“Men are visual. Women are emotional.” Maybe you’ve heard this comparison before.
Growing up in the church during the height of the purity movement in the late ‘90s and early 2000s, I heard that comparison repeatedly. It shaped my understanding of temptation. I assumed women were far less likely to struggle with visual lust or pornography than men.
Statistically, that assumption appears largely true. A 2016 Barna study reported that twice as many male teens and young adults use pornography as female teens and young adults, and four times as many adult men (25+) report use compared to women.[1] The visual porn industry clearly understands its primary demographic.[2]
But what about that supposed “emotional” component of women’s wiring? If men often skew visual and women often skew relational (a generalization, yes, but one many recognize), and if the porn industry is so lucrative, would there not be a parallel market appealing to women?
Enter modern romance literature.
We’ve all seen the obvious versions sitting on store shelves—the overtly suggestive covers signaling what lies between the pages. Most Christian women know to steer clear of those. But what about the books that don’t advertise explicit content? What about the beautifully written fantasy series with complex storylines that quietly introduces graphic, open-door sex scenes deep into the narrative?
Thirty chapters into an immersive world, the slow-burn tension between enemies-turned-lovers culminates in a detailed bedroom scene. By book 3, those scenes are more frequent and more explicit. The male characters are attentive, dominant, emotionally intuitive, and perfectly attuned to the heroine’s desires.
Is this pornography?
Most would say no. And technically, it is not pornography in the traditional sense. Romance novels focus heavily on emotional development and relational arcs. Pornography, by contrast, centers almost exclusively on sexual stimulation with minimal character depth.
But here is the deeper question: When explicit content is consumed for sexual arousal, does the medium matter?
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches that lust is not confined to physical action but occurs in the heart (Matt. 5:28). The issue is not merely what we see—it is what we cultivate internally.
Hebrews 13:4 says, “Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled.” If we would readily call it sinful for a husband to consume explicit visual imagery, should we not examine our own intake of explicit written imagery?
I have heard women deeply wounded by their husband’s pornography addiction say, “I can never look like the women he’s seen. It’s unfair to be compared to those images.” That pain is very real.
But, ladies, what about the comparisons we are tempted to make?
If I regularly consume stories filled with hyper-attentive, unrealistically perfect male protagonists, am I slowly training my heart to compare my husband to fictional men crafted by female authors? Am I shaping expectations that no real man can fulfill? Comparison erodes gratitude. And gratitude is foundational to covenant love.
Proverbs 4:23 instructs us, “Guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” 1 Corinthians 6:18 tells believers to “flee from sexual immorality.” Not manage it. Not toe the line. Flee.
For a long time, I told myself I could simply skip the explicit chapters. I was toeing a line that was very dangerous. But I began to notice how quickly curiosity turned into justification. One scene became two. What was once uncomfortable became normalized. The slope was indeed slippery.
As opposed to pornography, the stated primary intent of many of these books is not sexual arousal. But when arousal becomes a significant byproduct—when scenes are written in explicit detail to stir desire—we must ask whether our hearts are being shaped in ways that honor Christ.
Philippians 4:8 exhorts us to dwell on what is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, and commendable. That is not a call to legalism. It is a call to intentionality. Intentionality in what we ingest, in how we spend our free time, in how we chose to interact with the world.
Sisters, this is not about shame. It is about wisdom.
The enemy rarely tempts us with something blatantly destructive at first. More often, he offers something wrapped in beauty, creativity, and emotional depth—with just enough compromise to dull our discernment over time.
We cannot afford to assume we are immune simply because our temptations may look different than men’s. The battleground of lust is the same: the heart.
Let us be women who pursue purity not out of fear, but out of love for Christ. Women who guard our marriages not only from obvious threats, but from subtle ones. Women who hunger more for righteousness than for emotional or sensual escape. Women who long to see him more than to indulge what slowly clouds our vision.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God” (Matt. 5:8).
Listen to a sermon on lust, adultery, and divorce.
[1] https://www.barna.com/research/porn-in-the-digital-age-new-research-reveals-10-trends/
[2] Barna released an updated report in 2024 (https://www.barna.com/webinars/beyond-the-porn-phenomenon/) which found that 44% of women report using porn, a 12% increase from the previous study.
