Words and images by The Sex Talk Arabic
This piece is part of the “Sana wara Sana” issue
Finding reliable information about sex and the body is difficult, particularly when such discussions are considered taboo or shameful. Not only does this leave many questions unanswered, but it creates a gap between ourselves and our own bodies.
Based in Egypt, The Sex Talk Arabic is one organization that works to generate content related to sexual education, prioritizing Arabic-language and employing gender-affirming language. Through their accessible tone and instructive visuals, they speak to local challenges to provide practical advice that speak to our daily lives. Through reframing language and culture concepts, they are helping produce a narrative shift to destigmatize topics that are typically silenced and foster a larger conversion and discussion. The goal is to build connection, normalize these conversations, and participate in growing a larger movement.
In the conversation, they share more about their background and motivations; some of the key myths that permeate our communities; their comprehensive guide to HIV; and what further steps we might take to ensure the continuation and expansion of these efforts.
Before starting, how did The Sex Talk Arabic come about?
The Sex Talk Arabic is a digital platform that raises awareness about sexual health and rights for women and LGBTQIA+ individuals in Arabic. It began in 2018 as a private Facebook group where women could talk openly about sex, ask questions, share their concerns and support one another. This space was created because many women in Arabic-speaking countries lack access to sex education—a gap that fosters ignorance, shame, and isolation, often leading to violence against women.
As more women showed interest and wanted to help, the platform grew and expanded to different social media platforms. Over time, we started offering free training sessions for women in all their diversities and recruited volunteers to support the cause—some of whom are now part of our dedicated media team.
Since then, we’ve created various resources and workshops to help people understand their bodies and sexualities; collaborated with various sister organizations, activists, and experts to foster connection and support a larger movement; and a blog where people can share their personal stories.
What inspired the launch of the project? What gaps does it aim to address (informational, cultural, linguistic, etc.)?
Sex education is a taboo and largely ignored topic in the region. Many people mistakenly reduce it to ideas of pleasure and sex positions—concepts that, due to religious and traditional values, society avoids exposing girls and women to out of fear it might encourage sexual activity. In reality, sex education encompasses much more than that. This misunderstanding silences essential discussions about consent, boundaries, and safe practices—knowledge that is a basic right for everyone. Without proper education, girls, and women are left vulnerable to violence, which they often cannot talk about due to the stigma surrounding sex.
The sex education that is actually available in the region usually focuses only on family planning, leaving out essential topics like understanding our own bodies and sexuality. As a result, many women end up feeling scared, confused, and overwhelmed on their wedding night. They’ve spent their entire lives being taught to avoid their bodies, never coming close to their vaginas. Then, all of a sudden, they’re expected to have sex, and they’re stuck dealing with the shame they’ve been made to feel about their bodies and sexuality.
For those privileged enough to have internet access and understand English, there are some sex education resources out there. But they often miss the mark when it comes to the needs of Arabic-speaking women. These resources don’t take into account the unique cultural challenges we face, so they don’t really offer practical advice that speaks to our daily lives. Plus, because they’re in a different language and come from a different culture, they don’t help normalize sex for Arabic-speaking women, nor do they tackle the stigma and taboos surrounding it. And they definitely don’t create a safe space where women, girls, and LGBTQIA+ individuals in the region can share their stories, learn from each other, and support one another.
That’s where The Sex Talk comes in. We offer localized content that speaks directly to the realities and needs of women, girls, and LGBTQIA+ people in the region. We use Arabic, first and foremost, because it’s accessible to more people in the Arabic-speaking region. It’s also central to our mission of normalizing sexual health and rights. Speaking in Arabic makes discussing sex feel more natural and normal – it’s our language. By using Arabic, we reclaim our identities as individuals from Arabic-speaking communities and challenge taboos surrounding sexual education from within our cultures. But we’re not just about education—we’re also building a community where people can openly and safely ask their questions, share their experiences, and support each other.
