I recently spent a weekend in the Hudson Valley with about fifty college students from New York City. The theme of our retreat was sex, and they spent the weekend learning from pastors about God’s design for sex as well as discussing it amongst themselves. I’m proud of them for being as vulnerable as they were and for their willingness to confront this issue head on, when it would be easier to simply live as though it isn’t an issue. We spent a lot of time discussing the overarching narrative for why we believe sex should be restricted to marriage. This is tough to understand because it seems so outdated. I’m still working on my own understanding of it, but one thing that helps me is looking at it from a negative point of view, i.e. observing the sexual habits and attitudes of those who claim no allegiance to God or religion and determining whether they are, in fact, more sexually healthy and fulfilled than I am.

This past fall, New York magazine published a cover story about their Sex Diaries feature (November 2, 2009). This feature was created as a digital peek inside the sexual minds of New Yorkers. Every week, one person is selected by the magazine's editors to chronicle his or her sex life for the week. This can mean sexual acts, thoughts, fantasies, or failures. These diaries are then posted on the website and opened to commentary by readers. This has been going on since early 2007, and apparently has become so popular that the editors felt a more in-depth analysis was warranted. They asked one of their writers, Wesley Yang, to read all 141 diaries and "develop some kind of taxonomy of contemporary sexual anxieties." He then proceeded to outline ten things that he found to be true across the board. What was so fascinating was that it all amounted to one thing: We all want and need the connection that sex affords regardless of how and when we've sought after it. And while Yang says that "virtually everyone under the age of 30 has grown up with their sexuality digitally enhanced," we can't seem to let go of the necessity of person-to-person connection. All of our digital enhancements are attempts to shield ourselves from exposure, and yet we haven't figured out a way to eliminate the need for exposure. No matter how good we get at hiding ourselves, what we really want is to be found, and so we will always be vulnerable. I couldn't help but be deeply saddened at the ways in which the Sex Diarists contorted themselves to avoid the appearance of need. What I hope we can learn from their stories is that living in a culture of sexual freedom has done nothing but alienate us from each other even more. Below, a commentary on Yang's analysis.

1. The anxiety of too much choice.

Yang says that since we are now using cell phones rather than little black books, the possibilities of people we could have sex with at any given moment are virtually endless. Seven or eight different people could potentially be texting you at one time, asking for various sexual encounters. The net of this is "the nagging urge to make each thing we do the single most satisfying thing we could possibly be doing at any moment." But when does that stop? Surely, no matter where we are or who we're with, there is someone else in the world who could provide a more empirically satisfying experience for us. So this embarrassment of riches has served only to make us long for monogamy. If only there were just one person in the world to be with tonight. "In the face of this enormous pressure," says Yang, "many of the Diarists stay home and masturbate." Crisis averted? No, we are not only lonelier than ever, we are also now quite literally alone.

2. The anxiety of making the wrong choice.

The problem with unlimited choice in sexual partners is that you can only be with so many of them at once. Granted, cybersex has made multiple partners a great deal easier, but the human brain can only be doing a certain number of things at one time. That means that there will always be frustration over the incompleteness of any sexual experience, and the regret that perhaps someone else would have met our needs more efficiently. Also, because each of these interactions happen between human beings with different points of view, misunderstandings are inevitable. We wind up putting ourselves out there in ways we never intended simply by allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to so many different people. They aren't all trustworthy. And if they're doing the same thing we are, namely, prowling about for the most mind-blowing sexual experience, the chance is just as good that they will find us to be the wrong choice. Ouch. Monogamous marital sexual relationships are by no means completely satisfying all the time, but if you have committed yourself to one person and refuse to allow anything to hinder that commitment, you can never be the wrong choice for one another. There is great security in that.

3. The anxiety of not being chosen.

This one is almost too easy. Of course, what we all want most in the world is to be chosen. It's a fundamental human need. And just about everything we do is in service of this need. We rarely pursue anything else. All our efforts to be pretty, successful, better than everyone around us, are because we long to be chosen - by whom, we're not sure. It's sad to think that these Sex Diarists, who seem to pride themselves on their lassez-faire approach to sexual activity, really just want what we all want, and perhaps are not so free after all. In fear that they will never be chosen by someone, "everybody is on somebody's back burner, and everybody has a back burner of their own." This is a perversion of the time-honored tradition of having a back-up in the event that you are still single at the age of 40 (I think I used to say 30, but I believe it's time to extend that deadline ...). Now, rather than simply having a back-up husband, we apparently have back-up booty calls as well. The fear of going home alone, going to bed alone, being rejected by the latest conquest, is so intense that there must be someone always waiting in the wings, to whom we can turn when all others have failed and we are in danger of admitting that no one has chosen us that night. The back burner is also where we "confine anyone who might become emotionally dangerous;" that is, anyone for whom we have authentically begun to fall. These people are safer on the back burner because then whatever feelings have come up can't irrevocably connect us to them and leave us vulnerable to them. The irony here is that without that legitimate emotional connection and vulnerability, we will never feel chosen. But opening ourselves up to the choice leaves us in a position to be painfully rejected. It would seem that the needs created by sex do not in fact go away when we attempt to meet them outside of the ways they're designed to be met. These Diarists may feel as though they are uninhibited, but to me they reveal themselves to be every bit as needy as those who restrict themselves, and delusional on top of that.

