My mother never spoke to me about intimacy with a man. As a teenager, I was ceremoniously handed a book titled The Encyclopedia for Girls, which, presumably, was supposed to answer all my questions about growing up. But not a single page suggested that before sharing physical intimacy, I had the right — and the need — to ask myself meaningful questions. About feelings, about boundaries, about what it all really means. This article is not a manual on when to have sex or how many dates before sex is ‘appropriate.’. It’s a result of years of observing, reflecting, and learning about relationships. What follows is a gentle set of markers, designed to help you tune into yourself before taking a significant step.

Desire and pressure can sometimes feel alarmingly similar. Many people say “yes” to intimacy not out of genuine desire, but from fear — of rejection, of being “too much” or “too slow,” of not meeting expectations.

Ask yourself:

• Am I emotionally and physically ready for this?
• Is this something I truly want, or something I feel I should do?
• Are my actions in alignment with my values?

Sometimes, the most powerful “yes” is the one we give to ourselves when we say “not yet.”

Whether it’s sex after first date or much later, intimacy without communication is like walking into the dark without a flashlight. It’s not just about consent, but about mutual understanding.

Consider:

• Have we discussed what this means to both of us?
• Can I express my needs and boundaries without fear?
• Do I feel safe — emotionally and physically — with this person?

Honest conversation might feel awkward, but it’s a far better discomfort than the one that comes from silence and misunderstanding.

Sex can deepen connection — or bring unexpected vulnerability. It’s important to understand what intimacy awakens in you.

• Do I feel emotionally connected with this person?
• How do I usually feel after sex — more bonded, more exposed, or indifferent?
• Am I expecting this encounter to change the nature of our relationship?

Knowing your emotional landscape supports your sexual readiness and helps prevent disappointment — or at least prepares you to hold space for it.

Romantic moments don’t exclude responsible choices. In fact, true intimacy includes care.

• Have we talked about STIs, contraception, and protection?
• Do I feel physically safe and respected in this situation?

This isn’t about killing the mood — it’s about building trust.

We all carry stories — from culture, family, faith, or past experience. Sometimes we act against them to fit in, to be loved, to feel free. But inner peace rarely comes from betrayal of self.

• What are my personal values around intimacy?
• Am I acting in line with them — or avoiding discomfort by going against them?

Staying true to yourself is not prudish or naive. It’s powerful.

You don’t have to be in love. But it helps to know where you stand.

• Is there trust — or at least the beginning of it?
• Is there care and mutual respect, even if this doesn’t turn into something long-term?
• What role do I want sex to play in this relationship — comfort, connection, curiosity?

Sex doesn’t have to be serious, but it does deserve to be conscious.

Sex is not a box to check or a milestone to reach. It’s a deeply personal expression of connection, desire, and trust — with another and with yourself. And the most important voice in this decision isn’t society’s, your partner’s, or anyone else’s. It’s yours.

So if you find yourself wondering whether it’s the “right time,” maybe pause and ask: Is this truly right for me, right now? Not forever. Just now.

And if you ever need a gentle mirror to help you explore those questions — I’m here. Yours, Ksenia Trefilova