Introduction by Faye Curran
For most young people across Ireland the lifting of restrictions meant freedom. The freedom to be properly youthful again, to tread not just further but far less carefully.
Late nights returned and with them the shouting over questionable DJ sets, the swapping of numbers and the queasy bellies in the back of fast-moving taxis. And of course regular sex, one-night stands with no strings and the thrill of new erotically charged relationships developing in person, as opposed to online, made a welcome return.
But what difference did those two pandemic years make to our sex lives? The young men and women we spoke to had a lot to say about their sexual activity – or lack of it – since most of the restrictions were lifted. Some noticed their sex drives waning, others worried about a reliance on pornography and one young straight woman expressed concern that many of her female friends were less concerned with their own sexual pleasure than that of their male partners.
To various degrees all of them pointed to the influence of social media on the sexual behaviours and attitudes they noticed in themselves and their peers.
What this 23-year-old student noticed, both from conversations with friends and sexual trends across the internet, was that the pandemic wrought a transformation in the way people seemed to be talking about the subject. Lockdown ushered in discussions that included much broader perspectives on the topic.
In the time of separation and seclusion, we younger people had the time and space to look at ourselves, to question our identities and explore the possibility, theoretically at least, of new sexual experiences.
As we trudged slowly out of lockdown, it began to feel as though I might be the only straight girl left in my liberal, artsy, college circles
Life under strict pandemic restrictions appeared to wind some people up like Duracell bunnies. Sex was on their minds, all the time, and they had no problem sharing. My TikTok page was buzzing with the discourse around sex, from young people sharing their own preferences, to concepts like “Hot Girl Summer” (spending the warmer months being as sexually free as one wishes) dominating my feed.
It was often difficult to keep up. A new debate around sex seemed to pop up every second day, with users exploring such topics as “vanilla sex” versus “kinky sex”, female objectification under the guise of sexual empowerment, the use of choking or hitting in sex, and the debate around the virtues or otherwise of anal sex.
Sometimes during the last two years it seemed that in place of having sex, young people were filling the void by making it the focus of a lot of their online interactions.
Irish Times sex and relationships columnist Roe McDermott affirms this pandemic-related shift in sexual relationships from in-person interactions to online.
As she sees it, “for two years, young people didn’t get to express themselves sexually, or get to have sexual or romantic experiences with each other. Because they were so isolated, they had to turn to digital forms to express their sexuality or explore it, which means that [young people] were looking at porn more. They were sexting more and looking at online ways to express and explore their sexuality.”
Discussions around sexuality, as opposed to simply sex, also permeated online platforms. While some focused purely on lust, others zeroed in on specific preferences, asking themselves “if I could be having sex right now, who would I want to be having it with?”
If the online conversation around sexuality and gender had so obviously bled into post-lockdown life, to what degree had other things?
From my observations during the pandemic, sexuality, and the specific labels and stereotypes surrounding it seemed to shift, with many using this time to consider experimenting with those of the same gender for the first time in their lives.
Sexual fluidity became part and parcel of the sex lives of a lot of the people around me, with the expectation in these circles that many – especially women – were veering more toward bisexuality, as opposed to heterosexuality.
As we trudged slowly out of lockdown, it began to feel as though I might be the only straight girl left in my liberal, artsy, college circles. I sometimes found myself having to defend my lack of interest in those of the same gender. In many casual conversations around sexuality with friends, I was told that “you couldn’t possibly know unless you have tried”.
If the online conversation around sexuality and gender had so obviously bled into post-lockdown life, to what degree had other things? Had certain kinks or fetishes burrowed their way into the bedroom too, with people being more likely to experiment with inflicting or experiencing pain, anal sex or choking because of some 30-second long discussion of such activities they’d seen while scrolling their newsfeed?
To learn more, we spoke to a cross-section of people in their early 20s. With their anonymity assured and names changed, no subjects were out of bounds. By asking questions in relation to their sex lives, their preferences, their use of contraception, their consumption of porn, their engagement with sexting and their thoughts on different kinks and behaviours, we hoped to explore the many different perspectives young people had on sex after lockdown. This is what they had to say.
Interviews by Faye Curran (FC) and Róisín Ingle (RI)
Zara, 20, straight, student, Donegal
After the pandemic, I think there was this idea that “oh my god, we should be having loads of sex”. That was true for a lot of young people but I also know there are still plenty of people who haven’t even had sex yet who probably would have if the pandemic hadn’t happened. So it feels like this pressure has been building, the pressure to begin or to resume our crazy young sex lives. But that’s easier said than done.
You see it in Euphoria or other programmes and movies, this idea that everyone is out there having the best sex of their lives – the cultural pressure is definitely real. I think that’s why the “sneaky link” thing is happening. This is when you have someone who provides very casual sex, no strings. It’s all over TikTok. A lot of my friends have a sneaky link, somebody they have sex with but they don’t want anyone else to know about it.
I’m single now and I’d describe my sex life as sporadic. I have sex a couple of times a month. I used to have much more sex than I do now. If I have sex these days, it’s usually with somebody I already know, a friend. I’m not into one-night stands – I feel weird afterwards – so I try to avoid that.
