As we have done in the past, we did a vibe check around this In Plainspeak theme of Digital Intimacies and Sexuality. We wanted to find out from young people between the ages of 18-30 years:

How do you navigate intimacy on digital platforms?
What do you enjoy, what concerns you?
How much of yourself are you able to be on these platforms?
Does your digital life differ from your “in-person” life?

So TARSHI folks got together for a long think ¹. We designed and administered an online survey – one that crowd-sourced responses on the subject of digital intimacies. 83 people responded (thank you for your time and trust). This helps build a larger, more accessible pool of observations about our environment, where it appears that many of us seamlessly integrate physical, socio-cultural and digital life experiences.

In the introduction to our survey, we acknowledged two facts:

1. Many of us seek and find intimacy online these days, whether it’s sexual, erotic, platonic or emotional.
2. While digital spaces offer possibilities of sexual freedom and pleasure, they also hold the threat of surveillance, exposure, and abuse.

Most of the survey questions were in multiple-choice format, presenting pre-articulated options. Three questions offered space for short answer text – Location, Gender Identity and Sexual Identity/Orientation. Two questions offered space for free-flowing long answers. These are described ahead, along with the responses.

So let’s take a look at the mirror.

We wanted to get a sense of the age of our survey respondents across three categories.

Here’s what we got:
18 to 21 years – 20.5%
22 to 25 years – 28.9%
26 to 30 years – 50.6%

Half of the respondents were over 25 years old. This could signify one of a number of things, for example, that the opportunity and/or intent to access the internet and engage with issues of intimacy and sexuality may be more for the older rather than the younger age group. Or, simply that 25+ year-olds respond to surveys more than do those who are younger. One of the constraints of this article, given the time at hand, is that we have not been able to take a detailed age-differentiated approach to responses for each question.

We asked where respondents were located.

18 of 83 respondents, a little over 20%, specified their location. Of these, 15 specified a city in India (all, except one, are Tier 1 cities) and two respondents named only their state. One respondent specified a location abroad. It is clear that respondents to this survey are careful about personal boundaries, negotiating between physical/geographical and digital, in what they chose to reveal about themselves in this survey. We may not assume this to be true across digital intimacy behaviours practiced as well, but perhaps it indicates at the start that a sense of boundaries is in place for most people.

We asked respondents about their Gender Identity, as well as Sexual identity/ Orientation.

Close to 50% of the respondents gender-identified as female and/or woman, and a little over 20%, as male. The rest varied in their response, to include cis-male, cis-female/woman, non-binary, gender non-conforming.

On the subject of Sexual Identity/Orientation, 22 respondents identified as heterosexual, 27 used the word straight, and we think they mean the same thing which makes this a total of 49 (60%) heterosexual/straight respondents. 9 people identified as bisexual (11%). The rest varied in their response, with descriptions including queer, gay, woman-man, homosexual, heteroflexible, bicurious, pansexual and asexual.

Based on the responses to the questions on gender identity and sexual orientation, it is interesting to see that:

• A minority of the respondents identified as being gender non-binary or non-conforming.
• The large majority identified themselves using familiar accepted terms for mainstream gender identity.
• Also, a majority of the respondents described sexual identity and orientation using familiar accepted terms for mainstream, heterosexual/straight sexual identity.
• It is also seen from responses that the distinction between gender identity and sexual identity and orientation is not clear, as some respondents have mentioned gender identity to describe sexual orientation, such as ‘straight female’, ‘female’ or ‘cis-woman’.

Responses to the question about sexual identity show a greater diversity and creativity in the descriptive terms used, when compared to responses focusing on gender identity. Is this reflective of a tendency to be more interested in the sexual self rather than in gendered notions of self? Does the digital space give greater room to explore personal, sexual identity without getting entangled in the social construct of gender along with the accompanying societal expectations? Is sexuality more exciting than gender? This matters when we consider the role of social frameworks in the way an individual presents or hides aspects of themselves.

Digital intimacy seen thus, appears to be visibly integrated into mainstream behaviour and practice. Is it possible that this mirrors visibility as it exists in the physical space?

Next, we asked:

Which digital platforms do you feel most comfortable using to express your romantic desires or sexual identity? (Select all that apply)

Over 65% of respondents chose ‘Private Messaging (WhatsApp, Discord, Snapchat)’.

