A few months ago, I found myself at a dinner with a group of women, and the conversation unexpectedly turned to wedding nights and their first experiences with intimacy. In South Asian society, topics like sex and physical closeness are rarely discussed, so this was a surprising moment for me. As the youngest and only unmarried person at the table, there was an unspoken assumption that I’d remain silent. But what really struck me was when one of the women casually shared how, until her wedding night, she knew nothing about sex. When she asked her mother what to expect, her mother told her, “Just do whatever your husband says.” She was only 16 at the time.
The group laughed, treating the story as a funny memory. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it later. Why didn’t anyone see how frightening that must have been for a young girl? Why didn’t anyone express concern for the lack of control she had over her own body? In South Asian cultures, “good girls” aren’t supposed to ask questions about sex or want to learn more about it. At the same time, however, women are constantly viewed through a sexualized lens—facing shame about their bodies, clothing, and menstruation. All of this, while being denied the chance to understand or explore their own sexuality.
Someone Expert that advocates for mental health in South Asia, explains that women in South Asian cultures are often forced into categories of being “good” or “bad,” both of which are defined by their sexuality. “Our sexuality is policed to make sure we conform to the ‘good South Asian woman’ identity,” she explains. This control manifests in strict taboos like “you mustn’t have sex before marriage,” “you mustn’t gain weight,” and “you mustn’t wear revealing clothes.”
This suppression of sexuality is reinforced by gender roles and stereotypes present in South Asian culture. From media to family expectations, women are constantly told that their bodies don’t belong to them. When everything in society tells you that your body is not your own, it becomes difficult to redefine your understanding of yourself.
A woman, who advocates for diversity, points out that media alone won’t dismantle the cultural structures that control women’s bodies. “The stigma around sexuality is more than just about sex; it’s about control. Women’s bodies are constantly being commodified or controlled by society,” she says.
In India’s most impoverished and crisis-stricken areas, economic pressures and climate crises push families to marry off their daughters at a young age. Reetika Subramanian, the founder of *Climate Brides*, has been studying the links between early marriage and climate change in South Asia. Her research shows that many women in India’s drought-ridden Marathwada region undergo hysterectomies as young as 25. In these communities, women work up to 20 hours a day in agriculture, often facing insecure conditions and sexual violence. Parents see marriage as a way to avoid worrying about their daughters’ sexuality, but it often leads to lifelong health problems.
Healthcare access is another challenge, especially in rural areas where medical facilities are few and far between. Women rarely have the freedom to travel far for care. Gynecological visits, when they happen, are typically limited to pregnancy. For unmarried women, it’s even harder to access healthcare without facing judgment or dismissal. One young woman shared her experience of visiting a gynecologist for a possible infection, only to be told, “You can’t have an infection—you’re not married.”
A sexual health educator and founder of *Sexual Health for Muslims*, notes that healthcare professionals in South Asia often carry biases, particularly when it comes to sexual and reproductive health. She emphasizes that women are frequently diagnosed with conditions like PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder), PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome), or vaginismus later in life because they lack the language and education to discuss their bodies. “Without the right knowledge, women don’t know how to talk about their bodies, and not having the words only adds to the shame.”
The impact of these stigmas goes beyond physical health. Many South Asian women experience depression and anxiety related to body image and low self-esteem. Experts believes this is because women are raised to view their bodies through the lens of control rather than ownership.
Family expectations play a huge role in reinforcing these harmful narratives. Ayesha aimed at breaking taboos around sex, explains that understanding cultural contexts is critical to change. “People in South Asia can’t just cut ties with their families, so we need to find ways to care for women that are rooted in their cultural realities,” she says.
One key to overcoming these barriers is to create culturally relevant sex education that’s both accessible and supportive. Platforms like *Agents of Ishq* are trying to do just that by sharing personal stories about sexual experiences. By showcasing a variety of narratives, the platform allows people to see they aren’t alone in their experiences, which helps reduce the sense of shame.
Breaking these long-standing taboos requires more than just community initiatives. It demands social, political, and individual action. While families and communities are part of the problem, they can also be part of the solution. As Subramanian notes, primary healthcare centers can play a crucial role by engaging families and communities in more meaningful discussions about women’s health and sexuality.
Ultimately, this is about more than opening up discussions on sex. It’s about giving women the agency to reclaim their bodies and identities. It’s about a radical shift that empowers women to take control of their own narratives. The time for that change is now.
