sex & wellness & emptiness: a crisis of connection
in the age of self-care, have we forgotten how to touch each other?
tl;dr: we've replaced genuine sexual intimacy with commodified wellness while caught between conservative puritanism and exploitative hypersexualization, leaving us disconnected and alone.
hey mi gente! 👋🏽
i've been thinking a lot lately about sex. or more specifically, the lack of it.
it's weird, right? we live in supposedly the most sexually liberated time in history, yet studies keep showing that people (especially young people) are having less sex than previous generations.
meanwhile, the "wellness" industry has exploded into a $6.3 trillion behemoth, promising us that the path to happiness lies in self-care rather than connection with others.
what's going on here? how did we end up replacing intimacy with jade eggs and morning routines? and more importantly, what are we losing in the process?
the wellness industrial complex
let me paint you a picture: it's 6 a.m. you wake up to your circadian rhythm alarm. you drink celery juice. you sit on the floor and meditate for 20 minutes. you then procced to journal three pages, take eighteen supplements, do a peloton ride, shower with special mushroom-infused soap, and apply seven different serums to your face… all before 8 a.m.
congratulations! you've completed your morning routine. you're now "that girl." you've optimized yourself. you've practiced self-care.
but here's my question: when in this carefully curated life did you make space for actual human connection? for the messy, sweaty, and imperfect? for the vulnerability of allowing another human being to see you without the filters, the routines, the optimization, the mask?
the wellness industry has convinced us that the path to fulfillment lies solely within ourselves. need to feel better? don't reach out to a friend or lover… buy this face mask instead! feeling disconnected? it's not because you need human touch… you just need to optimize your gut microbiome!
this isn't to say that taking care of yourself is bad. dios mío, i love a good face mask as much as the next person. but we've replaced genuine connection with a commodified version of self-reliance that ultimately leaves us hollow.
between puritanism and exploitation
meanwhile, we're caught in a bizarre cultural tug-of-war around sexuality.
on one side, we have a resurgence of conservative puritanism. books are being banned, comprehensive sex education is under attack, and reproductive rights are being rolled back. the far right has weaponized moral panic about sexuality (especially queer sexuality) to further their political agenda.
on the other side, we have the hypersexualization and commodification of... well, everything. from instagram to music videos to advertising, sex sells. but it's a performative, plastic version of sexuality that has little to do with genuine human connection and pleasure.
young people today are looking at both options and saying, "no me jodas." and honestly, can you blame them?
reclaiming intimacy in the age of disconnect
what's particularly heartbreaking is that we're losing touch with one of the most fundamental human experiences: the power of physical intimacy to heal, connect, and bring joy.
sex (good sex, consensual sex, connected sex) is one of the few spaces where we can be fully present with another human being. this is where we can drop the performance, the optimization, the endless striving to be better. we can just be in our bodies, experiencing pleasure and connection.
in a world that's increasingly mediated through screens, where touch has become suspect, where we're told that the solution to our loneliness is more self-care rather than more connection, the radical act might be to turn toward each other rather than inward.
this isn't about returning to some mythical past where sexuality was "simpler" (it never was). it's about finding a way forward that honors both autonomy and connection, that allows for pleasure without exploitation, that makes space for the messy, beautiful reality of human desire.
finding our way back to each other
so where do we go from here?
how do we navigate between the wellness industrial complex, conservative fear-mongering, and exploitative hypersexualization to find genuine connection?
i don't have all the answers (shocking, i know). but i think it starts with asking better questions:
what if wellness included our relationships with others, not just our relationship with ourselves?
what if we talked about sex not just in terms of risk and danger, but also in terms of joy and connection?
what if we challenged both the puritanical notion that sex is shameful AND the capitalist notion that sex is just another commodity?
maybe the revolution isn't just in the streets or at the ballot box. maybe it's also in the bedroom, in the vulnerable space between two bodies, in the radical act of being truly seen by another person.
i'd love to hear your thoughts on this. am i totally off base? have you noticed this trend? how are you finding connection in an increasingly disconnected world?
hasta la próxima, mis amores! 💖✊🏽🌈
p.s. if this resonated with you, please share it with someone who might need to hear it. we're all just trying to figure this shit out together.
p.p.s. for the conservatives clutching their pearls right now: talking about sex doesn't mean i'm "promoting" anything. it means i'm acknowledging a fundamental part of human experience. deal with it. 😘
i think this a great take! to give another perspective on the “puritanicalness” of some of gen z, or at least folks who identify as afab, i’ve noticed those who are queer only abstaining from sex with straight cis het men or being really selective but not from sex entirely, and those who are straight being really selective due to how many young cis het men have bought into right wing ideology, although there are some who have bought into the puritanical vibes, many at least in the left leaning spaces i inhabit have not bought into it, but may look like they have due to being extremely selective or abstaining entirely from sex with cis het men. that being said i think your point still holds true, and there is definitely a “no me jodas” panic of feeling like one must choose between the two extremes going on for gen z afab folks in addition to a re-examination of the girl boss culture many of us were raised on.
Well said. I can definitely see this dynamic in this country. It’s even in the music I feel like. I feel like good love songs hardly exist these days.