Chewed up gum, unraveled yarn, a flower stripped of its petals.
Like so many coming of age during the height of the purity culture movement, my introduction to sex was not found in a progressive, comprehensive health curriculum, but rather in pro-abstinence talks with a church youth group and in a sterile health class in Georgia. There, a teacher would meticulously list the topics she was legally barred from discussing, pivoting instead to place heavy emphasis on the dangers of sexually transmitted diseases. I was given vivid, cautionary metaphors—like discarded gum and torn flowers—to illustrate what it would allegedly mean to be a young woman who pursued intimacy outside of the bounds of traditional marriage.
This instruction was part of a sprawling cultural movement of "saving yourself for marriage," heavily popularized by a handful of celebrities and pushed aggressively by evangelical Christian groups such as LifeWay Christian Resources and Focus on the Family. Their primary institutional platform was defining sex strictly as an act reserved for a married man and woman. Along the way, young women in particular were taught to fear their own budding sexuality rather than understanding desire, intimacy, and pleasure as healthy parts of the human experience.
"A lot of cisgender women in America are really at a disadvantage when it comes to being sexually liberated and empowered because they aren’t given the tools as a young person to not only understand their own sexuality, but to advocate for it," says Iman Hariri-Kia, a former sex and relationships editor and author of several titles, including, most recently, Female Fantasy.
Mental health professionals who have closely studied evangelical purity culture have documented alarming increases in cases of anxiety, depression, and sexual dysfunction among those raised under its tenets. Researchers have also frequently highlighted a profound lack of baseline knowledge and language around sex and pleasure. Furthermore, public health studies have concluded that abstinence-only education as a state policy is fundamentally ineffective in preventing teenage pregnancy, with some data suggesting it may actually contribute to higher rates. That systemic failure routinely included the near-complete exclusion of LGBTQ+ representation. Today, the modern resurgence of "tradwife" content and the sprawling "manosphere" praising traditional, hyper-submissive gender roles directly harkens back to the foundational ideologies of that exact purity culture.
While traditional sex education over the past few decades persistently failed to address the realities of pleasure, consent, communication, and mutual desire, romance novels quietly emerged as an informal, alternative education system. Through these pages, readers could explore human sexuality without the crushing weight of institutional shame. Historically, the term "romance novel" has carried baggage, long associated with discount paperbacks, the classic "bodice rippers" featuring the bare chest of an illustrated Fabio, and prolific authors like Jackie Collins and Danielle Steel. Harlequin famously launched as an imprint solely dedicated to these serialized novels, targeting housewives who could easily pick up titles while running errands at their local grocery stores.
"I learned a lot about sex from sneaking my mom’s Danielle Steel books," says Erica Smith, a sex educator who specializes in counseling individuals recovering from purity culture and those leaving high-control religious settings. She is also the author of The Purity Culture Recovery Guide: The Shame-Free Sex Education You Deserve. "Reading about other people having sex in romance novels really taught me what it could be and what it was like."
The overarching genre of the romance novel actually dates back centuries, to the 18th century, carrying forward timeless tales centered around the "happily ever after" trope that would continue to captivate readers for generations. Disparagingly—and more recently, somewhat less disparagingly—referred to as "smut," these titles were often the kinds of books readers kept hidden rather than displaying proudly on a living room bookshelf. Yet, they quietly introduced readers to human anatomy and a specialized sexual vocabulary in a way they might not have ever encountered in school or at home. Unfortunately, they were also frequently rife with toxic relationship dynamics and rigid gender stereotypes.
In the past decade, however, the category has experienced a massive commercial and cultural explosion, driven largely by the digital phenomenon of #BookTok. Today’s market features wildly varying "spice" levels and diverse sub-genres, ranging from regency romance and dark romance to fantasy romance. Several titles have successfully crossed over into mainstream book club sets, including Heated Rivalry, A Court of Thorns and Roses, and Fifty Shades of Grey. The latter famously opened mainstream audiences up to the sprawling world of BDSM, even if it offered a heavily dramatized and flawed interpretation of the real kink scene. The cultural ubiquity of the genre is such that friends regularly swap memorable scenes over cocktails—such as a viral moment from a Meghan Quinn book where the main character eats popcorn directly off the love interest’s body.
