The digital porn generation and the post-porn era

What did they teach us about sex? Who showed us what we longed to understand in our effervescent adolescence, when taboo silenced all questions? Where did we first see sexual scenes, and how many stereotypes, ideologies, and gender roles were we unconsciously internalizing?

By Mila Soto Iacopetti

People born between the mid-eighties and the late nineties are part of the first generation to learn about sex from a screen. They reached adolescence alongside the internet, when pornography went from being clandestine content to unlimited, free, and available 24/7.
We learned about desire through images that had no smell, no doubts, and no permission. First came the late-night TV channels; then, downloads; and finally, websites where everything was just a click away.
A type of heterosexual sex, repetitive and orderly: young, thin, hairless bodies; confident men, available women; clean penetrations, rehearsed moans, predictable endings.
This early exposure became a form of sex education, almost always the only one. But pornography doesn't just show bodies: it teaches scripts. It defines what is considered arousing, who takes the initiative, which gestures are acceptable and which are superfluous. In this model, desire is confused with performance, communication disappears, and pleasure becomes a demonstration. And, even worse, violence against women is normalized, as if roughness and brutality were synonymous with passion.
Over time, those scripts seeped into reality. In bed, people unknowingly repeat the same scenes they saw on screen. And that's when the real body doesn't respond the same way, and frustration sets in: the feeling of not being enough, of not desiring or becoming aroused "as it should," and of accepting practices that often leave physical or emotional scars.

The feminist uprising and the change of script

The fourth wave of feminism shook up the sexuality of people with vulvas. Debates began, inequalities were brought to light, and something that seemed obvious but wasn't was finally addressed: personal pleasure.
Then technology began to work in our favor. Social media filled with more diverse bodies, with all the nuances of the skin we inhabit. Discourses on desire, consent, and self-care emerged. People dared to say, "I don't want to keep pretending," and there was a sense of relief in the resonance of an entire community subjected to following dictates of a pleasure that wasn't theirs.
The focus was no longer on the penis or penetration—as in every video. Lilith reemerged to set boundaries, and with her, sex education for vulvas: illustrations of the clitoris, workshops, projects, conversations. We stopped calling the whole thing "vagina" and started naming what we actually have and feel.
Learning to desire also meant relearning how to touch ourselves, how to identify what we don't like and how to ask for what we do. Because yes, this is the generation that grew up with porn as the standard for sexuality, but also the one that decided to break free from what was imposed and create new representations—freer, more honest, more relatable.
Pornography is to sexuality what Disney is to romantic love: an illusory framework of representation in which women lose out and all dissent is rendered invisible.

The expansion of post-porn

From this transformation emerged projects that seek to portray sex realistically: diverse, awkward bodies, full of desire and tenderness. Scenes with wonderful, human people, where pleasure depends not on perfection, but on connection and consent.
In post-porn, the fundamental change isn't just in who appears, but in how they are viewed. What sets it apart from mainstream porn is precisely that: consent and care.
That's why more and more directors and creators are choosing to showcase the Vulvarnés as a necessary device: a tool that allows for pleasure and protection at the same time, and that opens up conversations about sexual health and conscious practice.

Vulvarnes in the post-porn era

- Year 2023: Chechu from MyBadReputation

Chechu teaches by showing and explaining based on real-life experiences. Her work is very beneficial for people with vulvas and their relationships.
This is his video about Vulvarnés.

- Year 2025: Knots of self (MAGMA & NAD by Laura Ropes)

A video about domination and submission
ANOmalie is a queer collective dedicated to sexual education, which expands representation through diverse content and creates sex-positive spaces to meet, share and celebrate.