Cultural taboos intimacy are honestly the reason I’m hiding in my bathroom right now typing this on my phone because my roommate’s boyfriend is in the living room and I’m scared he’ll see the title on my laptop. It’s 2:47 pm on a Tuesday in Portland, it’s drizzling like it’s personally offended, and my left sock has a hole in it. That’s the energy we’re working with today.
That Time Cultural Taboos Intimacy Literally Ended a Situationship in 48 Hours
So last month I’m seeing this guy—let’s call him Micah because that’s his real name and he’ll never read this—and we’re at the stage where we’ve slept together exactly 3.5 times (the .5 was handsy but clothes stayed on, don’t @ me). Anyway, I make the fatal error of leaving my period underwear drying on the towel rack. Not even the cute ones. The giant beige granny ones with the faded blood stain I’ve been too lazy to peroxide. He saw them, did that thing where guys suddenly remember they have “an early meeting,” and I never heard from him again. Like straight-up ghosted. Because apparently menstruation is still the ultimate boner-killer in 2025?? Cultural taboos intimacy stay winning.
The Purity Culture Download That Still Lives Rent-Free in My Head
I was raised in a Southern Baptist house where we weren’t allowed to say “crap” but my youth pastor could rant about “fornication” for 45 minutes easy. Fast-forward to me at 31, and I still flinch when I buy lube at Target. Like full-body cringe, convinced the cashier is judging me. Last week I literally used the self-checkout and whispered “it’s for… dry skin” when the machine asked if I needed help bagging. Ma’am it’s astroglide. The shame is that deep.
Here, have some science so I don’t sound completely unhinged: apparently a 2024 study from the Kinsey Institute found that 68% of American women still feel “some degree of guilt” about non-procreative sexual pleasure. Sixty-eight. In twenty-freaking-twenty-five.
Dating Apps Are Just Cultural Taboos Intimacy in Trench Coats
Current Hinge prompt I saw yesterday: “I’m weirdly attracted to women who’ve never had a one-night stand.” Cool cool cool. So either lie and say I’m basically a nun, or tell the truth and get labeled “damaged goods” by some dude who owns three polos in the exact same shade of salmon. I unmatched so fast my thumb cramped.
Real things I’ve been shamed for in the last year because intimacy taboos are apparently immortal:
- Owning more than one vibrator (how dare I have preferences??)
- Admitting I watch ethical porn sometimes (yes it exists, google it)
- Wanting to be called a good girl in bed (the judgment was INSTANT)
- Having an IUD (apparently that makes me “the type of girl who just sleeps around” — direct quote from a situationship in July)
The Tiny Rebellions That Are Keeping Me Sane
I’ve started doing this thing where I say the “scary” stuff out loud on purpose now. Last week I told a new guy—on date TWO—that I have a praise kink and sometimes cry after orgasms because emotions are weird. Thought he’d bolt. He just looked at me for a second and went “honestly same about the crying thing.” We made out in his car for like 40 minutes after. Cultural taboos intimacy took a fat L that night and I’m chasing that high forever.
Look, I’m still a mess. I still hide my toys when my mom visits. I still panic-delete my browser history like I’m sixteen. But I’m trying, yknow? Slowly unlearning the idea that my body is a problem to be managed.
If you’re out there clenching your butthole reading this because it hits too close—hi, same. Drop your own cultural taboos intimacy horror stories in the comments so we can all feel less alone in this dumpster fire. Or just lurk, I get it. The shame voice is loud af.
Anyway. Gonna go touch some grass now. Or maybe just take a nap with my vibrator on the nightstand like the chaotic liberated gremlin I’m becoming. Progress is messy.
(References for the nerds:
- Kinsey Institute 2024 Sexual Shame Report: https://kinseyinstitute.org/research/publications/modern-sexual-shame.php
- That one Atlantic article everyone tweeted about last year: https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2023/09/american-sexual-shame-purity-culture/675402/)