This was followed (30%) by ‘Social Media (Instagram/TikTok)’and, coming in next and close, ‘Dating Apps (Tinder, Hinge, Grindr, etc.)’. Running at fourth place (25%) was ‘I do not express these parts of myself online’.

There is a big difference in terms of numbers, between the first choice and the rest. It is also significant that private messaging platforms are being used for digital intimacy by a large majority, while a quarter of the total number ‘do not express’ intimacy online.

The trend is to express and practice intimacy rather than not. This intimacy remains as close to personal (private) spaces, not so much in social, dating spaces, perhaps again mirroring physical spaces. This has implications for security of private messaging or breach of such security and data. The concept of private unfolds differently in the digital realm, where private is controlled by companies, and may be subject to legal, government control, in an environmental kind of way. This means that the individual is actually living this aspect of their life in the digital world with privacy being controlled by multiple bigger players. In contrast, privacy in the physical world is generally controlled by players closer to home, such as family, peers, community.

Yes, read that again. We tend to take our physical world habits into the digital world, but the two environments are not the same. Very different dynamics and scale operate in these worlds.

So on to the next plot point!

How have digital platforms influenced your expectations of what a meaningful relationship looks like?

A large chunk of respondents (45%) say ‘They have provided more knowledge and diverse perspectives’. Between this and the second option chosen by respondents is a big gap again, with 25% respondents saying ‘They have set unrealistically high standards’.

While knowledge and diverse perspectives may have an inherent potential to be enriching, is there a safe space to consider one’s own benchmarks and standards?

Coming in third, unsurprisingly, is anxiety, with about 13% of the group saying ‘They make me feel more anxious about my relationships’. Add to this the fourth chosen option, with 7% of the respondents saying ‘They have really influenced my expectations’.

Now we have reason to question whether digital and physical spaces exist where an individual can design a measure for themselves, a measure that suits them and is not a factory setting based on trends, algorithms, disinformation, misinformation or even simply differing circumstances!

Our next question was:

When navigating digital intimacy, what is your primary concern?

An overwhelming majority consider privacy to be their biggest concern. Over 85% of respondents agreed on ‘Privacy and data security (people’s images being shared without consent etc.)’. The next concern for about 70% of respondents was ‘Personal safety (Meeting strangers, Harassment/Abuse etc.)’.

This links back to responses regarding location of respondents – identified by about 20% only. It also causes us to pause yet again when considering whether our approach to understanding the ‘private’ of ‘private messaging platforms’ of digital spaces needs to be different from our understanding of private in physical environments.

Two other important considerations that stand out are: ‘Misinterpretation of tone or intent’ (over 40% respondents) and ‘Ghosting or “breadcrumbing”’ (over 30% respondents). At the level of sensing the feelings behind choosing these options, one may cautiously wonder if both reveal anxieties related to self-perception, how others perceive us, and the consequences, in physical or digital spaces.

While this survey was not designed for deeper exploration of these aspects – self, relationship and intimacy – it is clear that consequences remain a big part of the assessment of concerns and options. This appears to align with a general sense of being practical and keeping the self safe, both quite visible as values in the physical world.

So we ask, that since we teach our children how to cross a road or lock a door, is it also important to teach them how to practice safe and practical behaviours in the digital world? Is it enough to say, take away the cell phone/social media from everyone below a certain age and then hand it to them overnight at a certain age? Knee-jerk reactions do not yield effective or sustainable solutions. We learnt to cross a road because someone held our hand – till we were old enough and learned how to cross the road alone.

Then came:

How do you negotiate self-representation on digital platforms? Considering factors such as visibility (who can see what you post), authenticity, anonymity, self-censorship etc.

About 50% of the respondents seek authenticity in self-representation, and have chosen ‘Being able to be my authentic self’. This point stands apart. It is followed by a little over 30% respondents who say ‘Existing anonymously online’.

Further, in contrast to the 50% survey respondents who present as desiring and practising authenticity, 20% negotiate self-representation by ‘By making an alternate persona/fake profile online’, and about 15% do so by ‘Exercising the greater visibility that these platforms offer’.