Images by The Sex Talk Arabic
In addition to the rich Arabic-language content you provide, It seems like you try to use gender-inclusive language throughout your content. Can you tell us a bit more about this decision, and how it aligns with your vision/values?
Gendered language reinforces binary thinking and exclusionary practices. By using gender-inclusive language, we aim to foster understanding, normalize diversity, build a community where everyone feels they belong and are seen and acknowledged, and contribute to a more inclusive approach to SRHR that shapes the movement.
We use terms like ‘people with penises’ or ‘people with vaginas’ because not everyone with a vagina identifies as a woman, and not everyone with a penis identifies as a man. This includes transgender, non-binary, and gender-nonconforming individuals, who face additional stigma and invisibility in SRHR discussions.
Where do you think the conversation is around sex, sexuality, and sexual health in Egypt and the Arabic-speaking region, today? Have you noticed any shifts in how these topics since you launched the project?
Since our launch, we’ve definitely noticed an increase in followers, engagement, comments, and direct messages asking questions or sharing concerns. These aren’t just numbers—they show us that a conversation is happening around topics like sex, sexual orientations, gender, and women’s orgasms. Again, these subjects that are often taboo and rarely discussed by sex education platforms in Egypt.
We have active followers and viewers as well as silent ones, and receive feedback from individuals telling us how the platform has helped – whether it’s accepting their bodies and sexualities, navigating their first sexual experience with pleasure and without pain, or teaching those around the while using inclusive terms. People have thanked us for helping them realize their bodies belong to them, and they can explore their bodies on their own; and told us they’ve shared it with their teenage daughters to discuss topics together. These stories show the real impact our platform is having. Even the comments and messages that oppose our views or deem them immoral signal that we are challenging the narratives people are used to.
What have been the most persistent myths that circulate around sex, sexuality, and sexual health in the Arabic-speaking region? What positive shifts have you observed in dismantling certain myths?
Some of the most persistent myths we encounter in the Arabic-speaking region include:
- Women must bleed the first time they have penetrative sex because their hymen breaks, and this can supposedly prove they’re not virgins.
- Non-heterosexuality is a disease that requires therapy or religious intervention.
- Masturbation causes addiction, erectile dysfunction, infertility, or even blindness.
- Vulvas must look a certain way, with a specific color and smell.
We have noticed that our content on these specific topics gains a lot of engagement and positive feedback from people, who tell us that we made them feel reassured or that they were able to accept themselves more because of our content.
1. To debunk the virginity myth, we’ve gathered and shared testimonials from our followers about their first time, with many of them saying they didn’t actually bleed. We’ve also deconstructed the reasons behind bleeding, explaining that it’s not always due to the hymen, but often because of insufficient foreplay or a partner’s ignorance or violence during sex. We also showed illustrations of the hymen, broke down the different types, and explained that some women don’t have hymens at all, which proves that it is not proof of virginity.
2. Regarding sexual orientation myths, we have shared a lot of content to educate about sexual orientations and queer terms. We debunked myths about sexual orientations, sexual identities, and conversion therapy. We also create engagement activities in our stories, such as ask boxes, to provide a platform for LGBTQIA+ individuals to share their experiences and ask questions.
Images by The Sex Talk Arabic
3. For masturbation, we have created content addressing myths versus facts, discussed its benefits, offered tips on how to do it, and even offered a training session on overcoming shame about our bodies and desires.
4. For vulva shapes, we make it a point to show illustrations of different vulva shapes, colors, and sizes, including those with hair, because people are used to seeing only one specific look in porn. This way, we are assuring them and normalizing other shapes.
The impact of what we do is reflected in how comfortable our audience is and how much they trust us to ask questions and share their experiences. We receive feedback like, “I feel like you’re a safe zone, and it’s very rare for me to come out, but I feel like you’re very close to me, and I appreciate your acceptance,” and “You made me feel that masturbation is normal, even though many people say it’s wrong, and I used to feel disgusted with myself because of it.”
