Why Some Latinas Are Choosing Celibacy And Finding Power in It

While abstaining from sex may seem antiquated, for some women, it’s a deliberate choice, one that carries real power.

For many Latina women, celibacy comes with its own complexities. Our mothers and grandmothers came of age when abstaining from sex was rooted in religious or conservative expectations. For contemporary Latinas, however, the meaning has shifted dramatically.

Today, choosing celibacy isn’t about moral purity. It’s about mental health, autonomy, and self-preservation.

Redefining Celibacy

The textbook definition of celibacy is the state of abstaining from marriage and sexual relations. However, Latina sexologist Dra. Jessica Sánchez, LMSW, MEd, explains that this rigid definition fails to capture the fluid spectrum of the lived experience.

Dra. Sánchez describes celibacy as existing on a continuum alongside abstinence and sexual relationships, each serving a different purpose. For some women, celibacy may mean not having sexual relations with a partner, but even that can look different depending on how they define their identity and boundaries. For some, it might mean abstaining from penetrative sex while still engaging in foreplay. For others, it could mean refraining from self-pleasure altogether. Ultimately, celibacy is different for everyone.

Power in Choice

Steffi Puerto, 25, has practiced celibacy on and off throughout her adult life. It’s been over a year since she’s been intimate with another person, a decision she made after realizing she doesn’t need sex to feel fulfilled.

“I feel like there’s a lot of power in being like, ‘you know what? I don’t need this physical satisfaction to feel good about myself or to feel valued,'” she explains.

For her, celibacy simply means abstaining from sex with other people. Raised first-generation in a Catholic household, Steffi remembers her mom telling her, “te tienes que esperar hasta que te cases—like, you have to be a virgin ’til marriage.” She’s long since broken from those norms.

“I’m choosing not to have sex because I don’t wanna have sex,” she says. “This doesn’t make me a prude, and this doesn’t make me conservative, having the choice is what matters.”

The decision hasn’t always been easy. She recalls tension with friends in college when it seemed like everyone around her was exploring their sexuality. “When I was younger, it would get to me, ’cause I was like, ‘Oh, am I not normal? Like, why am I choosing not to be sexually active when it feels like everyone around me is?'” Over time, she learned that being celibate gave her peace and clarity.

Emotional Connection Over Casual Encounters

Ces Heredia, 32, shares a similar sentiment and knows what it feels like to be in control.

Growing up in Tamaulipas, northern Mexico, Ces was surrounded by conservative values, though no one explicitly told her to wait until marriage. Despite coming from a family that was more open about sex, she didn’t have sex for the first time until the day before her 25th birthday, with someone she wasn’t sure she loved but for whom she had deep feelings.

“I’ve been big for most of my life,” she says, “and that informs how I approach relationships and how I open up to people emotionally and physically.”

Over time, she realized casual hookups weren’t for her. She’s turned on by people, she explains, but she can’t feel comfortable unless there’s an emotional connection, something that made celibacy feel like the more natural choice.

Like Steffi, for Ces, it’s less about restriction and more about peace of mind: not having to navigate the risks of pregnancy or STDs, not feeling pressured to move faster than she wants to, and reclaiming the right to decide who gets access to her body and when.

Celibacy, she adds, has deepened her relationship with herself. She’s learned what she likes, what she doesn’t, and how to care for her own pleasure.

A Growing Trend

More recently, Dra. Sánchez shares that amidst the buzz surrounding the Vogue article “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing?” and the rise of women attaining higher levels of academic and professional success, she’s noticed a trend among some of her clients who are choosing celibacy.

“My peace is worth much more currency than my sexual energy with a random man,” she says, echoing a sentiment that many of the women she works with now share, especially when it comes to dating.

The Benefits and Boundaries

When asked about the benefits of celibacy, Sánchez points to both physical and emotional rewards. “A clean bill of health, peace of mind,” she says, though she recommends keeping up with annual exams even when practicing celibacy. More importantly, she frames celibacy as an ongoing, personal decision that can change at any time.

“If you were celibate for three months and then decided to start having sex with your partner again, and after a month of that you thought, ‘You know what? I feel like a better person, a better version of myself when I’m celibate. I’m going to go back to being celibate,’ and your partner challenges that or doesn’t respect that decision—that person’s not for you,” she explains.

“You can go back to being celibate at any point you want,” she adds. “Celibacy is this beautiful, fluid spectrum.”

Reclaiming Choice

For women like Steffi and Ces, that spectrum is exactly the point. Celibacy isn’t about repression or shame—it’s about freedom, clarity, and self-preservation. In reclaiming what it means to say no, they’re also redefining what it means to choose themselves.