4. The anxiety of appearing overly enthusiastic.

This one makes me laugh because it is rampant among churchgoing singles, which is the group most likely to reject the Sex Diarist's lifestyle out of hand and pursue the complete opposite approach. It would seem that neither total sexual abstinence nor abject promiscuity protect us from this particular anxiety. I myself have been a victim of it on numerous occasions, and my girlfriends relate: when we are interested in someone, our most knee-jerk reaction seems to be to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and the person of note. The rationale behind this is that if we are interested in this person, said interest will be written all over our faces, and we will give ourselves away. This is the kiss of death - no man wants to be with a woman who reveals herself to be too excited about him. So we flee in the opposite direction. I don't quite think this is the answer, since the outcome is typically the man's never noticing us at all, but the anxiety behind it is very real, and the Sex Diarists seem to be experiencing the exact same thing. Keeping someone on the back burner is a delicate undertaking, because at any moment you might betray your true feelings and scare the person off, thus inciting that feeling of rejection you are so desperately trying to avoid. "Everyone's afraid disarmament won't be mutual." The fear of feeling this pain is what keeps us from emotional vulnerability. The fact that any of us can let our guard down for the time it takes to tell someone we're interested is truly a miracle, because our instinct is to avoid this environment of exposure at all costs. "The goal of any Diarist playing the game, therefore, is to withhold one's own expectations until one understands what is expected by the other party." Unfortunately, this cannot go on forever, if only because we live in an imperfect world and mistakes will eventually be made. Even if you succeed in holding out for the other person's initiation, your response in those first moments may betray "a level of emotional enthusiasm unmatched by the other party." In other words, "meaningless" sex does not appear to protect us from the dangerous prospect of developing legitimate feelings for someone, and not having those feelings returned.

5. The anxiety of appearing delusional.

I will freely admit that I suffer incurably from this particular anxiety. My self-awareness is one of my most-protected traits, and I expend great effort to make it visible to others, so that no one will ever catch me in a blind spot. Yes, I know that I am judgmental, self-righteous, outspoken, stand-offish, defensive. If I know these things about myself, and tell you that I know them, I absolve myself of a certain amount of blame. I can appear a great deal calmer in a confrontation, because you aren't telling me anything I don't know. And most of all, I can avoid the worst of fates: considering myself to be one way, but being regarded by others in quite another way. If I know all my flaws, I never have to be one of those people everyone else looks at and shakes their heads in sadness. See: Glenn Beck, Al Sharpton, Real Housewives of Anywhere. Self-referential people who don't take themselves too seriously at least earn the respect of others for not being deluded about who they are. Self-importance and an inflated sense of one's own goodness are to be avoided at all costs. The Diarists seem to understand this, although it is actually a learned behavior. Yang says that "over the years the journals have become increasingly reflective, with observational riffs and little bits of self-analysis." This is apparently due to the fact that those who comment on the diaries "descend on those oblivious to their own weakness." If we admit our weakness in advance, at least we are somewhat in control of our image. Isn't this true in our personal relationships as well? If we can beat the other person to any criticism they might have of us, we rob them of their ability to define us by our shortcomings. The Sex Diarists, so able to distance themselves emotionally from a sexual conquest, care very deeply about the opinions of anonymous commenters whom they will never meet.

6. The anxiety of appearing overly sincere.

Another side to not wanting to appear delusional or enthusiastic. The last thing the Diarists want is to seem as if they actually care what any of these people (those whom they pursue sexually, those who comment on their diaries) think of them. This is an essential component of the idea of free love. Sex is simply a way to have a good time, no emotional strings attached. It's very important not to come off as concerned about these people or whether they are interested in us beyond one night. In many ways, these diaries are one big middle finger to all those with whom the Diarists interact. "I don't really need you," they are saying. "I did what I came to do and now you're nothing to me." As Yang puts it, the people in the Diarists’ lives are "a means to an end" - sexual satisfaction. This attitude is especially important in the presence of those to whom we do not want to appear overly enthusiastic. This seems to have become an incredibly exhausting game that is not especially fulfilling in the end. After all, without some modicum of sincerity, it is impossible to present yourself to someone as genuinely capable of being in a relationship. These Diarists are trapping themselves in their own loneliness by virtue of their refusal to play by the emotional rules that exist whether acknowledged or not. An especially disturbing observation of Yang's: "This [distance] is particularly true for the female Diarists eager to portray themselves just as capable of using others as any man." Ladies, does it occur to us that we deserve better than that? What a sad thing to have been reduced to mere female Lotharios, in effect saying, "We see what you men do that's hurtful to us. We're going to do the same back to you." I fail to see how any of this leads to sexual satisfaction, much less to healthy relationships.