This particular issue of negotiating self-representation is also a complex one. Again, this survey and this article do not have the breadth and depth of scope required to dig deeper and make the connections across the multiple options that respondents have chosen, some having chosen combinations of options. The significance of this becomes clearer if we explore the option that stands out as a majority option, chosen by half of all respondents, the ‘authentic self’. 30 respondents out of a total of 41 who chose the authentic self, quite often chose none of the other options, seemingly giving this weightage and value all on its own, without qualifiers. This is about three-quarters of this subset of respondents.

But a minority of those who chose this option, combined it with four other options:
‘Exercising the greater visibility that these platforms offer’ (7 respondents)
‘Existing anonymously online’ (2 respondents)
‘While also protecting vulnerable parts of myself that are private and not for any platforms. Exercising discernment’ (1 respondent)
‘Being a woman using online mediums for intimacy is mostly an unnerving experience. You feel that you have the technology to experience intimacy, but you’re constantly living with a sword dangling over your head’ (1 respondent)

Again, the majority of those for whom authenticity is key, who also chose an additional option, went for the greater visibility of these platforms, to be visible. Anonymity, discernment and feeling unnerved/sword dangling do not appear to be factors given as much weight by those who desire authenticity. People want to be themselves, and, in fact, more people want to be themselves than not.

Not a single respondent chose authenticity in combination with ‘alternate persona/fake profile online’. This does not necessarily mean that the fake persona is not authentic to the individual’s experience of themself. Lived experience shared between friends and peers/anonymously points to other possibilities. A person who may not have the safe space to be their authentic selves can choose to create an alternate or fake persona for multiple purposes, such as exploration of identity, or fantasy. So some respondents did combine the fake persona option with ‘Exercising the greater visibility that these platforms offer’, and also ‘Existing anonymously online’.

Connecting this to the fact that a majority of the respondents to this survey identified within the gender binary, and specified heterosexual/straight sexual orientation, it becomes important to continually question whether authenticity is easier for some people and more challenging for others. However, reflections such as these are for the moment, beyond the scope of this survey and this article. They do point to a complex set of factors involved with digital intimacy, sexuality, society and individual experience that are rich material for identifying and creating a safer, self-affirming, more inclusive environment. In digital as well as physical and socio-cultural spaces.

There’s more. At this stage some of us took a coffee break. There’s a lot to think about. Like this:

Do you believe the “digital world” has made finding meaningful intimacy easier or more difficult?

This question invited respondents to share free-flowing inputs. We read each response and acknowledge and appreciate the time many respondents have taken to think through this. A few things that stood out for us:

The word ‘difficult’ was used to describe experiences about 30 times, and in the context of other concepts, words and phrases that support the sense of ‘difficult’. These include: superficiality, loneliness, isolation, privacy, threat, safety, lack of authenticity, poor attention span, challenges, transactional and commodified, lack of meaning/meaningfulness, fake narratives, lack of transparency, unrealistic relationship standards and criteria, performative behaviour, deception, and window shopping. The search for meaning/meaningful engagements has been quite often mentioned in this context of ‘difficult’.

The words ‘easy’ and ‘easier’ have been used to describe experiences about 24 times. While the gap between 30 and 24 does not seem to be much, the context provides greater understanding. Overall, the concept of ease has been qualified rather than supported. The context described by many respondents reduces the possibility of ‘meaningful’ intimacy or relationships, with many people saying that ease is more in terms of access to many choices, easy-but-also-difficult, trust/loyalty issues.

Overall, reading through the responses to this question, there is a sense that difficulties have been more easily described and supported than ease.

There are some ideas that come through in individual responses that we would like to highlight:

• Many respondents have sought to ask/addressed what intimacy/real intimacy means, or shows up as – some specifying aspects that include time, presence, vulnerability, new layers to intimacy/new models of relationships.
• That options being easily available online impacts relationships/allows people to connect across geography, interests, and communities/makes people seem disposable.
• Commodification of intimacy.
• Potential for greater autonomy in the digital space.
• Social media platforms, privacy and data protection issues. This keeps raising its hand to be counted. We see it. But do the big player, the corporate, the data gatherer and data farmer?
• Divided attention on social media/short attention spans as well as increasing lack of patience (to slow response times).