"Women have started being so much more loud and proud about their love of romance, utilizing social media and online communities to use word-of-mouth recommendations to drive supply and demand and start to take that power back," says Hariri-Kia.
This booming demand has naturally fueled the rise of romance-specific brick-and-mortar bookstores. Among them is Sincerely Yours, which opened its doors in Atlanta, Georgia, founded by best friends Mallory Gay and Madison Glines. The two entrepreneurs originally bonded over their shared love of fan fiction on Tumblr—a digital landscape that famously launched several successful mainstream publishing sensations, including the Fifty Shades series, After, and The Idea of You.
"We were really into One Direction. That’s how we met in high school; we were like primarily friends over Tumblr before we were friends in person, and we would read and share fan fiction," says Gay. "It kind of felt like an act of rebellion, but it was also sparking so much joy."
Inside Sincerely Yours, the inventory is meticulously organized by romance sub-genres. The shop has successfully cultivated a vibrant in-person community for readers fully embracing the literary universe, hosting dedicated book clubs and craft nights inspired by popular titles. It was precisely at this store that I purchased my first piece of romance fiction: Praise by Sara Cate, selected from the dark romance shelf shortly after hearing about the neighborhood store’s grand opening.
Walking into the welcoming, pastel-hued space, I initially wasn’t sure where to begin, conditioned to judge the titles by their covers after a lifetime of seeing similar books relegated to grocery store aisles and strictly barred from my religious household. I eventually found a book featuring a simple high heel on the cover, its back-cover description diving headfirst into the world of kink I was just then exploring in my adult dating life. The novel’s spicy themes of power dynamics and control felt deeply appealing as someone navigating life after leaving the strict confines of purity culture, and to my relief, I discovered an entire shelf of books exploring similar themes.
"Some people come in, and they say, I want a spicy book. They mean Emily Henry. They mean one or two scenes of emotional intimacy rather than mostly physical. So everyone has a different scale," adds Gay.
Contemporary authors are also carefully reconsidering how they approach sex scenes in their writing, increasingly recognizing the profound significance of how physical intimacy is presented to audiences, particularly younger readers. Modern writers are openly incorporating complex topics such as kink, personal trauma, neurodiversity, and queer relationships into their narratives, placing a heavy, deliberate emphasis on clear communication and active consent.
"It was very important to me that any and all mentions and experiences involving sex be not only empowering from the perspective of the female main character, but also be sort of educational and demonstrative," adds Hariri-Kia. "I really wanted to underline the ability to communicate during sex, to establish consent, a focus and onus on sexual pleasure, female pleasure, female erogenous zones, and the different ways that sex can occur."
For many readers, this literary space provides a private avenue to explore personal interests safely, entirely free from the fear of negative social responses or real-world risks, notes Smith.
"There’s a lot of safety there to be able to engage with sexual stories and fantasy," Smith explains. "Reading romance novels and erotic novels gives you inspiration, makes it feel safe to fantasize, and gives solid information about what you actually do find arousing."
Engaging with this kind of vibrant fantasy life allows individuals to discover desires they may want to pursue in reality, but it can also simply be where the exploration ends. Embracing a literary fantasy does not inherently mean a reader wants to replicate those exact scenarios in their physical life.
"Fantasy is where the thoughts stay… a lot of people think about things that they have no intention of making a reality," she adds.
Plenty of schools, particularly in parts of the country whose legislatures are not bound by conservative restrictions, maintain comprehensive, non-judgmental sex education programs. Yet even in those environments, romance novels continue to serve as a uniquely safe and healthy medium for people of all ages to explore their own boundaries and desires. We have officially arrived at an era where these works of fiction have evolved to become far more than a simple afternoon escape.
