Unlearning Church Rules on Sex & Sensuality

For many raised in the church, the message was clear: sex is sacred, reserved for marriage, and best kept quiet. But what happens when you reach that sacred destination and find that enjoying intimacy still feels taboo? This piece explores the journey of unlearning restrictive church teachings about sex and sensuality, and reclaiming pleasure as a vital part of faith and self.

From Aspiration to Disruption: Visible Christian Intimacy

The author recalls watching Erica Campbell’s wedding as a teenager, seeing her as the epitome of a “saved Black woman doing things the right way.” Over time, Campbell’s openness about her active sex life with her husband, her embrace of her curves, and her sensuality have been disruptive. For those raised in similar environments, this candidness challenges the ingrained notion that faith and open enjoyment of sexuality are incompatible.

Millennials often lacked visible examples of Christian couples who openly enjoyed their intimacy while remaining deeply faithful. Couples like KevOnStage and Melissa Fredericks, or younger pairs like Jayla and Tony Henry, are now expanding this visibility by speaking candidly about attraction, sex, and the effort required to maintain connection. This provides a glimpse into a reality often left unspoken.

The Legacy of Purity Culture

Growing up, the messaging around sex was often about avoidance and suppression, not about understanding desire as something sacred or connected to worship. Even seemingly subtle acknowledgments, like T.D. Jakes’ ‘Sacred Love Songs’ CD, existed in a realm of hushed knowledge, reinforcing that intimacy should remain tucked away.

The author recounts a high school sermon titled “The Best Sex of Your Life,” which offered a clarifying perspective: sex within marriage, free from shame and fear, would be the most fulfilling. This contrasted sharply with the prevailing message that sex was simply something to be avoided and that one’s body needed to be managed, often with the male gaze in mind. Verses about modesty were frequently used to police women’s bodies, often misconstrued from their original context addressing wealth and status.

Reclaiming Agency and Pleasure

LuzCelenia Arce describes how ‘sexy’ was often treated as a threat within Christian circles, both to male purity and women’s own. This indoctrination can lead to struggles with self-esteem and a disconnect from one’s body. The theology often centered male pleasure, leaving women unsure of their own needs and desires, or believing sex ends when their partner’s does.

Arce points out that this doctrine also impacts men, teaching them that women’s bodies are triggers for inevitable urges, rather than fostering responsibility for their own gaze. This creates a confusing dynamic where sexual women are deemed immoral, yet the “good” Christian wife is expected to be un-sexual. Many were taught premarital sex was sinful, a framing challenged by scholars who note the original text may refer to prostitution rather than consensual premarital intimacy.

The author’s own journey, marked by divorce, led to a process of deprogramming, decentering the male gaze, and decolonizing her thinking. Reclaiming her sensuality began with simple acts, like taking boudoir photos for herself, realizing she could feel sexy without needing an audience. This personal redefinition of ‘sexy’ involves embracing her body’s legacy, honoring her desires, and experiencing pleasure without shame.

Ultimately, the piece argues that if the church encourages waiting for marriage, it must also prepare individuals for the intimacy that follows. This includes teaching self-awareness, embracing sexuality, and fostering mutual responsibility rather than solely enforcing restraint. True healing, Arce suggests, begins with coming back into one’s own body.