So then we also asked:

Have you created or been a subject to any of the following cyber crimes/security breaches like: deepfakes, revenge porn, morphing, sharing photos without consent etc.?

Out of 83 respondents, 11 people said that they have been subjected to this, while 3 respondents said that have done both, been subject to, as well as created these. This is about 18% of respondents. The large majority of respondents, a little over 80%, have said that none of this has been part of their experience. As we write this, we remind you that each number here is actually a person. And all of the other persons they engage with. The time they spend, the emotions they feel, the thoughts they think and the world they create.

We then moved to:

Do you “rehearse” online or ask for certain sexual advice before playing it out in real life scenarios?

65% of the respondents said they do not do this, about 15% said that they do, and about 20% said maybe. Perhaps ‘rehearsing’ is a word loaded with meaning, a rehearsal being not quite real life, therefore not quite the authentic self that most respondents seek to present? And what about the 35% of do’s and maybe’s? Who are they asking and what is their experience when they are ‘rehearsing’?

As you read the next question, ask yourself as well:

How do you understand “digital consent” in the context of modern-day dating?

This question too invited respondents to share free-flowing thoughts in long-form text. Again, we read each response and are grateful for all inputs. What stood out:

45% of the respondents said that consent needed to be explicit, explaining this in some cases as a binary not a grey area, meaning a Yes or a No, and that consent had to be asked for/ permission had to be sought.

Almost 15% of the respondents expressed in various ways that they were unsure/didn’t know/ hadn’t thought about it, or did not want to comment.

More than 50% of the respondents explained their understanding of consent in various, often extensively descriptive ways. Well over half of this subset of respondents spoke of multiple concepts such as respect, dignity, choices, privacy, sharing or deleting images/nudes, personal safety, boundaries, comfort, intimate, performance, digital interactions, location sharing, complicated, tricky, general discernment, etiquette and manners, bodily autonomy, trust, retracting consent, being mindful, transparent communication, grey area, not restricted to physical space, sexualising/not sexualising/flirting, AI & data sharing/control, viewing vs. sharing, creating fake consent, understanding cues, something in the moment, meeting vs. sexual acts, familiarity and compatibility, checking in, not pushing. These respondents did not identify explicit permission in Yes/No terms as being consent. One respondent homed in on this by saying that the concept of consent differs for different people. Another respondent stated that consent is a myth, but did not explain this further.

Clearly, again mirroring the physical, social and relationship spaces we inhabit, consent is complicated. Yes, many people are unsure of how it works out in practice, what it means or how to come to grips with it. The digital world, as we’ve noted earlier, is a different environment, for many people, quite a new environment. Consent is a big theme and it requires big time reflection, conversation and clarity. This being the case, our next question.

Where do you get most of your information regarding digital consent and online safety?

The top four options chosen in various combinations, in order of most to least often chosen – ‘Friends/Peers’, ‘Social media creators/Influencers’, (each chosen by over 60% of the respondents), and ‘Self-taught through experience’, and ‘Online Resources (Feminist websites etc.)’, (each chosen by over 50% of the respondents). A little over 30% said ‘School/College/Workplace’. Other options mentioned included newspapers, law college, and shorts.

It is interesting to note that friends and peers rub shoulders with social media influencers – and this pretty much follows trends over the generations where peer influence and celebrity influence appear to be almost equal in stature and value. We reiterate our point about the digital and the physical – how different are these spaces and who or what controls them? And finally, how this plays out in the digital world as opposed to a pre-digital world where it was less easy to interact with or even access peers and friends, and certainly celebrities.

We exist, all of us, across generations and differences, we walk together and learn together – new languages, new ways of being. Some of us are born phygital, others at various stages of learning to negotiate digital, non-digital. Everyone takes their own time, at their own pace, to understand intimacy and sexuality. We owe ourselves and each other safe spaces and support, acceptance of differences, respect and understanding. The time to honour this may have passed us by, but in an ongoing way, because we are all still here, the time to honour this is also now.

1. Like all things TARSHI, this was a team effort. Special kudos to Gayatri Gupta, Nandhini Jaishankar, and Vani Viswanathan (and that’s in alphabetical order!)↩

Cover image by Jessica Lewis thepaintedsquare on Pexels