Let’s talk about something that can feel a little taboo: where our sexual preferences come from.

It’s a topic that makes a lot of people clam up, but I think it’s one of the most important questions we can ask about ourselves. Why are we drawn to certain people, certain dynamics, certain acts? Is it random, or is there something deeper at play? I believe our life experiences, especially the difficult ones, have a huge role in shaping the answer.

To explain what I mean, I need to get a little personal. When I was a kid in school, there was someone who bullied me. It wasn’t just teasing; he seemed to genuinely enjoy hurting people, physically and emotionally. Day after day, I felt completely powerless, trapped in a situation I couldn’t escape. I didn’t know what to do, or who to tell.

Years later, as an adult, I started to notice a pattern in my own desires. I found myself drawn to dynamics that, strangely, echoed that same feeling of powerlessness from my childhood. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but the connection was undeniable. That early experience of helplessness had somehow become wired into what I found arousing.

You might think that’s just a one-off story, but I’ve seen it time and again. A close friend of mine was forced into a sexual act with a roommate when he was only twelve, a pattern of abuse that continued for years. Today, as an adult, he identifies as gay and finds himself drawn to masochistic dynamics. Over the years, I’ve heard so many stories like ours.

So, what does this all mean? These aren’t just coincidences. Traumatic experiences, especially when we’re young, can fundamentally shape the way we connect with others and what we seek from intimacy.

There’s actually a lot of research that backs this up. Psychologists talk about “attachment theory,” which basically says our first relationships with caregivers create our internal blueprint for all future relationships. When trauma is part of that early blueprint, it can lead to unhealthy “scripts” for how we believe sex and intimacy are supposed to work. (Source)

Trauma can also physically change our brains. Research shows that abuse can impact the parts of the brain responsible for emotional regulation, insight, and our ability to form healthy bonds. When these areas are affected, it’s no surprise that our sexual behaviors and preferences can be influenced, too. (Source)

When the brain is trying to cope, it can go in a few different directions.

For some survivors, sex becomes a way to regain a sense of control that was stolen from them. This can sometimes look like compulsive sexual behavior—a way to manage overwhelming emotions or numb the pain from the past.

For others, the opposite happens. They might develop a pattern of sexual withdrawal, where intimacy feels terrifying. They might have low desire, feel anxious about sex, or find it incredibly difficult to get close to anyone.

Interestingly, research also suggests that these coping mechanisms can show up differently based on gender. Men who have experienced trauma are more likely to develop externalizing behaviors, like using sex to cope (hypersexuality). Women, on the other hand, are more likely to internalize their pain, leading to sexual avoidance or a confusing push-pull between wanting and fearing intimacy.

The point of all this isn’t to say that we’re broken or doomed by our pasts. Far from it. The most powerful thing we can do is understand the “why” behind our desires. Understanding is the first step toward healing.

With the right kind of support, like trauma-informed therapy, it is absolutely possible to rewrite those old scripts. We can learn to build healthier, happier, and more fulfilling relationships—with sex, with others, and most importantly, with ourselves. And if you’re a parent, I hope this highlights how vital it is to create a safe world for your kids and to give them the knowledge and confidence to protect themselves. It’s not just about “sex ed”; it’s about empowerment.

Thanks for exploring this difficult topic with me today. Be kind to yourself.