How to Escape Structural Spirals of Violence
The Hidden Struggles of Millennials and our Path to Real Healing
Introduction:
Everywhere I look, I see people — often in their early thirties — describing themselves as “sex-positive.” At first glance, this seems heartening: a sign of freedom, openness, and progress.
But it made me wonder: why does this even need to be emphasized? Isn’t sexuality, by its very nature, something joyful anyway?
Curious, I looked deeper. What I found revealed a far more complex — and painful — truth about freedom, trauma, and the struggle to reconnect with love.
The Promise of “Sex-Positivity” and Its Hidden Shadow
The sex-positive movement seeks to reshape our cultural attitudes toward sexuality, promoting sexual expression as a healthy, natural part of life. It champions personal sovereignty, safer practices, and above all, consensual experiences free from violence or coercion.
At its core, it rests on a simple truth: “Sexuality is an important part of the human experience and deserves respect”(Men’s Health, 2024).
And yet, the very need for this movement suggests that reality is far from healthy when it comes to intimacy. Many people today seem to have no reference for what it means to experience sex in a truly favorable way.
When it Becomes an Excuse for Pain
In some scenes, the language of “sex-positivity” is misused — turned into a shield for manipulation and self-deception.
Instead of fostering connection, it can become an ideology for personal power, promoting behaviours that distort core cultural values and leave emotional devastation in their wake.
The hard truth is: you cannot be truly sex-positive without also being love-positive. And yet many act as though these two aspects of intimacy were in conflict. But real freedom does not come from closing the heart; it comes from opening it.
When we detach physical intimacy from emotional connection, it is often not a free choice, but a survival mechanism. It reveals unresolved trauma — wounds so deep that true connection feels impossible.
This isn’t sovereignty.
It is loneliness disguised as liberation.
A Story Shared and a Pattern Revealed
One acquaintance bravely shared her experience with me:
“The fact that I was sexually abused as a child led to two patterns. I could either get physically involved with people I wasn’t truly interested in, to feel a sense of control or power — or I would withdraw entirely from those I genuinely liked, feeling incapable of connecting my heart to my body during intimacy.”
Others, perhaps less self-aware, sometimes rationalise excessive sexual behaviours under the guise of “openness,” or “liberation from conservative dogma.”
Of course, religious institutions have historically suppressed healthy sexual expression, and the trauma of that repression is real.
But the deeper teachings, at their roots, celebrate life’s pleasures and emphasise mutual respect, joy, and shared love. Sadly, these messages were often distorted under patriarchal systems, just as modern ideals are sometimes twisted today.
Love Without Limits and the Limits Love Demands
True love imposes no limits on exploration or expression.
It welcomes diversity, freedom, and the fullness of experience.
But love also demands responsibility. Freedom must be mutual, and self-respect must be as central as pleasure. In every act, we must honour the dignity of ourselves and others — and recognise the consequences of what we do.
Love must be placed above personal gratification.
Without love, freedom collapses into cruelty.
Without love, pleasure becomes emptiness.
How Trauma Becomes a Cycle
Many destructive attitudes around intimacy originate from childhood trauma — specifically, sexual abuse. When facing unimaginable pain, some survivors unconsciously glorify their experience, convincing themselves it was necessary for growth or maturity.
But it was not.
Enduring injustice is not the same as healing from it. True maturity does not mean tolerating harm — it means refusing to glorify it, in ourselves or in others.
When numbness is mistaken for resilience, when silence is mistaken for strength, the cycle continues. People wounded in childhood may, unknowingly, pass on their pain — not only across generations but across friendships, communities, and relationships.
