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We have a very strange relationship with sexually transmitted infections. On one hand, we tell people to get tested. We remind them that knowing their status is responsible and simply part of taking care of their health. On the other hand, the moment someone tests positive, we often treat them as some kind of social pariah.
Somewhere along the way, we confused getting an infection with being irresponsible.
This flawed outlook is one we need to fix.
An STI is a health issue, full stop. It doesn't say anything about your character, your values, or how "responsible" you are. People contract STIs in all kinds of circumstances and in all kinds of relationship configurations. An STI diagnosis tells you that an infection is present. It doesn't tell you anything about someone's character.
The real problem is that shame doesn't make anyone healthier or safer. It makes people less likely to get tested, less likely to seek treatment, and less likely to tell a partner what's going on.
If we actually care about public health, shame is a pretty terrible strategy. So let’s dig into the topic of STIs and try to peel back some of the layers of stigma.
Let's start with the basics.
An STI, or sexually transmitted infection, is an infection that can be passed through sexual contact. You might also hear the term STD, but many healthcare professionals (myself included) now prefer STI because you can have an infection without developing symptoms or have it progress into a disease. It's a small language shift, but an important one.
It's also worth remembering that "STI" isn't shorthand for one single experience.
It's easy to lump all STIs together, but that doesn't reflect reality. They're different infections with different ways of spreading, different testing protocols, and different treatment options. Some, including chlamydia and gonorrhea, are usually curable with medication. Others, like herpes and HIV, aren't curable but can often be managed so effectively that people go on to have healthy, fulfilling sex lives.
When we throw every STI into one giant pile labelled "terrifying," we lose the nuance people actually need. Better sexual health starts with accurate information, not fear.
If you've ever thought, "I'd know if someone had an STI," I promise you, you would not.
Many STIs don't cause symptoms at all, especially in the early stages. Someone can feel perfectly healthy, have no obvious signs of infection, and still test positive. That's one of the reasons regular screening matters.
When symptoms do show up, they can look very different depending on the infection. There may be unusual discharge, sores, bumps, itching, pain during urination, bleeding, pelvic pain, testicular pain, or even flu-like symptoms. Sometimes there are obvious signs. Sometimes there aren't. That's why assuming you’d just “know” isn't a reliable substitute for testing.
While we're busting myths, let's retire another one: You cannot tell someone's STI status by looking at them.
Not because someone looks healthy. Not because they're married. Not because they "don't seem like the type." Infections don't discriminate, even if people do. This myth really has to be thrown out with the trash.
One of the biggest sources of confusion around STIs is that people tend to lump them together, as though they all spread in exactly the same way.
Spoiler: They don't.
Some infections are transmitted through vaginal, anal, or oral sex via bodily fluids. Others, including herpes, syphilis, and HPV, can spread through skin-to-skin sexual contact. Sharing penetrative toys without cleaning them properly or not changing barriers between users or body parts can also transmit certain infections. HIV and hepatitis B may also be transmitted through shared injection equipment, and some infections can be passed during pregnancy or birth.
In a nutshell: It’s highly varied.
What isn't a risk? Hugging your partner. Holding hands. Sharing a toilet seat. Borrowing someone's coffee mug. Watching Netflix and cuddling.
Those myths have been around forever, but they aren't grounded in reality. The more accurate information we have, the easier it is to protect our health while not being assholes to people around us.
One of the reasons people get so anxious about sexual health is because we've been taught to think in absolutes. Either you're "safe," or you're not.
That's not really how risk works, friends.
Safer sex is about stacking different layers of protection based on your body, your partners, and the kinds of sex you're having. That might include condoms, internal condoms, barriers for oral sex, lubricant, regular testing, fresh barriers on shared toys, HPV and hepatitis B vaccination, or HIV PrEP. You don't need every tool every time. You need the combination that makes sense for your life.
Condoms are one of the best tools we have for reducing the risk of many STIs and preventing unintended pregnancy. The mistake is expecting them to offer absolute protection against every possible infection. That's simply not how risk reduction works.
If you're using condoms, choosing one that feels comfortable can make a real difference in whether you'll actually want to use it consistently. Options like LELO HEX Condoms are designed to make barrier use feel more natural, but they're still just one part of a broader safer-sex toolkit.
One phrase I hear all the time is, "Can’t I just be tested for everything so I know what’s going on?"
It's a completely reasonable request. The catch is that "everything" isn't actually a test. And standard STI panels don’t always include every STI.
There isn't one universal STI screen that automatically checks for every infection. What gets tested depends on a number of factors, including what kinds of sex you've had, which parts of the body were involved, whether you're experiencing symptoms, and when a possible exposure happened.
For example, if you've had oral sex, a urine sample alone isn't going to tell you whether you have an infection in your throat. Likewise, rectal infections require rectal swabs to be detected. And don’t get me started on herpes. You can’t even be reliably tested for herpes unless you’re having an outbreak. I know, sorry.
It's also possible to test too soon after an exposure to an STI, before an infection is detectable.
That's why it's important to be honest with your healthcare provider about your sexual history. The more they know about the kinds of sexual contact you've had, the better they can recommend the right tests.
One of the most useful questions you can ask is: Which infections are you testing me for, and when will the results be reliable? Knowing exactly what you're being screened for is far more useful than assuming you've been tested for "everything."
First things first, don't panic.
A positive STI test is simply information. That's it. It's information you can use to make decisions about your health, get appropriate treatment or management, and protect your partners. It is not the end of your sex life, your relationships, or your desirability.
What happens next depends on the infection. Some STIs can be treated and cured with medication. Others can be managed very effectively over time. Your healthcare provider will explain what treatment looks like, whether you should avoid sexual contact while you're being treated, and when it's safe to resume sexual activity.
You'll also need to think about recent partners who may have been exposed. Nobody looks forward to having this conversation, but reframing it can help. You're not admitting wrongdoing here, folx. You're sharing information that allows someone else to make informed decisions about their health. Depending on the infection and where you live, anonymous partner notification services may also be available.
One thing that doesn't get said often enough: if someone responds to your diagnosis with humiliation, threats, cruelty, or public shaming, that's not an appropriate response. An STI diagnosis doesn't justify abuse, and nobody deserves to be treated that way. If this happens, we block them and we move on with our lives. Bar none.
Can we finally retire the question, "Are you clean?" It really gives me the ick.
Besides reinforcing the harmful idea that people with STIs are somehow "dirty," it doesn't actually tell you very much.
A far more useful conversation sounds something like this: When were you last tested? What were you tested for? Have you had any new partners or possible exposures since then? Are you vaccinated against HPV and hepatitis B? What kinds of barriers do you usually like to use? Those questions might not sound especially sexy, but they're infinitely more helpful than trying to decide whether someone "looks safe."
Just as importantly, these conversations should go both ways.
One person shouldn't be expected to answer every intimate question while the other stays silent. Sexual health works best when it's a two-way conversation, with both people sharing information and making informed decisions together.
We spend so much time talking about STIs as though they're something to fear that we rarely talk about what good sexual health actually looks like. It looks like getting tested when it's appropriate. It looks like asking questions instead of making assumptions. It looks like using the prevention tools that make sense for your life and your relationships. And yes, sometimes it looks like getting an STI and dealing with it without letting shame take over.
Sexual health deserves to be taken seriously, but shame has never made anyone healthier. Accurate information, access to healthcare, and honest conversations with our partners do. The less judgment we attach to STIs, the more likely people are to get tested, treated, and ask for help when they need it.
By Gigi Engle, Certified Sex Educator. Author of All The F*cking Mistakes.
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