losing connection with the presence and intimacy of real sex. I grew frustrated when my boyfriend didn’t act like the men in videos. Ironically, he didn’t watch porn. He was raised to respect sex as sacred and avoided its casual exploitation.
By exploitation, I mean the way we normalize extreme and degrading scenarios in porn. It made me question: Is this what I truly desire, or is this what porn has taught me to desire?
In my personal experience, I can’t orgasm unless I feel relaxed, trusting, and safe. Yet, the performative nature of porn often made me prioritize looking sexy over actually feeling pleasure. Women, how often have you been excited by the promise of passionate sex, only to end up staring at the ceiling, enduring a 10-minute session with no foreplay?
Isn’t that the Tinder generation?
A study shared by my Tantra coach, Bibi, revealed that the global average for sex, including foreplay, is just 12 minutes. That’s not entirely men’s fault—it’s a reflection of our society’s broken approach to sex education.
We’ve replaced repression with overexposure, swinging from one extreme to another and calling it freedom. But freedom without education or emotional awareness can lead to disconnection.
The Dark Side of Porn
According to Fight the New Drug, a survey of 1,500 young men revealed that 56% had developed increasingly extreme tastes in porn. Over time, many consumers become aroused by things they once found disturbing or unethical, leading to dissatisfaction with real-life intimacy.
I’ve been there. My porn consumption created fantasies that left me unfulfilled and disconnected during actual sexual experiences. Instead of relaxing into pleasure, I was critical, detached, and often performing, as if someone was watching.
One lover even told me, “You fuck like a porn star.” It broke me. He criticized the very behavior that porn had trained me to emulate—behavior he himself mirrored. Neither of us was truly present, and both of us were hurting.
The Need for True Connection
Our culture lacks guidance on cultivating meaningful, fulfilling intimacy. We’re not taught to prioritize connection or explore pleasure without shame. We’re not shown that sex can be sacred through patience, curiosity, and love.
Instead, we consume fast-food sex through porn, expecting instant gratification without understanding its effects. Pornography trains the mind, not the body. But true pleasure lives in the body, not the mind.
Healing Through Self-Love
Rewiring my relationship with sex has been an ongoing journey. I’ve learned to replace shame with curiosity and to treat self-pleasure as self-love.
If you’re looking to reconnect with yourself, try this: masturbate without porn. Schedule it as a self-love appointment. Light a candle, play your favorite music, and touch yourself with care. Explore what truly feels good without judgment.
When your mind drifts to porn-trained fantasies, pause and ask yourself: If this scenario were real, would my body experience it as pleasurable?
The Bigger Picture
Pornography isn’t inherently evil, and our curiosity about sex is natural. But our reliance on porn as a primary source of sexual education is damaging. It fosters disconnection, shapes unrealistic expectations, and fuels industries linked to exploitation and harm.
Imagine if we treated sex with the same mindfulness we bring to nutrition or fitness. What we consume influences who we become. So, ask yourself: Is what I’m consuming aligned with the love and connection I desire?
Sex has the potential to be the most joyful, healing, and transformative experience in our lives. To unlock that potential, we must prioritize education, communication, and self-love. Let’s rewrite the narrative, one loving touch at a time.
