Porn, sex toys, dating apps – sex seems to be available everywhere these days. Our society is perceived as oversexualized, while at the same time private sexuality has become more complicated. Our own sexuality is often still a topic considered intimate, private or even taboo. And if we take a closer look, it is much more than that: sex is political. Highly political, I would like to emphasize.
Throughout history, sexuality has often been used as a means of resistance – just think of the sex strikes that women used to assert their demands. However, sometimes it is not external struggles but internal processes which make this political dimension tangible.
2019 was such a year for me. It was the year in which I imposed a “sex strike” on myself – not in protest against political conditions, but out of a need to take a fresh look at my sexuality. A little context: I am cisgender, heterosexual, live in Paris and have been in committed relationships for a long time. But that year, as I approached my 40s, I entered a period of celibacy that was both exploration and reflection.
The shockwave of MeToo: an intimate reconquest
A year after the MeToo movement, feminism moved into an area which is at least as political as the public sphere: our bedrooms. It was a kind of reclaiming – not only of bodies, but also of sovereignty over what happens to them. This moment triggered a shockwave that made me question my relationship to my body, my sexuality and sexuality in general.
The trigger for this was an encounter that began as harmlessly as it ended soberingly: a man I had known for weeks was in my bed. I had expected tenderness and sensuality – what I got was the opposite: mechanical, predictable “banging sex” with a monotonous rhythm.
The discovery of the cultural screenplay
This experience made me realize how much our sexuality is shaped by social conditioning. The script is almost always the same: foreplay – penetration – climax – end. This routine has been globalized not only by cultural norms, but also by the porn industry.
But is that all? Can’t we rethink sexuality? The mechanics of this “sex routine” bored me, and I was convinced that I wasn’t the only one.
The 4D movement: A radical reinterpretation
In recent years, a new trend has emerged that represents an even more radical departure from the conventional script: the so-called 4D movement. It stands for “Do not date, do not desire, do not depend, do not do” – in other words, a conscious decision to completely disengage from romantic and sexual relationships.
Women who join this movement actively choose not to invest their energy and time in sexual or partner dynamics. Instead, they focus on their personal development, career or other areas that they find more fulfilling.
The 4D movement represents a form of radical empowerment: It not only defies patriarchal expectations, but also the meritocracy, which often views even sexuality in a context of success and optimization. For many women, this path means a liberation from constraints and a return to their own autonomy.
A gentle rebellion
Inspired by this development, I also began to lead my own gentle rebellion against sexual norms. Gentle because it wasn’t radical, but playful. Gentle because it focused on the sensual aspects – touch, time and discovering new possibilities. I was inspired by the concept of slow sex: no longer being fixated on orgasm, no pressure to deliver a performance, but focusing on the experience. It was about having sex without a goal, not being guided by a script, but being spontaneous and aware of the moment.
One major change was to redefine foreplay – no longer as a compulsory exercise that follows a specific sequence, but as something that can take place at any time.
Body, mind and soul: a non-dualistic perspective
At the heart of this rebellion is an attitude that breaks away from the separation of body and mind. We love not only with our bodies, but with everything that we are. This requires a rethink, a departure from the hegemonic script and a willingness to see sexuality as an expression of our entire personality. Whether we commit to slow sex, join a radical movement like 4D or simply write our own script, one thing is certain: it’s time to recognize the political in the private sphere and bring more of ourselves into this most intimate of spheres. Sexuality does not have to follow the dictates of efficiency or conformity. It can be a space for development, change and even rebellion – against what was and for what we want to be.
Let’s get involved: with ourselves, with our partners and with a sexuality that is more than just a performance. Because ultimately it is not just a private decision, but also a deeply political one.
