Study Links Gen Z Abstinence to Consent Awareness

Jacqueline LeKachman chose to abstain from sex for two years following a distressing encounter at age 22. The experience involved a man she met in Manhattan, where she felt unable to refuse despite lacking desire. This period of celibacy became a journey of understanding consent, sexual compliance, and personal agency.

The Initial Encounter

LeKachman lost her virginity to a 28-year-old equity broker she met at a bar. Although she was still in college and aspired to be a high school teacher, she agreed to go to his apartment. She reasoned that nothing had to happen, but the situation escalated quickly. Inside his apartment, she felt pressured by social expectations and guilt over accepting his payment for dinner.

When he suggested moving to the bedroom, she initially resisted, preferring to stay on the couch. However, physical advances continued without her explicit invitation. During the act, she dissociated, imagining waves crashing over her head while enduring pain. She left with blood in her underwear and a profound sense of dread, questioning why she had remained silent throughout the encounter.

Understanding Sexual Compliance

Disturbed by the experience, LeKachman decided to abstain from dating and sex. Research revealed that one in six women intentionally choose celibacy, according to a 2024 Psychology Today survey conducted at the Kinsey Institute. Abstinence is particularly common among Gen Zers, with more than 30% identifying as celibate. For LeKachman, this pause allowed her to process emotions related to what she termed a "consensual gray zone."

This concept aligns with Melissa Febos’s 2021 New York Times essay on "empty consent." Further research identified this dynamic as sexual compliance, defined in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy as having sex due to internalized expectations or power dynamics rather than desire. Heterosexual women often acquiesce to unwanted sex, facing consequences like trauma flashbacks. LeKachman recognized that social pressure and an age gap contributed to her inability to assert boundaries.

Redefining Consent

To explore these issues, LeKachman interviewed sex therapists. One expert challenged her view of the encounter as merely ambiguous, stating that acquiescing to unwanted sex is nonconsensual. Consent requires explicit, informed, and voluntary agreement. If individuals do not enthusiastically choose to participate, they have not met the voluntary requirement, even if they do not verbally say "stop."

Another therapist explained that consent exists on a continuum. While assault typically implies force or coercion, compliance does not constitute full consent. This framework helped LeKachman articulate her distress: she had not consented, but lacked the language to describe it. Structural gaps contribute to this confusion, as only 17 states require sex education covering consent. Legal definitions often fail to address subtle forms of compliance, leaving many unaware of their rights and desires.

Reclaiming Agency

Men may remain unaware of these nuances, often raised to be sexually assertive rather than attentive to social cues. LeKachman does not believe the broker intended harm, yet the interaction was not fully consensual. Open communication about legal versus harmful dynamics can foster respectful sexual experiences. During her two-year hiatus, LeKachman focused on building sexual agency by listing wants and practicing boundary-setting aloud.

She shifted energy toward female friendships and joined an intergenerational writers’ group. As the youngest member by at least 20 years, she found inspiration in older women’s work ethics and healthy relationships. Her celibacy ended when she met a graduate student, a cancer survivor turned poet, who read her article on sexual compliance. He validated her experience, and during their first intimate encounter, he respected her request to stop, holding her as she cried from relief.

Moving Forward

After breaking up, LeKachman returned to celibacy with increased confidence. To solidify her progress, she scheduled a nude photoshoot for her 25th birthday. Unlike her first sexual experience, where she dissociated, she felt present and comfortable taking up space during the shoot. This moment marked a shift from passive endurance to active self-possession.

LeKachman advocates for comprehensive sex education that addresses power dynamics and gender expectations. Such knowledge could help individuals recognize compliance and encourage partners to check in intentionally. Until policies improve, honest conversations about sexual preferences remain vital. Sharing her story has sparked dialogue, with many expressing unfamiliarity with sexual compliance or recognizing similar experiences. These exchanges validate feelings and promote mutual understanding.

Currently, LeKachman remains uncertain about the duration of her second period of celibacy. However, she knows any future relationship must empower her and reflect her choices, much like the autonomy she felt during her photoshoot.

Jacqueline LeKachman is a New York-based writer and editor whose essays explore family, sex, and other topics. Her work appears in Women’s Health, The Washington Post, The Guardian, Business Insider, and other publications. She is writing a memoir about how living with her mom’s compulsive hoarding and losing her virginity to sexual compliance led her to be celibate for over two years in her 20s. The experience revealed how both family and sexual dynamics can be deeply nonconsensual, and how a quest for control can give way to a deeper purpose. View her work and editing services at https://www.jacquelinelekachman.com.