I recently had this thought ‘What counts as Sex’ because I was curled up, one quiet evening watching the Thai BL series Khemjira. Episode 8 had just dropped, and the two lead characters finally crossed into intimacy. Not in the way mainstream media often builds “the big moment,” but in a softer, slower way: mutual pleasure through touch, a hand job.
To me, that was sex. A real, intimate act that connected them, built trust, and made vulnerability visible.
But when I went online (Tumblr) to see what others thought, I was struck by how many dismissed it.
That is not sex.
Until there’s penetration, it doesn’t count.
And it made me pause. Why are we so quick to equate sex only with penetration? Why do we strip other forms of intimacy of their meaning? More importantly, what does that say about how we, as women, as queer people, as introverts, as multipotentialites navigating complex lives define our own experiences?
This post is about challenging that definition. It’s about asking what counts as sex and why society insists that sex equals penetration and what happens when we decide it doesn’t.
Why This Conversation Matters
The way we define sex is never neutral. It is shaped by power, culture, religion, and the frameworks handed down to us. Reducing sex to penetration has consequences that ripple far beyond the bedroom.
The Virginity Myth
Virginity is often defined around vaginal penetration. A girl is considered “pure” until a man enters her body. This framing reduces women’s identities to what men do or don’t do with them. It makes a woman’s worth dependent on an act, not her humanity.
If what counts as sex begins and ends with penetration, then purity culture thrives. It keeps control over women’s bodies intact, teaching girls that their worth can be “taken,” instead of reminding them that their worth was never up for negotiation.
The Erasure of Queer Intimacy
If penetration is the only marker of “real sex,” then intimacy between queer partners often gets erased. Hand jobs, oral sex, mutual masturbation, the use of toys, all dismissed as “not real.” This not only invalidates experiences but reinforces heteronormativity.
For many queer couples, intimacy exists outside traditional definitions. Their connection, care, and vulnerability are just as valid. By limiting what counts as sex, society continues to invisibilize them.
Poor Sex Education
In Nigeria, many schools either avoid sex education or reduce it to warnings about abstinence, pregnancy, and disease. Globally, sex-ed often frames sex as “penis in vagina” and leaves out everything else.
When young people grow up with such a narrow view, they become unprepared and misinformed. They don’t learn about consent, emotional intimacy, or the full spectrum of pleasure, just risk.
The Dismissal of Women’s Pleasure
When penetration is centered, other acts that bring pleasure, kissing, touching, oral sex, mutual exploration are treated as lesser. Women’s needs, desires, and definitions of satisfaction are made secondary.
This is why the episode 8 of Khemjira The Series matters. By showing intimacy without penetration, it quietly insists that sex can be defined differently.
How We Got Here
To understand what counts as sex and why penetration dominates that definition, we need to look back.
Cultural and Religious Scripts
Many societies tie sex to marriage and reproduction. Sex is about producing children, so only penile-vaginal penetration “counts.” Anything else is sidelined as sin, play, or deviance.
In deeply religious societies, this framing is further reinforced. Pleasure is often treated with suspicion. Acts that don’t lead to procreation are painted as indulgent, immoral, or dangerous, especially for women.
Medical and Academic Definitions
For decades, even medical and academic texts defined sex in reproductive terms. Anything that couldn’t lead to pregnancy wasn’t “real sex.” This medicalization ignored the lived realities of queer people, asexual people, and anyone whose pleasure didn’t fit the reproductive script.
When we reduce intimacy to anatomy, we lose the emotional, psychological, and spiritual layers of connection that make sex meaningful.
Patriarchal Influence
When men dominate language and narrative, men’s pleasure becomes the default. Sex is measured by erections, penetration, and climax, not by mutual intimacy or satisfaction.
Patriarchy teaches men to be performers and women to be recipients. It also teaches both to see intimacy through a narrow, goal-driven lens. But in truth, what counts as sex should be about connection, not conquest.