7. The anxiety of appearing prudish.

I think this might be a uniquely New Yorker problem, or at least a uniquely urbane liberal problem. There is a fascinating insistence in the Sex Diaries that no sexual thought, act, or partnership is out of bounds. This is something too which I can't quite relate, although I'll admit that's at least partially because I'm something of a prude myself (and unafraid of appearing so). Why do we need to prove to ourselves, or to anyone, that we are willing to do anything, sexually speaking? Whose judgment are we afraid of in that situation? Not God's, surely. This is why I say this is a problem unique to those who live in societies that have most assuredly rejected the Biblical model of doing anything (which is not to say there is necessarily more holiness in the places that have not done this). We seem to be expressly concerned with proving ourselves to be as far as humanly possible from that worldview. The interesting thing is that most people who have rejected the idea that there is a God with the prerogative to dictate human behavior claim to thrive on the "to each his own" way of life. The Diarists' unwillingness to seem uncomfortable with any sexual act only proves that they have merely traded one master for another. They don't want to conform to one set of sexual mores, so they have collectively decided to conform to another. Can we ever simply be our own people, without feeling the need to meet some larger standard? This indicates to me that we cannot. This need to appear to have "conquered modesty" is itself a need to please someone other than ourselves, whomever that person might be. A god perhaps? The god of New York sexual conduct?

8. Internet-enabled agoraphobia.

This one is especially easy for me to understand, because I hate being thrown into unfamiliar social situations. I am famous for begging off get-togethers that might involve large numbers of people I don’t already know. This social ineptitude extends to not wanting to interact with people I don’t know ever, including accountants, doctors, and salespeople. The invention of online food ordering has changed my life, and now I exclusively order from restaurants that offer this service. The fact that I don’t have to talk to someone over the phone to get food sent to me is a miracle. So for someone like me, there is something appealing about this new mode of communicating with people online. It creates a safe distance, from which I can present myself as anyone I want the other person to see. Physical flaws are easily hidden, personality flaws glossed over. Most importantly, people become commodities. Because I have no particular personal connection to the person with whom I’m communicating online, I feel no obligation toward them, and I can avoid, to an alarming degree, feeling even the most basic human concern for them. This callousness goes even deeper for those who use the internet as a tool for sexual conquest. Now I am meeting people for whom I care nothing and using them to satisfy me sexually. Even someone as introverted as I am understands the importance of human connection, and it’s disturbing to think where our sexual appetites can go after this.

9. Separation anxiety.

A very important component of most young people’s lives these days is online social networking. Yang notes an interesting consequence of this: “Collecting all of your friends onto a single page, as all social-networking sites do, alters the way you think about experiences. Formerly, you met people, did things with them, and selected a handful to carry forward into later stages of life. Life was a linear sequence of relationships that began and ended.” I can remember this “former” time of managing relationships because Facebook did not exist prior to my last year of college, and so I had no way of quantifying my friends in the way that Facebook allows me to. But the threat of very serious panic resulting from social networking is real. Everyone I know is familiar with the verb “Facebook-stalk,” which is what one does when one has recently become friends with someone on whom one has a crush, or with someone one’s significant other used to date, or any number of other possibilities. The amount of information you can find out about this person via Facebook is really staggering, and yet at the end of the day you don’t know them any better than you did and you have no security in that relationship. This is only more true when Facebook is used to trawl for sexual partners. Do I really want to friend this person so that, months after our one-night stand, he can still be privy to all the details of my other relationships? And does online social networking ultimately relieve any of the stress inherent in relationships? Probably not.

10. The anxiety of being unable to love.

It seems we have come full circle. I could be wrong, but as far as I can tell the prevailing sexual attitude in New York is that I own my sexuality, I can do with it what I please, and propriety be damned. It’s the 21^st century, and I’m a progressive urbanite. This might actually be credible if not for the fact that people STILL aren’t fulfilled. Why, if the best route to sexual satisfaction is total freedom to sleep with whomever whenever, are we still so unsatisfied? Wang calls the Diarists’ desire for love their “most surprising psychological attribute.” Why, after hundreds of generations of human beings, are we still surprised that this is what we need most? As the very wise Freddie Mercury once said, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?” This is what we want and what we are searching for, and no matter how hard we try to be people who claim autonomy, we can’t step outside the way we’ve been designed. Not to oversimplify, but birds cannot swim, no matter how much they want to. People, designed by God for intimacy with Him first and with one other individual of the opposite sex next, cannot find contentment outside of this design. It can’t be done, and if it could, surely one of these Sex Diarists would have found it. So why haven’t they?

Much more could be said, but I’ve already gone on much too long, so let me end by saying this. I acknowledge that plenty of people DO follow God’s design for sex and still wind up unhappy, unfulfilled, and damaged. This is inevitable in a sinful world. Relationships will not be fully healed and whole until Christ returns, and I know that sounds like a cop-out. But the bottom line is that I don’t see people finding health and wholeness in relationships through deviant sexual practices. Frequently I see them not finding it even while following all the “rules,” and I’m as good an example as any of someone who has followed all the rules and still hasn’t found everlasting love. Perhaps it’s a case of the lesser of two evils, for now. But the very same God that designed us to experience sex in a certain way promises that all will be made right in the future, and if you don’t believe that, well, I don’t think anyone could respond better than C.S. Lewis’s Narnia character, Puddleglum:  "Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all of those things. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones."