Some words arrive with noise. “Empowerment” is one of them. Sometimes it is interpreted as a threat, as if it speaks of a struggle, of someone taking power over someone else. But in its most intimate—and most useful—sense, empowerment is not competing. It is recovering autonomy. It is returning to yourself.
Sexologist Lyzzeth Alvarado defines it with a phrase that organizes the topic without fanfare: living a free, healthy, and pleasurable sexuality. That definition does not point outwards; it does not accuse, does not invade, and does not intend to control anyone. It is more like a compass than a flag. And perhaps that is why it makes people uncomfortable: because it does not ask for permission.
In theory, we might think the issue is resolved. That we are in the 21st century, that a framework of rights exists, that “on paper” there is equality. The question speaks for itself: if we are already equal before the law, why continue talking about sexual empowerment?
Because the law does not rest on your back.
In real life, many women live in an inequality that does not always take the form of explicit prohibition, but of routine. It seeps into the distribution of time, exhaustion, tasks, and emotional availability. And that life—real life—also enters the bedroom. In other words: sexuality does not live in an isolated compartment. It is part of the same body that works, cares, decides, gets worn out, sustains itself, and sustains others.
One of the most revealing ideas Alvarado raises is this: the social system, especially in a good part of Latin America, has been constructed with a perspective that prioritizes masculine needs. Therefore, even though rights exist, the conditions to exercise them with the same freedom do not always exist. The working world, for example, is not designed to support the project of mothering or raising children without cost. And even when a woman is not a mother, she often carries care tasks: elderly parents, extended family, domestic organization. It is invisible labor that is taken for granted and yet consumes real energy.
That exhaustion has erotic consequences. Not as punishment or as a “lack of love,” but as physiology and context. Many times, desire is not broken: it simply runs out of space.
The scene is common, and for that very reason deserves to be named. Two people work outside the home. They return. And inside the home, the burden is distributed unequally. Soon, she is exhausted; he perceives distance; the complaint appears: “it’s not like it used to be”. The question, “what happened?” is answered with something uncomfortable to accept: life happened… but life weighed more heavily on one side than the other.
Talking about sexual empowerment, then, is not just talking about practices, techniques, or “improving intimacy” as one would improve a habit. It is talking about autonomy and everyday justice. It is acknowledging that sexuality is crossed by economics, roles, education, parenting, social expectations, and that cultural inheritance that still dictates to us—men and women—how one should love.
That inheritance also explains another frequent misunderstanding: that sexual empowerment will bring libertinism, disorder, or “the end of the species”. Alvarado responds to these alarms with an essential reminder: human sexuality is inherent to every person from the womb until death. Talking about sexuality is talking about health. Denying it does not eliminate it; it only leaves a void that is filled with poor information, myths, and distorted references.
Among those references, one weighs more than we admit: pornography assumed as sexual education. There is no need to demonize it to recognize the risk. When it becomes a manual, it manufactures unreal standards, rigid scripts, and impossible expectations. And in that script, female pleasure usually appears poorly explained or reduced to a foreign map. That is why it is important to say it clearly and without spectacle: for many women, pleasure is related more to clitoral stimulation than to penetration. The obvious, sometimes, needs to be said aloud to stop being ignored.
But perhaps the heart of this issue is not only in the body; it is also in the language. Empowerment is built with words: those a woman allows herself to say, those she learned to silence, those she fears will make her “too much” or “incorrect”. Over generations, we were taught to take up less space: less voice, less desire, less ambition, less discomfort. We were educated to give love by diminishing ourselves. Meanwhile, many men were taught that loving is providing, sustaining financially, solving; not necessarily listening, accompanying, opening up, or showing fragility.
That imbalance does not only harm women. It also constructs tense masculinities, pressured not to feel, not to cry, not to doubt; and that pressure, without emotional work, can turn into aggression. It is not about justifying violence, but about understanding its roots to be able to change the origin, not just put out the fire.
And how do you change something like this without turning it into a permanent battle? By building bridges. Not from attack, but from effective communication. Communicating not to convince, but to understand. Understanding the other’s perspective does not mean adopting it; it means seeing it clearly. And from there, deciding.
Here appears a proposal as simple as it is powerful: using art and play as mediators. Stories, images, metaphors, gentle humor. Ways of speaking without sudden exposure. Ways of opening conversation in families where the topic is still perceived as a threat. Not to relativize what is important, but to allow the truth to circulate without fear.
Being the owner of your intimacy does not mean always being in the mood, or “being fine” all the time, or meeting a standard for an ideal sexual life. It means being able to name yourself. Being able to say what you want, what you don’t, what connects you, what disconnects you. Being able to recognize that your desire is not a duty, but a language. And if that language goes silent, it is worth asking about the context first before blaming the body.
Ultimately, empowerment is returning to yourself: to your right to decide, your right to know, your right to feel secure. Not to dominate anyone, but to avoid being dominated by inherited silences.
And if any of this resonated with you, perhaps the most honest question is not “how do I fix it?”, but this: what would need to change in my daily life for my desire to have space?
We invite you to watch the complementary video “Owner of Your Intimacy” where we interview Lyzzeth Alvarado on this topic: https://youtu.be/ec6E9nQMIGY
