Diary of a Gen-Z Student: It’s time for some proper sex education

Jane Cowan: 'I did spend about four months making a bird house in transition year. So, I can see why it was so difficult to fit in topics like condoms and STIs.' Picture: Barry Cronin

Our education system gets a lot wrong when it comes to teaching young people about sex. Wrong in the sense that they basically don’t teach you anything and just hope that you’ll make use of Google when the time comes.

One sexual education class I received at the age of about 15 discussed the mystery of menstruation: "When blood passes through the female body every month." I remember the quote so well because I cackled at how poorly it was being described.

Our class on contraception was basically an advertisement for the Bible and bloody well controlling ourselves until we were ready to commit to marriage and babies. If you were to believe the sexual education I received, gay people existed; they just didn’t have sex. Obviously.

But I did spend about four months making a bird house in transition year. So, I can see why it was so difficult to fit in topics like condoms and STIs. The curriculum had bigger fish to fry!

It’s no wonder we have so many messed up ideas around sex. Of these ideas, the one I find most disagreeable is body count. Keeping a tally of how many people you’ve slept with, as a mark of your sexual prowess? Or maybe it’s about your desirability? Or your smooth, flirtatious moves? I’m not exactly sure.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a list as much as the next guy. I’ll write a to-do list every morning. I even keep a list of all the books I’ve read. But that we’re all supposed to be keeping a list of our sexual conquests grates in a way I can’t quite put into words.

Maybe body count, being one of those things that’s laced with so many gendered double standards, is why I have never been able to make much sense of it. For guys, every addition to the tally is worn like a badge of honour. A signal of their manliness, their skills of seduction, their ability to make women weak at the knees. 

They’re like intrepid explorers, only delighted with every successful conquest. Whether or not they delighted their conquest is immaterial in boy world. Job done, box ticked, legend status achieved. That’s what being a man is all about.

But for women, things are different. Women are supposed to be passive, innocent, non-sexual. Don’t forget all the patriarchal messaging that you’ve been fed since birth. You don’t want to be seen as easy. You’re a prize to be won.

A real lady would act a little mystified at the very mention of sex. She should be unsure that she even possesses a vagina because that is something for Prince Charming to fill her in on, when the time is right.

We’re practically told women should pretend they’re a Victorian doing their patriotic duty: Lie back and think of Ireland. And I get that back in the day, marriage and sex were all about property, patriarchy, and having heirs to the family estate, or whatever. But it’s 2026. Surely, it’s time to let that stuff go.

Frankly, if a woman doesn’t just sit around and dream about her wedding day, society would have you believe there’s something profoundly wrong with her.

A guy can be a ladies’ man, a Casanova, a playboy. And society will praise him for his charm, fortitude and good looks. But a girl will be labelled a slut faster than you can say misogyny.

I’m not blaming guys for these stereotypes. We all buy into them and pretend that they are grounded in fact.

A friend once told me that I should keep it a secret that I was on a contraceptive pill, so that people didn’t get the wrong impression. When she said it, I couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer unfairness of it all. And if anyone asks, it’s to regulate your period.

Upon reflection, maybe we could do with fewer bird houses and some real sex education. I’m 22, and I’m already sick of this.