You’ve recently launched a comprehensive HIV guide. Can you tell us a bit more about the project? What motivated the campaign, and were there any challenges in producing it?
Our guide answers common questions and myths about HIV, like:
- What’s the difference between HIV and AIDS?
- How is HIV diagnosed, treated, and prevented?
- Where can you find support in Arabic-speaking countries?
- What’s it like living with HIV?
- How can you support a friend, partner, or family member with HIV?
Our motivation comes from seeing so much misinformation and misunderstanding about sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) in Arabic-speaking communities, especially when it comes to HIV. There is a significant gap in accessible, accurate, and culturally relevant information about it in the region. This lack of information profoundly impacts people living with HIV (PLHIV), causing them to face stigma, isolation, and uncertainty about where to seek help or treatment. Many avoid asking for help due to fear of judgment, which not only reduces their chances of living healthy lives but also increases the risk of HIV transmission to others.
For these reasons, we didn’t stop with just the guide. We also launched an HIV campaign to make these conversations as accessible and relatable as possible. Breaking down a complex topic like HIV, which is often surrounded by medical jargon, was challenging. Creating a resource in Arabic required significant effort, since most of the research and terminology is in English. But we knew it wasn’t just about translating medical information—it was about normalizing the conversation around HIV and providing support to people living with HIV (PLHIV). We wanted to keep it engaging without overwhelming people with technical details. So, we made sure both the guide and the campaign maintained a light-hearted, humorous tone, while staying sensitive to the cultural realities of Arabic-speaking communities.
We measure our impact through the number of views and downloads of our guide, as well as engagement with our HIV campaign on social media, where we share snippets from the guide. This gives us live feedback on people’s attitudes toward HIV through likes, shares, saves, and interactions in comments, DMs, and story replies, documenting how they respond to the topic and how their attitudes are being changed or challenged. Some of the feedback we received includes: “I am in a relationship with a PLHIV, and I didn’t know the information related to PEP and PrEP. Thank you for the detailed and reassuring guide.” and “The best part of this idea is the amount of optimism and awareness it spreads.”
What was the process of producing it? Why do you think it was important to incorporate both SRHR experts and lived experiences?
We developed the guide in collaboration with healthcare professionals, activists, and people living with HIV (PLHIV). We worked closely with HIV and sexual and reproductive health experts to ensure the medical accuracy of the content. Equally important was partnering with PLHIV, whose involvement was crucial to ensure that the guide reflects their unique experiences, perspectives, and needs. Their input helped shape the language, tone, and content, ensuring it is relevant, accessible, and informative for Arabic-speaking communities.
What are some of the most significant misconceptions that you address in this campaign?
One of the misconceptions we aimed to dispel is the idea that HIV is a death sentence. It’s important to understand that HIV is not the same as AIDS; not everyone with HIV progresses to AIDS. AIDS can only develop if a person with HIV does not receive treatment. With proper care, people living with HIV can lead long, healthy lives.
Another common myth is that HIV is exclusively associated with homosexuality. In reality, heterosexual individuals can also transmit HIV through sexual contact. Additionally, HIV can be transmitted in other ways besides sex, such as through blood transfusions and even passed from mother to child (congenital transmission).
What steps did you take to ensure accessibility and engagement with diverse communities?
Our guide and the HIV campaign are digital-only, and we used everyday Arabic terms rather than overly technical jargon to ensure the information was accessible and relatable to diverse audiences. Our writing adopts a light tone, incorporating humor to normalize the topic and reduce fear.
We also made the guide visually appealing with infographics and illustrations to simplify complex ideas. Our goal was to create a resource that could be easily understood by people of various educational backgrounds, prioritizing inclusivity in both design and content. Additionally, we ensure accessibility in our fonts, colors, and design choices—avoiding hard-to-read font sizes or clashing colors that could make the information difficult to process.
