I’ve been thinking about something this morning and the more I think about it, the more uncomfortable and vexed I become with the entire idea of purity culture, particularly the way it is communicated and enforced within our society.

Growing up in Nigeria, it is almost impossible to escape conversations about sexual purity, especially as a woman. Whether in church, family gatherings or the general social environment, there seems to be an unspoken agreement about what is expected of a woman and how she should conduct herself sexually. Preserve your virginity. Keep yourself. Remain modest. Don’t give your body away. Save yourself for your husband.

Interestingly, these expectations are often presented as moral instructions, religious obligations and even investments in a woman’s future marriage.

And in some religions (I wouldn’t want to mention names 🙄😒) despite their theological differences, have teachings concerning sexual morality and chastity. However, what deserves closer examination is how they are interpreted, communicated and disproportionately imposed on women.

Because somewhere along the line, sexual purity has become less about mutual responsibility and more about regulating women’s bodies.

And I find that particularly troubling. In many religious and social environments, women are constantly reminded of the importance of preserving their virginity. Their sexual history is scrutinised, their modesty is monitored, and their decisions concerning their bodies are often treated as reflections of their moral character. A woman’s virginity can become a bargaining point in discussions about marriage, respectability and her perceived suitability as a wife.

But I cannot help asking: where is this same intensity when it comes to men?

Why is a woman’s sexual restraint so frequently treated as an achievement, while a man’s sexual experience is sometimes overlooked, excused or even regarded as something to be expected? Why do we have environments where young girls are constantly warned against sexual temptation, yet boys are not always subjected to the same level of scrutiny and accountability?

If sexual discipline is a moral responsibility, why should it be a predominantly female burden?

This is one of the contradictions that makes purity culture particularly problematic. It creates an environment where women are expected to exercise restraint, sometimes even in anticipation of marriage, while men are not necessarily held to equivalent standards.

And then comes the part that I find even more interesting: MARRIAGE.

Imagine a woman who has spent 18,  her 20’s or even 30 years being told to preserve her sexuality for marriage. She has been taught that sexual intimacy outside marriage is unacceptable, that her body should be reserved for her husband and that abstinence is something she should take pride in.

Eventually, she gets married and the expectations surrounding her sexuality change. The same intimacy she was previously instructed to abstain from now becomes an expected part of her marital responsibilities. She is expected to understand her husband’s sexual needs, navigate intimacy, maintain a healthy sexual relationship and, in some circumstances, satisfy him whenever he desires it.

But how much attention was given to preparing her for this transition? Who taught her about her own body? Who explained sexual compatibility, libido differences, communication, mutual pleasure and the importance of consent? Who discussed the possibility that two people could love each other, get married and still have different sexual expectations?

Who explained that sexual intimacy is not simply something a woman provides to her husband but something two people should willingly participate in and enjoy?

We seem to have become very comfortable teaching women what not to do with their sexuality, but considerably less comfortable educating them about understanding and navigating it.

And this is where I believe we need to question the effectiveness of the conversations surrounding purity. 

ABSTINENCE IS NOT SEXUAL EDUCATION.

Teaching someone to wait until marriage does not automatically equip them with the knowledge required to navigate sexual intimacy within marriage. A person can remain sexually abstinent and still understand their body, reproductive health, consent, intimacy, boundaries and sexual wellbeing.

In fact, if religious institutions and families are genuinely concerned about preparing young people for healthy marriages, then sexual education should not be treated as an unnecessary conversation simply because abstinence is being encouraged.

There is also the question of unequal sexual experience. It is not unusual to find situations where women who have been encouraged to remain virgins until marriage end up marrying men who have had previous sexual experiences. There is nothing inherently wrong with either person’s history, but it raises an important question about the expectations placed on both individuals.

A woman may enter marriage with little or no sexual experience, while her husband may have considerably more. Yet, despite this difference, she may still be expected to understand his needs, meet his expectations and adjust to a sexual relationship she has spent years being told to avoid. And when difficulties arise, who is often expected to make things work?

Sometimes, the advice given to women experiencing marital difficulties is simply to try harder to satisfy their husbands. They are encouraged to be more accommodating, more available and more attentive to their husbands’ sexual needs.

But what about the woman’s experience? What about her satisfaction, desire and emotional wellbeing? What about a husband learning his wife’s body, understanding her needs and making the same effort to build a mutually fulfilling relationship?

Why does the conversation so frequently revolve around what a woman should do to keep her husband sexually satisfied?

This is particularly concerning when we consider how marital sexual expectations can sometimes be used to justify male infidelity or place the responsibility for a man’s sexual behaviour on his wife.

A husband cheating because his wife supposedly does not satisfy him is not an argument that should automatically be accepted as a reasonable explanation. Differences in libido are real, sexual incompatibility can happen, and couples may experience difficulties navigating intimacy. But these are issues that require communication and mutual effort, not the convenient blame to one partner.

Perhaps this is where the influence of patriarchy becomes particularly visible. Patriarchy has historically found ways to regulate women’s sexuality while creating room for men to exercise theirs with considerably less scrutiny. It places enormous importance on female virginity, modesty and sexual restraint, often connecting these qualities to a woman’s worth and suitability for marriage.

In some communities, a woman’s sexuality is treated almost as though it belongs to her family before marriage and her husband afterwards. Her choices become subjects of public discussion, religious instruction and social judgement.

I also think we need to reconsider the way purity is connected to a woman’s value. A woman’s worth does not increase because she is a virgin, just as it does not diminish because she has had previous sexual experiences. Her suitability for marriage should not be determined by her sexual history, and her body should not be treated as a reward she must preserve for a future husband.

There is nothing inherently wrong with choosing abstinence. There is nothing wrong with wanting to wait until marriage because of one’s faith, personal convictions or understanding of intimacy. That decision deserves respect.

But there is a difference between encouraging people to make informed decisions about their sexuality and creating a culture where women are made to feel that their bodies, reputation and futures depend on maintaining a particular sexual status before marriage.

If we are going to prepare people for marriage, let us prepare both men and women for the emotional, physical and sexual responsibilities that come with it. And let us stop treating a woman’s sexuality as something that exists primarily for the satisfaction, approval or ownership of a man.

Thank you. 😑