I was 18 when I first had sex. It was with a friend. We both decided we wanted to start having sex so we decided to do it together. My first time was a comfortable experience, we hadn’t a clue what we were doing, but we trusted each other. I’m glad it happened that way.
'The boys are all having orgasms but loads of the girls aren't. It doesn't feel right to me'
When I first started having sex I had no expectation that I would finish, I mean have an orgasm. I was young and inexperienced and I didn’t really expect that from a guy. But now, especially having had a boyfriend previously, I do have that expectation. I’m more confident asking for what I want, instead of them just doing their thing and then it’s over.
I’m straight but lately I’ve been a bit more curious. Most of my friends are straight but they’d all have kissed each other on nights out at some stage, more for fun than anything else.
I watch porn, a few of my friends do. It’s mostly lesbian porn or porn made by women. The porn that men watch is too aggressive and makes me and my friends uncomfortable. The titles are disgusting – “16-year-old gets pounded by Big Daddy” – that kind of thing. I’d be more into “married couple have passionate sex” kind of content.
Porn is definitely where men got ideas such as choking women during sex – I just don’t think they would have come up with that on their own. For me choking is a definite no-no. It gives the man too much power.
I do have friends who like choking, especially with boyfriends. They allow their partners to do whatever they want, within certain boundaries obviously. They like that the guy gets so turned on. But interestingly, they are not as concerned with their own pleasure. I’ve loads of friends who never finish, who never orgasm during sex and either don’t expect that or have the confidence to ask for it.
This is really strange to me. I like sex to be equal, but a lot of the sex I hear about from my friends is not equal. The boys are choking girls but the girls are not choking boys. The boys are all having orgasms but loads of the girls aren’t. It doesn’t feel right to me.
It makes me feel like there’s so much time being wasted, you know? Like, this is supposed to be the time of our lives for great sex. It should be fun. And an equal playing field. – RI
Padraig, 23, straight, professional, Dublin
I’m in a relationship. We’d have sex maybe three or four times a week. Less has been more recently because I had a medical issue “down there” that I am trying to sort out.
I talk a little bit to my friends about my sex life but not with my family. Myself and a former partner had some rough experiences with an accidental pregnancy and miscarriage. I did speak to my parents about that at the time.
My communication with my girlfriend is excellent around sex; I’d consider it a mature, serious relationship. I’m into monogamy, but I don’t judge other people who have different arrangements.
One thing that is a big issue for me is pornography. Like a lot of my friends I started watching it when I was maybe 13. During the pandemic I started to consider it an addiction. I’ve drastically reduced the amount I watch but I can’t completely stop, so it’s a problem. It’s the release that I am looking for, but I don’t feel good about it afterwards.
'What I've realised is that a healthy sexual relationship is all about communication'
I’ve had some good conversations about it with my girlfriend – she doesn’t watch porn and it makes her uncomfortable that I do.
I think that’s fair because it’s a form of virtual cheating. I’m struggling with it and trying to stop. So are a good few of my male friends. They say the same thing; it’s a release but afterwards they feel bad.
I have sent and received nude photos. It’s normal. When I think back to my school days, something I feel bad about is not calling out other guys in the WhatsApp groups who were swapping or keeping files of nude photos without the consent of the girls involved.
I am happy with my sex life now. For a long time I just wasn’t good at getting girls off. I wasn’t focusing on them to make that happen. Then one night I had a one-night stand and she told me what she wanted. And I guess, I’d never had that said to me before: someone saying, “hey, you didn’t do this”. That’s not an issue in my relationship now.
I feel really bad because I wasn’t doing it in previous relationships. What I’ve realised is that a healthy sexual relationship is all about communication. – RI
Saoirse, 22, pansexual, student, Cork
Right now I’m going through a bit of a celibacy phase. My sex drive, at the start of the pandemic, shot through the roof as a result of lack of human touch. Since then it’s just waned and waned. I tried seeing a couple of people but even then I was like “I don’t really like you”. The casual sex, for me, it’s just not happening.
At first I felt like I needed to fix it but it’s not something that’s at the top of my priority list right now. Recently, my sex drive has come back. So I would like to change maybe, but I’m not chasing it.
I realised a few years ago that I was bisexual or pansexual – basically I’m not limited in my attractions by either gender identity or biological sex. That clicked when I was about 17. I had already lost my virginity to a girl when I was 15.
I feel less pressure with women. And I think that is because we share the same anatomy and they might just be a bit more clued in. With women, sex is equal. With men, he would dominate more for whatever reason.
'My ideal sex life would be where I feel like I can make a mistake, with someone who's actually mature enough to just try something that might not work'
I think choking during sex has been normalised. Internet culture really glamorised choking for a while; it was kind of a trend. I’ve never really partaken but then again, who am I to judge? But does it paint a good picture? That visual image? I don’t know.
The thing is, we don’t talk about these things. So it’s really hard to know where your own motivations are coming from, why some people are doing this stuff. But then you could say that about the entire spectrum of pain infliction during sex. That goes into judgmental territory.