In addition to the guide, we are sharing snippets on our social media and utilizing interactive tools like quizzes and ask boxes in our stories to engage our audience. Furthermore, we are launching a video series to share HIV stories, catering to those who prefer audio content over reading.
While we know there’s much more to be done, as an emerging organization, we take it one step at a time. Although our content is digital, this format actually increases accessibility for many in the region who prefer it over physical resources—especially when learning about sensitive topics like SRHR. Beyond the digital sphere, we also collaborate with sister organizations and grassroots groups working on the ground to ensure the information reaches wider communities.
Images by The Sex Talk Arabic
What is the most critical step toward reducing stigma around sexual and reproductive health in the region?
We believe that openly discussing sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR) is one of the most important steps we can take. These discussions need to go beyond family planning and marriage, addressing silenced topics such as sexual orientation, abortion, and women’s orgasms. But it’s not about lecturing people on these topics—it’s about fostering conversations, encouraging discussions, and building a community where people feel safe exploring, reflecting and learning without shame or judgment.
The way we talk about these topics matters just as much. For instance, using euphemisms like “down there” to refer to body parts perpetuates silence and shame. Words hold power—using terms like “العادة السرية” (the secret habit) for masturbation instead of “الامتاع الذاتي” (self-pleasure) reinforces the stigma and shame surrounding masturbation specifically and sex more broadly.
It’s not just about naming things, but also about redefining and creating terms that reflect our realities in our own language. For example, we have redefined certain common expressions like “الشذوذ الجنسي” (sexual deviance) which is used to refer to non-heterosexuals, but we redefined it as people who don’t take no for an answer and keep pushing, pressuring, or using physical violence for sex. We even started rewording some popular cultural sayings (أمثلة شعبية) like changing “اكسر للبنت ضلع يطلعلها ٢٤” (break a girl’s rib and she’ll have 24) to “اكسر للبنت ضلع تحبسك” (break a girl’s rib and she’ll put you in jail), or “السكوت علامة الرضى” (silence means consent) to “السكوت علامة التفكير أو الرفض” (silence means thinking or refusal).
Visuals also play a crucial role, not just in education, but in normalizing the representation of diverse bodies that reflect our cultures, colors, and body types, rather than conforming to slim or white standards. Illustrating women’s body parts and providing anatomy education in Arabic are essential because many people lack basic knowledge about women’s bodies. For example, some don’t know where the vagina or clitoris is because women are often viewed solely as vessels for reproduction, rather than as individuals deserving of pleasure.
We also use videos featuring real people from Arabic-speaking countries who openly discuss SRHR topics. They laugh, get angry, and make fun of taboos, stigmas, and normalized behaviors like harassment or violence in sexual relationships. This approach not only helps normalize conversations and break taboos but also sets an example, encouraging others to speak openly about these topics.
In this climate, how would you advise people to find reliable resources as they research about topics related to sexual health? Are there any resources you’d recommend?
There is still a significant gap in knowledge production and resources around positive and inclusive sex education in the region. Conversations about sex are still largely considered taboo, rarely addressed in schools, and often avoided within families. Even when information is available, it frequently fails to reflect the diverse realities of people in our communities, excluding experiences related to sexual orientation, gender identity, pleasure, and bodily autonomy. There’s still much more to be done to ensure that everyone in the region has access to the knowledge and services they need to make informed decisions about their bodies, relationships, and health.
If you were to recommend three Sex Talk articles or posts that our readers should read, what would they be and why?
We recommend our HIV guide because learning about HIV is crucial—not only for people living with HIV or their loved ones, but for everyone who wants to ensure they’re not contributing to the stigma. When we aren’t informed, we inadvertently become part of that stigma. We also suggest our workbook, Taazila, which provides a valuable resource to help reflect on our relationships with our bodies, sexualities, and boundaries, while setting meaningful goals in these areas. These are aspects we often overlook when focusing on personal growth. It’s something we need to unpack and unlearn a lot about, especially since we weren’t shown examples of how to approach these topics in a healthy way.