I received my first real kiss behind the kickball field at the parish spaghetti dinner. We missed. Fortunately, the second attempt was more successful and I walked out of the spaghetti dinner with the ultimate 7th grade status symbol: a boyfriend.

As is typical in middle school romances, the relationship was mostly talking (and mostly over AIM). I learned about his family and his hobbies. He even confided in me about his porn use. I was naive enough to be surprised, but he quickly explained to me that it was normal, that all boys watched porn. My best friend confirmed this assessment.

“Porn is like breathing to boys,” she assured me. “If they don’t do it, they die.”

I couldn’t very well ask my middle school boyfriend to stop breathing, so I accepted his porn use. Besides, I reasoned, I was a really bad kisser.

Eventually, the boy and I stopped speaking and we broke up. But I had learned something important from this brief relationship: If I wanted to date men, I’d have to learn to live with porn.

How Porn Impacts our Relationships

My middle school innocence didn’t last long. The next relationship was significantly more physical, as was the next one. There were a lot of boyfriends, to be honest. I was never shy about exploring my sexuality. However, the guys and I were never really on the same playing field. I may have gone on a lot of dates as a teenager, but the person I was most interested in was always the person right in front of me.

Meanwhile, I frequently had the impression that I was being compared to someone else: an idealized woman who was not in the room. That woman wasn’t just interested in trying new things – she was an expert in everything related to sex. She wasn’t vocal about her likes and dislikes; she liked everything. She made certain noises and certain movements. She flipped her hair in a certain way. Gradually, I learned to imitate this woman, and the more I did so the happier my partners were. My own satisfaction was less important. I thought I was getting better at sexual encounters, but I was only getting better at playing a part. 

Compared to the young women of today, I had it easy. No one tried to choke me or asked for anal sex, both of which are increasingly common. In fact, 25% of American woman report being scared during sex. It shouldn’t have to be said, but most women do not enjoy being choked. They especially don’t like it when it’s a surprise.

Unfortunately, you’d never know that from watching porn. Despite what we may want to believe, the version of sexuality portrayed in pornography absolutely impacts our real sex lives – and it’s usually women who suffer the consequences.

The Porn Taboo

Imagine you are on a date with someone charming and funny. You’re having a good time, and eventually, he asks you to go home with him. Of course, you know what he’s really asking. You look him in the eye and say, “Before we go any further, could you tell me what kind of porn you watched last week?”

If asking this question seems absurd, invasive, or even laughable to you, ask yourself why. This man is already asking you to join him in the most intimate act two human beings can engage in. Don’t you have a right to know what his expectations are?

Approximately 98% of men and 73% of women watch pornography, yet very few people talk about it. Porn has a dual stigma: watching it is stigmatized, but critiquing it is also stigmatized. The inability to talk openly about porn use means we rarely know what kind of porn our partner is consuming. We may fear sex-shaming or kink-shaming our partners. It’s their private life, after all, and it has nothing to do with us. But the truth is, our partner’s private life has a lot to do with us. There is strong evidence that the porn a person watches impacts their sexual desires, not the other way around. By not discussing porn, we allow it to be the unspoken director of our sexual lives.

It’s Okay to Ask For What You Want

I was already married before I felt comfortable speaking up about my feelings on pornography. It took reconnecting with my faith, gaining confidence in my own worthiness, and finally being with a man I could trust before I realized that I had a right to an opinion. For too long, I had believed that porn was something I had to learn how to live with in a relationship, something I had to accept without question. This is, quite simply, a lie.

My preference is for my partner to avoid porn entirely because, in my experience, sex is better with a person who isn’t watching porn. I feel safer and more confident in a relationship with shared sexual language and shared expectations that arise from our shared bedroom. It’s not because I “can’t compete” with a porn star, it’s because the information she’s sharing is different from the information I want to share. Her message isn’t my message, and her message is really quite loud. It’s completely reasonable for me to ask for what I want.

It’s also reasonable for you to ask for what you want. Despite what society tells us, it’s not controlling to speak up for yourself. So ask your partner directly for what you want, whether it’s less porn use, no porn use, or simply avoiding certain types of porn. Maybe you don’t care, but you should still discuss it.

Porn is not like breathing, and your partner will not die without it. I promise.