When my friend introduced me to pop artist Chappell Roan this past April, I had no idea who she was. Now, nearly six months later, I hear about Chappell Roan (the stage name for Kayleigh Rose Amstutz) daily. From drawing massive crowds at Lollapalooza to having one of the most streamed albums of the summer, Roan’s quick rise to fame has been impressive.
My friend described Roan as the “situationship singer.” A “situationship” a term coined by Generation Z, is a noncommittal or undefined romantic or sexual relationship. “Casual,” the fifth track on Roan’s The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, grieves a situationship. In it, Roan describes a relationship that fails to evolve into something beyond a pattern of casual, sexual encounters. There’s a confession in Roan’s bridge that’s so honest and unexpected, that it took me by surprise upon first listen. She says, “I try to be the chill girl that / Holds her tongue and gives you space / I try to be the chill girl but / Honestly, I’m not.”
For those who grew up in the conservative Christian world as Roan did, lamenting casual sex is familiar territory. But Roan and other Gen Zers aren’t lamenting casual sex, hookup culture, or situationships because they believe their “sexual purity” is tied to their salvation. Rather, they seem to be lamenting a sex-positive culture that doesn’t live up to the hype.
I want to approach sex from the perspective of my Christian faith, but I also recognize how damaging Christian messages about sex have been — especially for women, queer people, and people of color.
As Jennifer C. Martin notes in her review of Christine Emba’s Rethinking Sex, popular Christian messages around sexual purity have left many who grew up in that culture feeling guilt and shame. From Martin’s perspective, the solution isn’t putting more restrictions on sex or decrying casual sex but prioritizing consent, creating emotional boundaries, and emphasizing sexual liberation. While I agree on the importance of consent, boundaries, and liberation, I can’t help but notice how dissatisfied young adults in my generation — both religious and non-religious — are with a sexual culture that already seems to endorse these values.
All of this leads me to wonder if there is a Christian approach to sex that doesn’t revive its most damaging messages while also recognizing and addressing the dissatisfaction many Gen Zers currently face when it comes to cultural messages about sex.
I see this dissatisfaction all over my social media accounts. Some airing their frustrations about dating, others poking fun at demoralizing situationships. Thousands of comments echo these experiences. While this is purely anecdotal, I even hear my friends — some who grew up in church and some who did not — expressing deep regret over their participation in casual sex, hookup culture, or situationships.
In 2017, sociologist Lisa Wade gave us more insight into this phenomenon. After studying campus hookup culture in the U.S., she concluded that, “The majority of students would prefer more meaningful connections with others. They want an easier path toward forming committed, loving relationships. Most would also be glad if their casual relationships were a little less competitive and [a] lot kinder.”
I get the feeling when listening to “Casual” that Roan is dealing with a lover who’s honest about their intentions (“You said ‘baby, no attachment’”) but unkind, nonetheless. Roan also seems embarrassed to admit her true feelings for this person. The bridge tells us how she’s tried to treat sex casually (“I try to be the chill girl”) and how, despite all her efforts, she yearns for more (“but honestly, I’m not”). Roan isn’t some embarrassing anomaly for feeling what she feels. The physiological realities of sex validate her plea for something deeper. Research shows that chemicals like oxytocin, vasopressin, and dopamine all contribute to the connection we feel to others during sex. There is a real process of bonding going on that we’re usually not aware of and can’t control.
But while science tells us that sex really can connect us, the dominant narrative in our culture tells us it is possible to approach sex from a disconnected perspective.
I feel compelled to take the science seriously, even as I consider the messages about sex from my evangelical upbringing that I would like to reject.
Like Martin, I also grew up hearing that my salvation was directly tied to my sexuality. These kinds of messages have had real consequences for those of us who grew up evangelical in the ’90s and early 2000s. Even though I no longer subscribe to purity culture messages, I still have apprehensions about casual sex that are influenced by my faith. My apprehensions have everything to do with my belief that Christians should work to treat people justly and refuse to give in to our culture’s knack for dehumanization.
Considering Gen Z’s passion for justice and being in just relationships, churches should avoid preaching simplistic messages about sex that ostensibly boil down to “just say no.” Instead, they should preach messages that critique sex-shaming while also encouraging congregants to be curious about themselves and their partners. Human beings are worthy of this deep discovery.
Roan’s music might not explicitly say this, but at the core of “Casual” is a desire to be fully known and valued. This is a universal human desire that cannot be satisfied when we approach each other with shame or apathy. Ultimately, it doesn’t feel like a question of purity culture or sex-positive culture but of whether we’re honoring the wholeness and humanity of ourselves and others when we agree to have sex.
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