Sex Beyond Penetration
So what is sex, if not just penetration?
Sex is intimacy, connection, vulnerability, and pleasure shared between people. It can take many forms, all equally valid:
- Kissing and touching
- Oral sex
- Mutual masturbation
- Use of sex toys
- Anal or vaginal penetration
Each of these acts involves vulnerability, consent, and physical intimacy. Each can be sex. None is “less than” the other.
When we expand what counts as sex, we create room for everyone, queer people, people with disabilities, survivors, and couples whose intimacy looks different.
The Emotional Layer of Sex
Sex isn’t just about bodies. It is about trust, care, and emotional reciprocity. When we reduce it to mechanics, we strip it of humanity.
A slow touch can be more vulnerable than penetration. A shared gaze, more intimate than climax. Sex exists in the moments where two people decide to be seen, without armour.
Pop Culture as a Teacher
Pop culture is one of the most powerful classrooms for intimacy. It teaches us what is normal, what is taboo, what counts.
In Khemjira, intimacy was shown through touch, no penetration, no cinematic climax, just mutual care. This is rare in mainstream dramas, where the story often peaks at the moment of penetration.
By giving us this script, Khemjira normalizes alternative definitions of sex.
Think of other examples:
- African literature, from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie to Akwaeke Emezi, often interrogates love and vulnerability outside rigid binaries.
- Music and visual art constantly push us to rethink desire, intimacy, and connection.
Each of these cultural moments helps us rethink what counts as sex. The more we see different representations, the freer we become to imagine new versions of intimacy.
Silence and Stigma
In Nigeria, these conversations are often meet with silence. Sex is taboo, spoken about in hushed tones or behind closed doors. But silence doesn’t mean absence, it only means misunderstanding thrives.
Myths and Misconceptions
Many young Nigerians believe oral sex or mutual masturbation “don’t count.” They see these acts as safe zones that maintain “purity”, unaware that they can still transmit infections or carry emotional weight.
When society refuses to teach, people learn from whispers and pornography. Both distort reality.
The Invisible Experience
For those intentional Nigerians, the silence is louder. Their intimacy doesn’t fit the their definition, and because the law criminalizes their love, they become invisible in conversations about sex, safety, and consent.
If you struggle with how you see your body, remember this post: How to Overcome the Belief That You Are Ugly and Embrace Self-Acceptance.
Because rethinking what counts as sex also means rethinking how we see ourselves as deserving of love and pleasure.
Who Gets to Define Sex?
At its core, the question what counts as sex is also a question of power: Who gets to decide?
When patriarchal systems dominate, sex is defined in ways that privilege men. Virginity becomes a prize, purity a weapon, and penetration the standard.
But feminist and queer thinkers have long challenged this. They remind us that sex is not just an act, it is a negotiation of consent, pleasure, identity, and equality.
To redefine sex is to reclaim power. It is to say that women’s bodies are not measuring tools for men’s validation. It is to affirm that intimacy doesn’t require penetration to be sacred, pleasurable, or valid.
Why Cares
If you can challenge what counts as sex, you can challenge what counts as success, beauty, ambition, and worth. It is all connected.
By writing about Khemjira and intimacy, we are talking about a drama that talk about how stories shape our lives, how silence shapes shame, and how definitions shape freedom.
A Reflection for You
So, what counts as sex for you?
Do you only see penetration as valid?
Have you dismissed other forms of intimacy because they didn’t fit the cultural script?
How would your understanding of connection shift if you allowed yourself to expand that definition?
Sex doesn’t equal penetration. It never has.
And when we start to name that truth, we free ourselves to imagine intimacy differently, gently, courageously, and on our own terms.
Drop Your Comment
- When you think about intimacy, what moments feel most meaningful to you and do they always involve penetration?
- If you could rewrite the way sex was taught while growing up, what would you include?
- How do you think silence or shame around sex conversations has affected how you see your own body and pleasure?