For a while, it really seemed like sex positivity was having a moment. The general public was supposedly more sexually adventurous than ever thanks to the pandemic, male nudity was steaming up our streaming services, and portrayals of sex work — in films like Good Luck to You, Leo Grande and Pleasure — were offering a more nuanced view than ever before.
But, as it turns out, celibacy is having a moment, too, proliferating on Instagram and TikTok, where self-appointed health gurus are touting celibacy as the latest health and mindfulness practice. Proponents brag about how many days they’ve gone without sex, or even masturbation, claiming such benefits as improved mental clarity, better creative thinking and greater energy levels. This isn’t celibacy of the incel variety we’re talking about either; this is very much what you could call voluntary celibacy — but it’s an abstinence from sex that has adopted a superiority complex.
The hashtag #CelibacyTikTok currently sits at more than 89 million views. Proponents of the trend talk about how celibacy has changed their lives for the better. Corresponding hashtags like #healingjourney and #selfhelp often appear alongside these posts, aligning celibacy with psychological, spiritual and physical health. In one video, with over 17k comments predominantly about celibacy, one TikToker says that it gave them “the space to figure out who I want to become”.
Sex educators are calling this out as psychologically harmful and a massive step backwards in terms of social attitudes. While sex positivity seemed to be going a long way to challenge misogynistic and outdated ideas around sex, particularly when it came to slut-shaming and ‘body counts’, it appears that celibacy advocates could be undoing a lot of this work.
The messaging around celibacy in these videos is often uncomfortably close to misogynistic ideas around virginity and purity. One video with more than half a million likes by a New York-based artist says that celibacy has made them “really picky towards females”, going on to say, “I don’t want to spend [my body] on someone that’s not worth it.” In this way, celibacy repositions sex as a prize to be won and demonises anyone who causally indulges in sex.
Some proponents of celibacy, perhaps predictably, come from traditional Christian or other mainstream religious backgrounds. But others are creating a fusion of celibacy with new-age healing practices such as reiki and chakra balancing, seeming to throw in celibacy as an add-on. Take this one tweet from an LA-based reiki healing centre that charges $100 per hour for its services and advises the following: “Celibacy can change your life. Hold your seed — your life force and use it to build your legacy and self up.”
Gen Z are, in many ways, the ultimate consumers of wellness. Gen Z are exponentially more likely to attend therapy than millennials or Gen X (and are far more open about it). They are also more focused on functional diets and exercise. And while that’s undoubtedly a good thing, perhaps this cultural shift towards wellness is fertile ground for dodgier practices and teachings masquerading as health.
Celibacy, says sex and intimacy coach Lucy Rowett, gives a very simplistic answer to a complex problem, and can discourage the nuanced thinking needed to break down social stigmas. And while it can seem like a step towards personal development, celibacy could just be a form of avoidance. “It teaches very binary thinking that feels comforting. Why bother exploring the nuance, how you think and feel about sex, how you think and feel about your body, emotional patterns you’re running, deconstructing societal messages about sex and gender, when you can just teach that sex is bad and dangerous, and the solution to all your issues is just to abstain?”
Jude* practised celibacy for six months before realising that their discomfort around sex was tied to feelings of confusion prior to coming out as queer. “I was a very spiritual person, and still am, and very into healing practices, reiki and stuff like that. Celibacy was this thing that was all about focusing on yourself, on your deeper needs. But I realise now it was kind of just a way for me to cram my issues with sex in a box and close the lid. I decided on this message of, ‘Oh, that’s why sex makes me feel bad’, and didn’t think about it anymore.”
Jude says a lot of the people they met while practising celibacy came to it in a similar way. “Some people were really big into yoga, pretty everyday stuff like that. But it was definitely people with this interest in health, physical health, and trying to live more mindfully.” The messaging being pushed by celibacy enthusiasts is often pretty intense, verging on the cultish. “Celibacy…” reads one tweet, offers an “opportunity to see just how much you have been giving your life force energy away.” There’s a lot of talk about life force, energy and chakras — and the general lesson that sex is something that will harm you in some way.
“Celibacy messages can create a lot of dissociation and a kind of psychological splitting around sex too, especially in folk who go all in and fully embrace the messaging,” Lucy says. “What that means is it can cause you to engage in secretive sexual behaviour, watch porn and then feel intense guilt and shame around it, for example.”
Obviously, engaging in risky sexual behaviours that put you at risk of STIs can have a health impact. Still, those pushing celibacy for health are implying that sex is some kind of drain and something that is inherently unhealthy in and of itself — a pseudoscientific idea with absolutely no evidence to back it up. In fact, studies have shown the precise opposite, indicating that sex has a number of health benefits. “There is evidence that sex can improve your immune system by increasing antibodies and your cardiovascular health through both exercise and by balancing oestrogen and progestogen within the body, which can lower risk of heart disease,” says Dr Frances Yarlett, GP and Medical Director at The Lowdown.
Jude started therapy and eventually began attending sex-positive events with their partner, and now struggles to see how celibacy could ever have been a long-term solution. “Sex is a bigger part of my life now, and adjusting my thinking on that, moving away from these ideas that sex is something bad or shameful, that’s what’s really made me happy and able to figure out who I am.”
Lucy perfectly sums up why celibacy messages can be so toxic: “While sometimes abstaining or practising celibacy can be helpful if you’re trying to break some patterns that were harming you, the issue is the underlying message that gets taught that sex, sexuality, and therefore your genitals, your desires, your pleasure, and your orgasms are dangerous.” In short, sex is a part of life, and simply cutting out a part of life won’t necessarily help you solve your problems or face your demons.
*Some names have been changed