Sex in the 21st Century on College Battlegrounds

By Sophia Romano

Author’s note: The following article is permeated with my own opinion and is a result of my own experiences. I realize this could be a controversial topic, because we each view sex, and thus value it, differently, and perhaps I happen to ascribe more emotional weight to it, or even feel it stronger, than others do. However, any other reasoning is honestly beyond my understanding and own experience. 

There isn’t much I can tell you about sex that hasn’t already been written, or that you don’t already know. But maybe, if you’re where I am when it comes to sex, love, relationships, and everything in between, you could benefit from the personally-opinionated word vomit that ensues.

My relationship with sex gets more and more complicated by the day. It’s been complicated for as long as I can remember, actually. In my life, my experience with and knowledge of sex begins with repeating the unbeknownst-to-me innuendos I heard on television. From the horror on my father’s face, I learned it was something taboo and to never mention again. What’s more, I recognized sex as the culprit for why I had so many siblings who I rarely saw with different fathers that I couldn’t keep track of. I never did get an official “talk,” likely because my young and single father had zero idea how to broach such a topic with me. Unlimited Internet access stepped in instead.

Please don’t make me spell out how the Internet aided my sexual exploration. My interest in sex became greatly accelerated yet obscured. I couldn’t dare tell anyone about the explicit content that I was, unfortunately, beginning to consume at a very young age. Thus, I started picking up ideas on my own that would later take years to deconstruct. I learned early-on that sex was catered entirely to the rough, animalistic manly-man that fucked a thin, long-haired, big-tit-and-perfect-ass bombshell who loved every second of it. I would see these women and couldn’t ever fathom a comparison between them and me, but, either way, I figured that we were subjugated to the same role in sex, and I applied this to all the sexual endeavors I had for the next few years.

Then I came here, to university. Yes, yes, I was going to classes and learning a wealth of high and private educational information. It just so happens that I learned a lot about sex, too. My mind was blown. Barriers of monogamy shattered. The already blurry shape of my sexual orientation became amorphous beyond label (just the way I like it). Power dynamics that sexual partners could assume liquefied and poured into molds beyond my sheltered imagination. Positions and kinks galore.

It was a lot of fun at first. But I, personally, am not an avid fan of the casual and/or random hook-up, yet I noticed that that’s what the college sex and dating scene is more or less comprised of. It’s here that I was, and still am, conflicted.

I find myself torn between two options to satisfy my sexual desires. One is giving into the quick rush of a hook-up, with a dancing partner whose blatant disinterest in anything other than the prospective head I might give them will most definitely blunt my emotional well-being as I fall asleep alone and cold. The other is a relationship in which sex (hopefully) comes naturally, and while this is my more favored option, I believe this requires a level of emotional intimacy and connection that many college students are not willing to dive into. The alternatives to these two binaries of sexual release I find myself stuck in are the silicone replicas we all know and love, or something much, much more sinister: the friends-with-benefits agreement.

This agreement, in my personal opinion and experience, permanently alters if not forever ruins the friendship it was born out of. In fact, I’ve had such bad luck with FWB situations, or any other similar agreement, that I’ve recently renounced them despite any persistent raging (and usually impulsive) horniness. Standing among the ruins of friendships, connections, and bonds with other people that I once held so dearly to my heart, I realized just how significant sex can be. I, for one, am done subjugating sex to some little, trivial, unimportant thing as if it doesn’t have a serious influence on my emotional and mental well-being, all for a quick release.

FWB arrangements don’t seem like they can really honestly and truly work out. How I see it, there are two roles to play while in such a situation. Role #1 is romantically apathetic. They let their lust run so rampant that they’ve begun to go after their own friends for that sexual satisfaction, likely stunting their own emotional development. This role is sexy, but calculated and, at the end of the day, cold. They know exactly what they want, and the right moves to get it. Role #2 begins happy to be there, but inevitably (and foolishly) ascribes romance to the things Role #1 doesn’t think twice about. Role #2 exchanges their emotional well-being to be the receiver of Role #1’s orgasms, living off morsels of attention and affection from a partner made out of straw that they have created. 

I’ve played both roles. And even in the most seemingly perfect arrangements, where all kinks (no pun intended) were ironed out, I still found myself or my partner falling into one of these roles. Even otherwise, I cannot see how any kind of FWB arrangement is beneficial to anyone. Ultimately, these arrangements debase the value and significance of sex by pretending that a lack of emotional intimacy between two people that fuck is normal. Its popularity, especially in a college setting, teaches us to accept less than what we deserve. We, as flesh and blood human beings, are more than a convenient release for someone (who we may even consider a friend) to use. FWB arrangements can allure you with the convenience and ease of casual sex all they want, but they are self-serving and cold.

On this potentially (likely) high-horse of muddled sexual conflict, where is one left to go? Aren’t these the alleged best years of our lives, especially when it comes to the sex our young-jointed bodies are capable of handling? 

I’ve had an interesting time with hook-up culture, but I’m done. I’m all for free love! But I yearn for the love that values and cares for me. Protecting my emotional peace led me to literal involuntary celibacy, as if bangs, glasses, and apparently just my aura didn’t get me 2/3 of the way to femcellery. From sex back home: where I was much younger than I’d prefer, catering to aggressively heterosexual and, worst of all, older boys, to here: where sex not in a committed romantic relationship rarely considers my emotional security—I’m exhausted. I no longer have any interest in having sex with someone who has no interest in me; who won’t even take the time to get to know me or value me for me. 

But I love sex! I won’t give up hope! It’s fun, exciting, hot and all things that. Have fun! Be safe! Love yourself and all others!