My ideal sex life would be where I feel like I can make a mistake, with someone who’s actually mature enough to just try something that might not work. I was given out to before for giggling during sex but I was just having fun, I’m more of a light-hearted girl. Ideally, I’d like to feel valued, sexy and not objectified. Sexy, not a sex object. – FC
Joseph, 23, gay, student, Dublin
The pandemic affected my sex life about as much as living with my parents does. I was really trying not to catch Covid and that would have been difficult if I was riding rings around myself. I think the last two years had a profound effect on the sex lives of young people generally.
I’d describe my sex life these days as fun, interesting and constantly evolving. The amount of sex I have varies massively. I’d say in the last year, it’s been around once a month. I’d find it quite difficult to speak about my sexuality, or being gay, with my family. It’s not because they aren’t accepting but I just find that quite challenging.
With my friends I sometimes shock people about how open I am about sex. I normally give every kind of detail and I don’t allow any room for shame. I think Irish people are quite conservative around this. I’ve found people from other countries, especially Germany, they are much more clinical in conversations about sex, which I think is healthy and constructive. We shouldn’t tip-toe around it.
The way most of the gay men I know, younger ones anyway, understand their sexuality and learn about it from an early age is largely through porn. I also learnt a lot from feminist conversations on Tumblr. As I grew up, my sexuality and preferences were massively influenced by porn; they still are today. I like that dominant/submissive role as long as it doesn’t involve them hurting me. I do think choking is enjoyable and it’s quite normal for people my age. The average young person would participate in it, I think.
'An ideal sex life for me is one with no shame, where there is complete consent, where you are entirely comfortable and free from body-related insecurities'
Instinctively, I am interested in monogamous relationships but I’ve never been in one so I can’t say. Having said that it’s idealistic to think you’ll be sexually attracted to the same person for the rest of your life. I think an open relationship is probably more realistic in terms of satiating that primal drive we have for sex. Cheating is happening in epidemic proportions and people are hurt by it, so probably an open relationship makes more sense.
In terms of dating apps I have used Grindr, Hornet, Hinge, Tinder and Bumble. I don’t use them at all anymore. They had quite a negative effect on my mental health. Sexually, there are a lot of things that are out of bounds for me: any sex that involves blood or sh*t, I think that is vile. And anything non-consensual.
Discourse is an interesting term at the moment. In terms of sex “the discourse” is definitely being shaped by social media. I’ve seen identity politics shaping a lot how people, particularly women, think about sex. One thing I’ve noticed is how some women I know have sex to feel validated. I don’t judge them in a harsh way but I think if someone is using sex for validation it’s not healthy.
There is also this idea from third-wave feminism that being promiscuous was somehow empowering when really girls were just appeasing the male gaze. So there are these very young women, from age 14, you see on social media that think having an active sex life is “empowering”. It’s one example of how “the discourse” around sex can lead people astray. An ideal sex life for me is one with no shame, where there is complete consent, where you are entirely comfortable and free from body-related insecurities. – FC
Maeve, 20, straight, student, Dublin
I’m single at the moment and not having a lot of sex. If I wanted to be having sex every week I probably could, but not necessarily with somebody I actually want to have sex with, if you know what I mean.
I’m pretty open about this subject. I talk to my parents – it was my mum who suggested I get an intrauterine device (IUD) – and I’d be talking with my friends about what positions we like and that kind of thing. I’m straight and I’ve never been attracted to girls.
I was sexually assaulted when I was 16. One of the consequences of that is that sex is not a big deal to me. It was a coping mechanism from the assault to make it just not a very important thing, and I still feel that way. When I first started having sex at 17, it was just sex, something that you were meant to do. And as I’ve got older I notice guys tend to have more specific preferences and kinks, or like they want to dominate and be in control.
There is a lot of choking during sex. It’s always the boys choking girls, and a lot of my friends who are girls are into that. It would be pretty standard to be called a slut during sex, and maybe calling the bloke “master” or “boss”. I draw the line when they want to be called daddy. I mean what part of Pornhub are they getting that from?
'I don't think people were talking as much about masturbating 20 years ago. I am glad we can talk about this stuff now'
I tend to have sex with people, nice men I know quite well, and sometimes after sex they would say things like “even though I called you a slut during sex, I want you to know I respect you fully”.
There is also a lot of expectation around all of this, like if a girl won’t do certain things, anal sex for example, she’s called “vanilla” or a prude. That is concerning.
I am not into kink-shaming but sometimes I feel with certain things on TikTok, it makes people feel pressured into things they might not necessarily want to do. There is a lot of non-consensual porn out there, which is worrying, and boys are watching so much porn which doesn’t help.
Another thing I’ve noticed is that most guys don’t want to wear condoms. They say it doesn’t feel as good but I would always insist, especially with a one-night stand.
I am glad there is so much sex positivity out there. Some of my friends would go vibrator shopping together, and I have one friend who on Black Friday told me about this vibrator that she has that was on sale and she was like “buy this, I swear to god it will change your life”.
I don’t think people were talking as much about masturbating 20 years ago. I am glad we can talk about this stuff now. – RI
