Nadia Bokody: Bizarre sex challenge that needs to stop

Sex columnist Nadia Bokody lifts the lid on a disturbing new bedroom craze trending among young people.

I’m going to say something unpopular.

Porn isn’t the problem.

And I argue this while fully acknowledging much of the sexual violence played out on RedTube has made its way into mainstream culture.

We know from research kids are accessing X-rated content as young as age 11 now, and that so-called “rough sex” acts like spitting, choking and slapping are becoming increasingly common among teens, often taking place during their first sexual encounters.

There are also TikTok trends like the hair-pulling challenge – where young men approach women in public and pull their hair without consent while filming the reactions.

One such video in this category, which shows a teen having her ponytail violently yanked from behind without warning, then turning around and smiling suggestively at the camera, has amassed over 18 million views and a million likes on the platform, spawning hundreds of copycats.

An even more compelling indicator of the normalisation of violent sex is the emergence of vanilla-shaming – a practice whereby people who admit to enjoying “regular sex” (read: sex that doesn’t involve any form of kink or aggression and is typically had in a bed) are publicly shamed for being “boring”.

In a post responding to the phenomenon, a young woman pleads with her peers: “Stop shaming vanilla sex. Not everyone needs to be choked, punched in the face, set on fire, then hit by a 1992 Geo Metro in order to come.”

Nadia Bokody has lifted the lid on a disturbing new bedroom craze trending among young people. Picture: Instagram

The sentiment in the comments section reflects a collective sense of pressure among women to engage in rough sex acts to gain acceptance and social credit.

“I don’t get why me wanting someone not to abuse me makes me weird,” one TikTok user commented.

“I just want someone to be kind to me,” agreed a fellow user.

“I’m too traumatised for rough things, I’m scared of violence,” confessed another.

Indeed, fear is becoming an unnervingly expected part of sex for young women. In a 2019 survey published in the Journal Of Sex & Marital Therapy, almost a quarter of female respondents reported having felt scared during a sexual encounter. And another study, which asked nearly 2000 men and women about their comfort levels during sex, found 72 per cent of women experienced moderate or severe pain during anal sex and “large proportions” didn’t inform their partner about it.

“Young women in particular, are enduring and indeed normalising painful sex and going, ‘Oh well, that’s what it’s meant to be’,” senior lecturer in psychology at the University of the Sunshine Coast, Dr Rachael Sharman, told the ABC in a recent interview.

Dr Sharman is one of many academics who argue porn is responsible for the problematic expectations many young women have around sex and the role they play in it – largely one centred around pleasing rather than being pleased, or even feeling safe and comfortable.

The challenge sees young men approach women in public and pull their hair without consent while filming the reactions. Picture: TikTok

It is taking off on Tik Tok. Picture: TikTok

And while there’s no denying our cultural ideas around sex are becoming increasingly pornified, I’d contend pinning the blame on sites like PornHub overlooks the real issue.

If we’re to claim porn is warping the way we conceptualise sex, we have to also believe human beings are incapable of suspending disbelief.

Of course, we know this isn’t true.

No one watches an action movie convinced the lead character’s head actually got blown off, and I don’t think anyone is under the misapprehension Sandra Bullock has a time-travelling letterbox.

Sure, we can experience an array of powerful emotions while watching, but we also know what we’re witnessing isn’t real – it’s skilful special effects packaged into entertainment.

And as someone who’s visited live porn sets, I can actively attest to the fact there’s very little reality in most X-rated content, too.

Actors stop and restart scenes dozens of times at angles designed for visuals, not their own enjoyment. And there are plenty of rest breaks and superficial aids used to create the illusion of the unceasing arousal and sexual performance we see on screen.

The behind-the-scenes version of the finished product is largely awkward, and honestly, pretty unsexy.

But while we’re taught to watch Hollywood rom-coms and action flicks critically – that what we’re viewing is merely a fantasy – few of us ever learn to look at porn in the same way.

An even more compelling indicator of the normalisation of violent sex, is the emergence of vanilla shaming. Picture: TikTok

This isn’t porn’s problem, though.

It’s the fault of a woefully deficient sex education system created around the belief that teaching kids about pleasure promotes promiscuity.

In the National Survey Of Australian Secondary Students And Sexual Health, 79 per cent of kids said they looked to the internet, not their school curriculum, to access education and information about sex.

The same survey also found 47 per cent of year 10 to 12 students are sexually active.

It’s almost as if withholding knowledge about pleasure from kids isn’t preventing them from having sex, only thwarting them from having sex that’s free from fear or risk of bodily harm.

The reality is, until we acknowledge the fact that (whether we like it or not) our kids ARE having sex, and desperately need information about what it should look like, we can expect them to continue to turn to RedTube to fill in the blanks.

And in a world where porn is more accessible than meaningful sex education, and where teens are creating and disseminating their own curriculums via social media platforms like TikTok that allow for never-before-seen levels of virality, we also need to ask ourselves whether censoring pleasure from the dialogue is actually keeping young people safe.

Demonising porn has done little to fix what’s broken in our cultural approach to sex. But talking to our kids and teaching them from a model of sex-positivity just might.

Follow Nadia Bokody on Instagram and YouTube for more sex, relationship and mental health content.