From Cringe to Crucial

James sat stiffly in his chair, 28 pairs of eyes staring at him. The fabric of his trousers pinched his groin uncomfortably, but there was no way he was adjusting himself, not here, not now. He was teaching a sex-ed class, his worst nightmare.

If they’d told him during his uni course that this was part of the job, he might have quit right then and gone back to bar work. But here he was, standing in front of a class of teenagers, armed with a lesson plan written by Dave, who conveniently didn’t have to deliver it himself.

The plan was simple: read out different scenarios and let the students vote on whether they were healthy or unhealthy. Easy, right?

James took a steadying breath and read from his sheet.

“A couple have been dating for a few months. They’ve talked about having sex. They go to a party and both have a few drinks, but he’s had more than her - he’s very drunk. They start to get intimate. Would it be healthy or unhealthy to have full sex?”

He’d imagined the worst-case scenario being a painfully silent room, leaving him to stretch four flimsy case studies over an hour. But he was wrong. The class erupted.

“Sir, it depends where they are... are they still at the party? ‘Cause that’s kinda awkward.”
“Of course he wants it. Surprised he’s waited months!”
“You’re such an idiot, Stu. If he’s that drunk, he might not even remember, what if it’s his first time?”
“Just because you haven’t done it, Ava, doesn’t mean everyone else hasn’t.”
“Sir, have they got, you know... condoms?”
“What if they just mess around, but he doesn’t put it in?”
“Eee, maybe he wouldn’t be able to get it up!”

The girl who said it turned from her friend and locked eyes with James. “Sir, how many drinks before men can’t get it up?”

James didn’t need to check his Apple Watch to know his heart rate had spiked. Jess, the girl who had asked, held his gaze. “Well, sir? Don’t you know?”

His brain scrambled for an answer. He couldn’t just say no, he was supposed to educate. But he couldn’t just say yes either, because that implied personal knowledge. And 28 teenagers didn’t need to know that after ten pints, he wouldn’t be getting it up.

“Well, Jess, as I’m sure you know, alcohol affects everyone differently. But if someone is struggling to walk, they’d probably struggle to have sex.”

Jess smirked. “Good to know, sir.” Did she just wink?

James hurried on. “Right. Let’s think about the key issues around consent. Check your worksheet…”

The Problem with Sex Education

I’ve been reflecting a lot on the way we approach sex education.

Young people today are exposed to an overwhelming mix of media messages about sex and intimacy; often unrealistic, performative, or sensationalised. Meanwhile, what they receive in schools is often limited, awkward, or absent, particularly in religious schools, where certain topics are off-limits.

At the very least, we assume they’ll learn the biology of heteronormative, penetrative sex in science class. But what else do they need?

I suggest that three key pillars should be at the heart of sex education from an early age:

1. Self-Awareness

• Understanding your own body - what feels good, what doesn’t, what safety and boundaries feel like.

• Knowing that boundaries can change depending on the situation, and that’s okay.

• This often starts with small acts of self-care: brushing your hair, applying body lotion, even masturbation, rarely mentioned in school sex ed, yet fundamental to understanding pleasure and bodily autonomy.

2. Communication

• At a minimum, the ability to communicate yes and no clearly, verbally or non-verbally.

• Beyond that, being able to discuss desires, boundaries, and comfort levels.

• Many young people don’t even have the language to describe their bodies, let alone their needs. Using accurate terms for body parts and intimate acts in education helps normalise these conversations.

3. Consent & Safety

• Enthusiastic consent should be the gold standard, not just a passive yes, but an engaged, willing, and ongoing hell yes.

• Some people will never have penis in vagina sex so it is important to normalise and explore intimacy in all it’s varied forms. Consent therefore applies not just to penetrative sex, but to all intimate and non-intimate interactions.

• Teaching kids from an early age that they can say no - whether it’s to a hug from a relative, rough play with a friend, or sexual advances as a teen.

• Reinforcing that consent is revocable at any time, you can change your mind, pause, or set new boundaries at any moment.

At the core of all of this is our ability to talk about sex. If adults are uncomfortable, uneasy, and awkward, that’s exactly what we’re passing down to the next generation. We’re teaching them that intimacy is something to be ashamed of, something we don’t discuss.

But here’s the bigger question: What are we doing to support the adults who grew up in a completely different sex education climate?

My generation had a minimal sex education. Embarrassed teachers wheeled in the TV (a sentence that ages me immediately), played that bizarre illustrated video, then hid in the biology office. The focus? Don’t get pregnant. Don’t get chlamydia. Sex was taught through fear.

Meanwhile, the media of our youth was hyper-sexualised; pop videos, misogynistic lyrics, the constant message that sex sells.

Now, the world has changed. Social media has expanded. We are more accepting of different lifestyles, we have the language to discuss affection, arousal, safety and consent within these different frameworks. However, young people are also exposed to unhealthy and very varied relationships and sexual practices, this exposure often starts early and from a place of shock to gain views rather than teaching positive practice.

Young people have more questions, more concerns, and a far wider range of experiences.

So how do we support the adults who are expected to guide them?

We need to help them first get comfortable with their thoughts and feelings around sex and intimacy. Because only then can they educate young people with confidence, clarity, and without shame.

At the core of all of this is our ability to talk about sex. If we - teachers, parents, professionals - are awkward, uneasy, and uncomfortable, that’s exactly what we pass down.

And that’s a lesson that lasts far beyond the classroom.

If you would like to learn more about working therapeutically with young adults, please check out my upcoming book: preorder now.