It’s rough out here.
As a 22-year-old member of Gen Z, I wasn’t surprised by a new study from The Kinsey Institute saying that my generation isn’t having sex.
The study claims that it’s mostly financial anxiety responsible for our collective dry spell — 43% said financial concerns made it harder to date or maintain romantic relationships.
But it’s not quite that cut and dried.
The reality is that while many Gen Z members would love to be getting it on, we just can’t get past some of the considerable consequences.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Shows like Sex and the City, that we still binge — and our older friends and co-workers — regale us with wild tales of nights out that end up with a happy ending.
But now that we’re here it feels like a fantasy.
Our (frugal, because we’re poor) outings start with a group of friends, and end that way, too. For our generation, we’re still asking, Will sexcapades ever happen after a wild night out?
According to the Kinsey Institute, the answer is “nope.” The storied sex foundation surveyed 2,373 U.S. adults aged 18–29 to understand how young adults are navigating sex, dating and relationships today.
The key takeaway wasn’t exactly a shocker: Most young adults report low levels of sexual activity overall. The survey found 29% had zero partners in the last 3 months, while 19% have never had a sexual partner at all.
But only 18% of study participants reported being “unsatisfied” with their sex lives, even though the majority of young people surveyed would happily jump at the chance to jump in bed with a Jacob Elordi lookalike, saying their sex drives are “moderate to high.”
What’s stopping Gen Z from getting X rated?
Reporting from the front line, I can tell you that the deterrent is different for everyone.
Some fear having intimate details shared in a fraternity or sorority alumni chat with literally hundreds of people.
Others want an emotional connection first, but don’t know how to find it when people seem to be less flirtatious in person, even if their digital “selves” are downright spicy.
And others simply don’t care. There’s less taboo around masturbation and self-pleasure, so people are content with going home rather than risking the social suicide of rejection.
According to interviews I did, Gen Z would prefer to have phone sex or send nude photos over text to fill our desire quota. We grew up with the instant gratification of the Internet, after all.
Kyle Ramsingh, a 22-year-old from Queens, told The Post, “My friends find pleasure over the phone rather than physical intimacy. It’s easy, and there’s really no commitment because the chances aren’t high that you’ll ever meet that person… I don’t want to say Gen Z is taking the easy way out, but it’s more of a virtual approach to intimacy.”
Ramsingh suspects that the constant validation from Instagram likes, TikTok duets, and Twitch shoutouts might replace the once-thrilling high of being told you look great in your underwear.
“Once we get the slightest amount of a dopamine high, we’ll be content with pretty much anything we do—like seeing friends, going on vacation, or buying an $8 coffee to replace sex.”
Then there’s all the “advice” on social media that’s more useless than a Metrocard from 2025. With a million different social rules being projected onto us all at once, it’s no wonder we’ve all collectively taken a backseat.
Today, the current term to describe being desperate is “down bad” — and although Gen Z is certainly horny, we’re not willing to risk it for that kind of label, especially when our peers are photographing and videoing everything.
For us, shame is not a new feeling; it’s only amplified because we grew up with porn telling us the ‘right’ way to have sex, with gossip being instantaneous, and with the fear of looking desperate becoming a TikTok trend instead of a momentary lapse in coolness.
A 22-year-old Gen Zer from New York City told The Post that her main deterrent from sex was the fear of becoming a screenshot in a group chat.
“Social media and reputation now make private information spread so fast,” she told The Post. “Screenshots, private messages and gossip can reach an entire social circle almost immediately, which made me hesitant about sex before my relationship.”
She said that dating apps have confused her about how to “seek out” sex. While the apps make it easier to find physical intimacy, it’s tough to tell which meet-ups are for hook-ups and which are meant to begin a real relationship.
That IRL confusion is awkward enough to make them want to avoid it entirely, even when apps like Hinge let people say they’re looking for something “casual.” How casual? Many of us can’t tell.
There’s also the issue of bragging about sex online — even if you’re not actually having it.
“I have a friend who is an influencer and publicly created content offering women advice on improving their sex lives,” my 22-year-old friend told The Post. “A few weeks later, she privately told me that her own sex life was struggling, and that she no longer felt connected to her partner.”
Still, some sexless Gen Z members are optimistic.
A 23-year-old recent graduate in Washington, D.C. told The Post that maybe there’s a “dip” in her love life, but she doesn’t think it’ll last.
“I think right now, we are able to replace companionship in the digital world, but it will be an ebb and flow. People will go back to having more sex, especially because the replacements for sex aren’t complete replacements—they only replace certain aspects,” she told The Post.
“I don’t want to be sleeping with people aimlessly and raising my body count—I don’t care what other people’s body counts are—but mine personally grosses me out and I wish I could take back the majority of them,” she shared with The Post. “I think after having sex with someone I love, there is a lot more on my mind now.”
And when asked if she is fine without sex, she told The Post, “Flirting at the bar and using my vibrator is good enough for me.”
