As a sex educator, I start every class with a deceptively simple question: “What is sex?” While some expect me to provide a definitive answer, I believe the question itself is more valuable than any single definition.
When I teach, I offer accurate information about sexual health, relationships, and identity, but I never dictate what to do with that knowledge. Students often ask, “Does it count if you have oral sex?” or question whether certain acts qualify as “real sex.” I resist the notion of a “body count” because there’s no inherent value in how much or how little sex someone has had. Beneath their questions, I hear a deeper curiosity: “Could sex be more expansive than I thought?”
What is sex, anyway?
Initially, many students regurgitate mainstream definitions like “a penis going into a vagina” or “intimacy between a man and a woman.” I then prompt them with questions: “What has to happen for something to count as sex?” “Does penetration always have to be part of it?” “Could masturbation be a type of sex?” As opinions emerge, it becomes clear that there is no universally agreed-upon interpretation.
Even concepts like abstinence and virginity lack uniform definitions. Some people abstain from any genital contact except cleaning; others might engage in anal but not vaginal intercourse. This variety is precisely why I avoid any single definition. When students ask if a specific behavior “counts,” I remind them that if it’s consensual and enjoyable, only they can decide.
If there’s no definition, isn’t the word useless?
I understand the discomfort. From a young age, we absorb explicit and implicit messages—often focusing on penis-in-vagina (PIV) penetration between a man and a woman. This becomes a reference point, making it intimidating to create our own understanding. But clinging to a singular definition implies there is a right and wrong way to have sex, which can be unfulfilling or harmful.
If you feel most connected through massage or erotic touch, who says that can’t be sex? Teaching only the dominant view excludes important information, like reducing STI risk for non-PIV sex, and denies people’s expertise over their own bodies.
Dr. Varuna Srinivasan, a physician turned public health expert, uses the term “friction” to describe the tension between personal ideas of sex and societal expectations. Have you ever wanted a sexual experience that doesn’t fit the traditional mold?
What’s another way to think about sex?
Many believe sex must involve orgasm, a partner, or penetration to be valid. While it can include those, it doesn’t have to. Dr. Damon Constantinides, a sex therapist specializing in queer and trans people, advocates a pleasure-centered perspective. This open, less rigid interpretation allows people to decide what sex means to them and discover what they truly enjoy.
Unlike the infamous baseball metaphors (first base, second base, etc.), there doesn’t need to be a specific goal. Just one or more people doing things that feel good is enough. Not all pleasurable experiences are sexual—enjoying a favorite song can be non-sexual leisure—but the pleasure focus helps expand your personal definition.
Srinivasan suggests taking inventory of how you currently care for, use, and love your body. From there, you can identify the sexual pleasure you already experience that lies beyond mainstream definitions.
Isn’t it confusing if everyone has a different understanding?
It may seem overwhelming, but the reality is that sex already exists outside a traditional definition. How we think about sex is as diverse as the human species. Are you sure your definition aligns perfectly with others’? The next time you’re with a friend, sibling, or lover, discuss what constitutes sex—you might be surprised.
Resisting a single definition may seem vague, but that’s intentional. Our relationships and identities come with unique perspectives and values. Learning about differences can strengthen connections. Divergent understandings don’t mean anyone is wrong; they simply reflect different interpretations. This encourages empathy and open communication, helping individuals clarify what they want to experience.
What are the benefits of defining sex on our own terms?
Redefining sex isn’t just for high school students—it can happen at any age. Perhaps you’ve come out as queer, become disabled, or become a new parent. Maybe your current sexual experiences aren’t fulfilling. Individual benefits include more pleasurable, exciting, and aligned sex, along with greater power over your own experience and body.
For many, especially Black women and femmes who have faced a long history of sexual violence and disempowerment, self-definition can be a form of liberation. As Dr. Wendasha Jenkins Hall notes, reclaiming that autonomy is profound.
Ultimately, sex is what you and your partner(s) agree it is. By letting go of rigid definitions, we open ourselves to deeper fulfillment, better communication, and a more inclusive understanding of human intimacy.