Ladies, lube is not your competition — it’s your companion

If sex is for pleasure, and not performance, why is everyone up in arms about a little lube?

It all started, as so many things do these days, with a tweet — or rather, two tweets that got the internet buzzing.

There was a lighthearted, playful exchange that many found funny. But beneath the laughs was a very real and widely shared belief: that if you’re aroused enough, you shouldn’t need lube. The quiet, uncomfortable undertone was a judgment — that if you do need it, something must be wrong with your body. That your vagina isn’t working properly. That you’re not turned on enough. That you’re somehow less than. This isn’t just insecurity; it’s a myth that many of us have absorbed, a silent shame we need to dismantle.

But let’s be real. Your vagina isn’t a mood ring, and lube isn’t a judgment — it’s an asset. This isn’t just about a couple of viral tweets; it’s about a deeply ingrained misunderstanding of pleasure. We’ve been handed a script — a glossy, airbrushed version of sex, often from porn, where vaginas are magically, endlessly wet and bodies are always “ready.” There’s no awkward pause, no fumbling for a bottle, just a seamless, frictionless slide into pleasure. But that’s a performance. It’s a fantasy built for the camera, and it has no business being the yardstick for your real, embodied, messy, and beautiful experiences.

Read also: Oral sex is not dirty, it is even more intimate than sex

Pornography’s influence on women’s discomfort around lube

Let’s talk about that yardstick. For many of us, porn shaped our earliest ideas about sex. We saw perpetually ready bodies, with no need for the practicalities of real-life intimacy. The narrative is simple: arousal equals instant, abundant lubrication. Anything less is a failure. 

This myth sets women up to feel inadequate before they even start. It creates a pressure to perform, to be a certain way, to prove their own desire by how their body responds. But arousal is so much more than a physical reaction. It’s a complex dance of hormones, emotions, and context. 

You can feel intense mental and emotional arousal, yet your body might not produce enough lubrication for comfortable, friction-free sex. That’s not a failing; it’s a biological fact. It’s a normal, human experience.

Read also: Nigeria’s proposed ban on pornography has sparked our deep introspection on how it differs from eroticism

Lube enhances the experience when you’re aroused 

Think of lube not as a replacement for your natural wetness, but as an enhancement. It’s a co-pilot on the journey to pleasure. It’s about being proactive and compassionate with your body, not reactive and ashamed. When you bring lube into the equation, you’re not admitting a failure; you’re elevating the experience.

Here’s what using lube does for you:

• It reduces friction, preventing discomfort and the tiny, often unseen, tears that can happen to the delicate tissues of the vagina or anus.
• It supports your body through hormonal shifts. Whether it’s postpartum, menopause, or the use of certain contraceptives, these changes can affect your natural lubrication. Lube ensures you don’t have to sacrifice pleasure because of biology.
• It makes things feel better. Using lube with sex toys, fingers, or a penis can intensify sensation and make everything smoother and more enjoyable.
•  It extends pleasure during longer sessions. Sometimes, the journey is just as important as the destination, and lube keeps things comfortable for the long haul.

Choosing to use lube is an act of radical self-love. It’s you telling your body, “I see you, I hear you, and I’m going to make sure this feels incredible for you.”

Read also: Girl, get on top: A fat girl’s guide with scintillating sex

Pleasure is the goal, not performance

At its core, societal pressure on women to perform sexually drives much of the resistance to lube. We’re taught that our desirability is a performance — that we need to look sexy, sound sexy, and respond on command. We’re taught that if our bodies don’t do the “right things” at the “right time,” we are somehow less than.

But sex isn’t a test. It’s not a performance. It’s an intimate, vulnerable experience. A conversation between two (or more) bodies and souls, where your pleasure should be the main topic.

So, the next time you or your partner reaches for the lube, reframe that moment in your mind. This isn’t a failure. It’s a flex. It’s a declaration that you know your body, you care about how sex feels more than how it’s supposed to look, and you are unapologetically showing up for your own pleasure. And darling, that is more than enough.