This is one of those conversations that most people have never had out loud. We've all watched porn — or at least the vast majority of us have — but talking about what we actually watched, what turned us on, and how those preferences have changed over time? That feels like next-level vulnerability. But I think it's a conversation worth having because our porn preferences can actually tell us a lot about our desires, our curiosities, and even our insecurities.

I decided to make a video about this after noticing how many people in my community were carrying shame about what they watch or used to watch. And I get it. Porn exists in this weird cultural space where almost everyone consumes it but almost nobody talks about it honestly. So let's change that.

Your Preferences Don't Define You

Let me start with the most important thing: what turns you on in a fantasy or on a screen does not necessarily reflect what you want in real life. This is a crucial distinction that so many people miss. Fantasy is a sandbox. It's a place where your brain can explore ideas without consequences. Watching something in porn doesn't mean you want to do it, and it definitely doesn't make you a bad person.

Research consistently shows that the things people find arousing in fantasy often differ significantly from what they want in reality. Your brain is attracted to novelty, taboo, and intensity in fantasy because those things create heightened arousal. That's how the brain works. It doesn't mean your fantasies are a blueprint for your actual desires.

How Preferences Evolve Over Time

Something I find really fascinating is how porn preferences shift throughout our lives. What you watched as a teenager discovering sexuality for the first time is probably very different from what you watch now. That evolution is completely normal and reflects the broader development of your sexual identity.

Your porn preferences at twenty aren't a life sentence. They're a snapshot of who you were at that moment. People grow, and so do their desires.

Many people start with fairly vanilla content and gradually explore more diverse or niche categories as they become more comfortable with their sexuality. Others start with more intense content and eventually migrate toward something softer or more emotional. There's no right trajectory. The only thing that matters is that what you're consuming feels aligned with your values and isn't causing you distress.

The Shame Problem

The biggest issue I see around porn isn't the porn itself — it's the shame that surrounds it. People carry enormous guilt about what they've watched, and that guilt can bleed into their real-life relationships and sexual experiences. They feel like they're hiding a dark secret when in reality, they're just a person with a normal, curious brain.

Shame is particularly damaging because it prevents honest communication. If you're ashamed of your desires, you're unlikely to share them with a partner, which means you're unlikely to have the kind of sex that truly satisfies you. It creates a cycle of secrecy and dissatisfaction that nobody benefits from.

Talking About It With a Partner

One of the most liberating things you can do in a relationship is talk about porn openly. Not in a confrontational way, but as a genuine exploration of each other's inner worlds. What does your partner watch? What do they find interesting? Are there things they've seen that they'd like to try? These conversations, when approached with curiosity rather than judgment, can open up entirely new dimensions of your sexual relationship.

That said, timing and approach matter. Don't bring it up during an argument or when your partner is stressed. Choose a relaxed moment and frame it as curiosity, not confession. And be prepared to hear things that might surprise you — because they probably will. Your partner's fantasy life is their own, and learning about it is a privilege that requires maturity and openness.

A Healthier Relationship With Porn

The goal isn't to watch more porn or less porn. The goal is to have a relationship with it that feels honest and healthy. That means consuming it without shame, being aware of how it affects your expectations and your real-life sexual experiences, and being willing to take a break if you notice it's becoming a crutch rather than a supplement. It also means seeking out ethical, consensually produced content when possible, because the people in those videos are real human beings who deserve respect.

I dive deeper into all of this in the video below, including some candid sharing about my own evolving preferences and what they've taught me. It's a conversation I think we all need to have more often.