Very Superstitious: The Sex Rules We Inherited (and Why They Still Hurt Us)

When you believe in things that you don’t understand. Then you suffer…

I’m a Louisiana girl raised by a superstitious dad, so of course on New Year’s Day I cooked my greens and black-eyed peas—because wealth and prosperity don’t just happen, they’re invited. I did, however, draw the line at eating grapes under the table. I have my limits.

Superstition, in my house, was never about being silly. It was about safety, meaning, and trying to make sense of things we didn’t fully understand yet.

Although Stevie was not talking about sex, I cannot help but tie that lyric to how we are taught about sex. 

Rock with me for a min while I make the connection. So many of the messages we carry about sex are just that — sexual superstitions. Rules we inherited, absorbed, and internalized without ever being invited to question them.

Women are taught that liking sex too much is dangerous, unfeminine, or morally suspect. That a “body count” says something about your worth. That pleasure must be earned or punished.

Men are taught that they should always want sex, always be ready, always perform — and never talk about fear, confusion, or vulnerability without being labeled “soft,” “zesty,” or somehow less of a man.

And layered through all of this are rigid ideas about sexuality and gender that fuel homophobia and transphobia — the belief that desire must look one way, bodies must behave one way, and anything outside of that is wrong.

When you believe in things that you don’t understand. Then you suffer…

We suffer through shame.

Through silence.

Through anxiety.

Through performance instead of presence.

Through disconnection from our bodies and from each other.

Many of the “rules” we follow about sex were never designed to help us feel embodied, confident, or connected. They were designed to control behavior — not support humanity.

So, as we move into this new year, here’s a gentle question to sit with:

What sexual belief did you inherit that you’ve never actually chosen?

And what would it feel like to replace superstition with curiosity

As you sit with those questions, this is the work I’m doing at Melanin Sex Therapy. I work with individuals and couples who are ready to challenge sexual superstitions and replace them with education, embodiment, and choice. With language instead of silence. With presence instead of performance. With intention instead of inherited rules.

 If you’re entering this new year feeling curious about your relationship to sex, intimacy, or confidence — that curiosity is worth following. You don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to be willing to understand more than what you were taught.

Superstition ain’t the way

But curiosity just might be.

XOXO,

Aydrelle