On desiring physical intimacy
Can we be vulnerable without being vulgar?
(Cover photo credit - Pinterest)
I recently stumbled on an article here on substack about physical intimacy. A.k.a Sex and the whole shebang.
Disclaimer: To be fair, I genuinely want to believe the writer meant well. I don’t know them nor their full story, so maybe I missed a few dots and commas, and if ever they also “stumble” on this, I stand corrected.
As I was saying, the title pulled me in. It read something that had to do with loving God. But when I clicked on the post and then saw the subtitle, my first instinct was to exit the page. Somehow, I chose to persist, cautiously skimming through the piece.
Somewhere in between the writer expressing their thoughts on “desire and devotion,” I couldn't help but flinch. The problem wasn’t their desire for intimacy. No, not at all. It was the language, the imagery, and the tone at which they expressed that desire. The writing was heavily laden with eroticism. Most of the vocabulary they used are those you’d find in hardcore stuff.
(Their views on sex also concerned me. But I’ll come back to that).
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I shared the post with a friend of mine. We have open, thoughtful conversations around these things, and I honestly just needed some perspective.
She had this to say:
Let me be clear, please.
I’m all for honesty. I’m not a fan of hiding behind “It is well” while real desires fester underneath. I’m a believer in heart-to-heart conversations with God and people of like minds because I know the weight of desire. I’d be lying if I said I didn't feel things, too. Intensely, even. In the past, I've wondered if I had a problem. Seriously. 😂
(I shared a bit of my story in this interview with
on his podcast earlier this month).I’m a believer but I know what it means to… burn. Hence why it was such a relief when I began to understand that because God wired us with those desires, he’s not surprised. He’s not offended. He doesn’t cover His ears when we tell him, “Lord, I want this so badly.”
He is not uncomfortable, or exchanging glances with the angels, saying things like “Is this one even serious at all? How could they be feeling like this? With all the eternal investment?”
In fact, desire is not sinful. Our bodies were designed by God, and wanting intimacy, romance, even sex within the right context doesn’t make you less holy. I daresay, you’re not carnal for naturally longing for a touch that wasn't because you fell under the power of the anointing. Or, craving kisses that differ in intent from the “holy kiss” Apostle Paul described in his epistles. Brethren, it’s not always a spiritual attack. Sometimes it’s just your hormones saying “hello to you, too!” whether or not you can travail in tongues for hours unending.
But when the language used to describe that intimacy (especially to a public audience) starts sounding more like erotica, or soft porn, I think there’s a problem.
When I read that article, and saw the comment section, and how some readers acknowledged the writer for being “real,” I couldn't help but think…Isn't there a way to be vulnerable without being vulgar?
See, God welcomes our desires. It’s okay to say “God, I want to…” or “God, I want to be…” But not every explicit detail is meant for public consumption. I say this not to shame or even question the writer’s belief in God. What makes a person a believer in the first place is not their style of writing. It is their faith in Jesus. Their trust in His finished work and surrender to His Lordship.
However, those of us who share our faith journey through writing, speaking, or otherwise, must understand that not everything “real” is automatically edifying to others. We are called to wisdom. I think we can name our longing, yes, even sexual longing, without dragging our audience through the 18+ visual mud.
Oftentimes, Song of Solomon is the justification for some of these excesses. But while Song of Solomon is poetic, and even sensual, it is NOT erotica. It is about sacred and covenantal love. The metaphors in Song of Solomon are both cultural and symbolic. They're not there to arouse the reader but to paint a picture of love that is whole in spirit, soul and body. Some commentaries even say there are parts of the book that points to Jesus in the original context.
But I digress…
In addition to my thoughts on the article, the writer’s understanding of sex itself was also worrisome. There were parts where they talked about wanting their panties r!pped, being slightly sl@pped across the face, and wanting to be xyz until they pass out.
(*Inserts that audio meme. “God have mercy upon us”).
These narratives about sex is from culture, trauma, and porn. I should know because I was given to a lot of erotic books at some point in my life. Stories that made my pulse race and my imagination run wild. I lived for the thrill. For a long time, they defined what I thought intimacy should look like until the Lord started helping my heart (and still is).
You see, when we don’t heal from these things, they sneak into our devotion. They lace our innocent longing with distorted pictures. In biblical texts, we see that sex, in its God-designed form, is tender, passionate, joyful, and safe. It is not about dominance or pain. God is not calling us into a version of intimacy that mimics harm or disrespect all in the name of being “freaky” or whatever.
This is why healing matters because without it, we can begin to spiritualise what’s actually unprocessed trauma, misguided fantasy, or just cultural nonsense. Even more, we start thinking that the only way to be “honest” about it is to be explicit.
Moreover, there is a more edifying way to be honest about longings without seeming like we're trying to feed the old appetites. Yes, talk to God about your desires. Write about them, if you want. But I encourage everyone doing so to approach it with a kind of honesty that is not void of reverence. God created sex. God is Holy, and therefore, sex, in the way He intends it – is holy.
God understands beyond our words, metaphors or imagery. He knows what you’re really trying to say, even when words fail. However, when we speak or write for others to read, we must guard their hearts, too. How we present the truth about our God-given sexual desires, matter.
We want to let our audience know that even in our longing for all the intense this-and-that, we trust that God is the One who sees us, truly satisfies us, and when the time is right, within the covenant of marriage, He remains the very One whom the act itself will glorify. One flesh. Hallelujah!
Recommended:
🎙️Being a Christian on Substack with Adébọ́lá: Stories of grace, growth and romance.
Hello everyone,
I’m sure someone is wondering, “A newsletter on a non-punlishing day?” LOL! Yes, it was burning in my heart, and it couldn't wait until Friday :)
Did this resonate with you? Please let me know how much it did. I always appreciate the comments. 💛
Yours in Quality time, Adébọ́lá. 🦋
Hm!
I couldn't agree more!
You see, the whole brouhaha about sex these days is disturbing. Not even because of the desire for it (as you rightly pointed out), but because of the views warped around it.
The last two months have had me having deep conversations with people, myself and God about what sex ought to be like. And, it had me realizing that the world's take on intimacy is not for me!
Wo! This matter long!😭😂😂
If I've never been sure about anything in this life, I'm absolutely sure that I want to stay subscribed to God's tenets on intimacy and to live it out with someone who shares this same view!❤️💯
Thank you for this honestly. I was having a conversation with Cassia the other day about how Substack is becoming something else. In the bid to be vulnerable and relatable, people are leaving out discretion.