Sex And Stuff.

Maybe let’s talk about it.

You know, sometimes I sit and think about how one small word—just three letters—can carry so much weight.

Sex.

It’s everywhere and yet somehow still off-limits. Everyone knows about it, everyone hears about it, many experience it, but few ever really talk about it in a way that feels real, safe, or even helpful. It’s in the movies, the books, the conversations that trail off into giggles or silence. It’s in the lyrics, the stares, the jokes, the awkward school lessons. Sometimes, it’s even in the quiet between people who won’t say it out loud, but you know it’s what they mean.

As a Christian, I have been raised to understand sex within the context of marriage—and I hold that truth very close. But I also know that silence can be dangerous. Pretending like this thing doesn’t shape people, or pretending that if we don’t talk about it, it won’t show up in our choices or our lives… that’s just not true. Sex does shape people. It shapes futures. It shapes how we see ourselves and how we let others see us. It’s not everything, but it really does feel like it’s in everything.

I have watched it unfold in lives around me. In heartbreaks that weren’t just romantic but soul-deep. In women who never got the chance to ask questions without feeling shame. In guys who learned more from porn than from parents or pastors or even just honest friends. And you know what? That breaks my heart a little.

Because here’s the thing—we are all wired to be curious. We are all wired for connection. And somewhere in all the purity talks and abstinence-only classes, what got lost was preparation. Real, tender, thoughtful preparation. Not just how to say no, but why. Not just waiting, but waiting well. Not just boundaries, but understanding. Not just fear, but wisdom.

I once heard someone say that she grew up being told sex was dirty, wrong, off-limits until marriage. And then suddenly, one day, it was supposed to be holy and amazing—just like that. A switch flipped. No one had ever helped her navigate the in-between. And it’s that in-between I think so many people are still figuring out.

I am glad the world is opening up more space for these conversations, but I still wonder: Are we really talking about it? And if we are, are we doing it well? Are we creating rooms where people feel safe to say “I don’t know,” or “I am struggling,” or even just “I am curious”? I hope we are.

I don’t have all the answers—but the truth has already been given. Sex, as God designed it, is sacred. It was never meant to be confusing or shameful, but rather something deeply good, deeply spiritual, and to be honored within the covenant of marriage.

Still, the world is loud. The messaging is constant. And many are being shaped by that noise in ways they don’t even recognize. That’s why conversations like this matter—not to normalize sin or blur the lines, but to bring light where confusion has grown, to remind us what God actually said, and to offer truth in love.

This isn’t about curiosity for curiosity’s sake. It’s about asking the real questions in the right places, and hearing real answers from the right voices. It’s about being equipped—not just to say no, but to understand why we say no. Not out of fear, but out of faith. Not because sex is bad, but because it’s too meaningful to be treated carelessly.

The hope is that more people learn to speak about it rightly. That sex is not everything—even if it seems like it’s everywhere. And that purity, both in body and in mind, is not just possible but beautiful.