Decolonizing the Language of Sex (Rethinking “Clean,” “Dirty,” and the Words We Inherit)

Language shapes intimacy long before touch happens. The words we are given to describe sex carry values, histories, and judgments, whether we intend them to or not. Many of the sexual terms commonly used today did not emerge as neutral descriptors. They were created through systems that sought to regulate bodies and categorize people into good and bad, pure and impure, worthy and unworthy.

When these words enter our personal lives, they do not simply describe. They instruct. They imply who is allowed to feel desire, who must hide, who is dangerous, who is desirable, who must be fixed, and who is believed to be inherently shameful.

Decolonizing sexual language is not about policing vocabulary or striving for a perfect way of speaking. It is about understanding where our words come from, what they carry, and how they shape our relationships with our bodies and each other. When we become more intentional with language, we create space for consent, honesty, and pleasure that does not depend on judgment or fear.

Decolonizing the language of sex
Phrase to avoid Why it harms Say this instead When to use
“Clean / Dirty” Turns STI status into a moral judgment and isolates people. “My last STI screen was on [date]. Results were [list].” or “I haven’t been tested recently.” Discussing testing history, risk, and care without shame.
“Virgin” Centers purity rules and erases many kinds of firsts. “This is my first time having [oral / anal / penetrative] sex.” or “I haven’t done [act] before.” Sharing experience level or setting expectations about pace and aftercare.
“Exotic” Racializes desire and reduces people to stereotype. Use the person’s self-described identity, or name the concrete need (language, schedule, modesty practices). When identity or culture is relevant to access, safety, or attraction.
“Real man / woman” Invalidates trans and nonbinary people and enforces binaries. Use self-identified terms: man, woman, nonbinary person, trans man, trans woman, etc. Any intake, introductions, or partner conversations.
“Safe sex” (blanket) Suggests one standard and can silence needs and capacity. “Our safer-sex plan includes condoms, dental dams, lube, PrEP/PEP, testing schedule, and check-ins.” Before intimacy or when revisiting agreements.
“Normal sex” Creates a narrow standard and pathologizes difference. “The sex we prefer looks like [describe preferences, boundaries, pacing].” Exploring compatibility and consent.
“STD” “Disease” implies active illness and adds stigma to screening. Use “STI” for discussions of screening, treatment, and education. Healthcare conversations and results.
Use facts and consent language instead of moral labels. These swaps support consent, reduce stigma, and align with our anti-colonial and abolitionist approach to sex therapy.

Where Judgment-Based Sexual Language Comes From

Words like “clean,” “dirty,” “virgin,” “real man,” “promiscuous,” and “normal sex” are often treated as if they are neutral. But they were shaped through colonization, racial hierarchy, purity politics, Christian moral frameworks, heteronormativity, and patriarchal control of sexuality.

For example:

  • Purity culture in many religious systems taught that sexual activity should only occur within rigidly defined relationships and roles. This created the idea that sexuality outside those rules was morally contaminated.

  • Colonial systems imposed a specific set of sexual norms onto cultures that already had their own ways of expressing intimacy, kinship, and gender. These norms framed Indigenous, Black, queer, trans, and non-Western sexualities as deviant or “excessive.”

  • Medical systems historically labeled certain bodies as hypersexual, diseased, or dangerous based on race, gender, and class. This legacy lives on in how some bodies are assumed to be “riskier” or “less clean” than others.

These histories are not abstract. They show up today in the quiet or loud ways people speak about themselves:

  • “I don’t want anyone to think I’m dirty.”

  • “I want to be normal.”

  • “I’m scared to tell my partner I’ve been tested.”

  • “I worry I’m too much.”

  • “I feel broken for wanting this.”

When language carries shame, bodies learn to contract, perform, hide, or disappear. This is not a personal failing. It is the predictable effect of inherited narratives.

Why Rethinking Language Matters for Healing and Pleasure

When we call someone “clean” because they tested negative for STIs, we imply that someone who tested positive is unclean. This suggests that their body is contaminated or morally compromised. It also ignores the reality that many STIs are common, treatable, and often present without symptoms.

Stigma does not prevent transmission. Shame does not protect us. Silence does not create safety.

What supports safety is the ability to speak clearly, without fear of being judged or cast out.

Reframing sexual language is not just about avoiding hurtful words. It is about:

  • Encouraging truthful conversations

  • Reducing the fear of being rejected or shamed

  • Making room for informed choice and consent

  • Allowing desire to emerge without moral surveillance

  • Creating relational cultures where people can show up fully

When we shift the language, we shift what becomes possible between people.

Saying What You Actually Mean, Instead of What You Were Taught to Say

Here are some grounded, practical approaches to clearer language:

If someone says “Are you clean?”
Try:

  • “My last STI screen was on [date]. Here is what was included.”

  • “I have not been tested recently.”

  • “I tested positive for [condition] and I am currently in care.”

If someone uses the word “virgin”:
Try:

  • “This will be my first time having penetrative sex.”

  • “I have not done this act before.”

These alternatives are not more clinical. They are more specific. They describe what is real rather than what is assumed.

Avoid describing people as “exotic,” “promiscuous,” “real man,” or “real woman.”

These terms often:

  • Erase identity

  • Reduce people to stereotypes

  • Dehumanize desire

  • Reinforce binary ideas of gender and worth

Instead:

  • Use the terms and identities people choose for themselves.

  • Describe relationship patterns with clarity (for example, non-monogamous, multiple partners, casual, exploring, partnered).

  • Name what you want or what feels safe, rather than relying on roles.

Avoid using “safe sex” as a blanket phrase.
There is no single universal definition of what “safe” means for everyone. Instead, talk about:

  • Barriers

  • Testing

  • Medication (such as PrEP or PEP)

  • Consent

  • Pacing

  • Aftercare

  • Emotional and nervous system capacity

Safety is something co-created, not declared.

Putting Care into Practice: How to Begin

If talking about sexual history or boundaries feels overwhelming, try slowing down and grounding in curiosity.

Before intimacy, try asking:

  • “What words feel respectful or comfortable for you in sexual conversations?”

  • “How can we check in with each other while we’re together?”

  • “What helps you feel at ease, connected, and able to choose?”

If there is silence or hesitation, treat that as data, not failure. It may mean fear is present, or shame, or uncertainty. The antidote is not pushing. It is patience.

The goal is not perfect communication. The goal is space.

How We Approach This Work at Phoenix Rising Centers

At Phoenix Rising Centers, we hold sexual trauma therapy and sex therapy within an anti-colonial and abolitionist lens. This means we recognize that shame, silence, and fear around sexuality are not random. They are shaped by history, power, and survival.

We do not treat sexual difficulty, pain, numbness, avoidance, or confusion as evidence of something wrong with you. We understand these responses as forms of protection the body learned for a reason.

Healing in this context may look like:

  • Relearning how to listen to the body without forcing it to be different

  • Untangling personal desire from cultural or religious expectations

  • Naming the stories you inherited and choosing which ones you want to keep

  • Slowing down instead of pushing toward performance or “fixing”

  • Rebuilding intimacy at the pace of trust, not urgency

Sex therapy is not about teaching you how to perform intimacy.
It is about creating space to reclaim intimacy from shame, fear, and silence.

If you want to explore this work at your own pace, we are here.


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