Whether it's people squicked out by pornography (like the author who didn't want a review of his book to run in Penthouse) or the umpteen kinds of slut-shaming that happen in big and small ways, we haven't quite moved past thinking we know what's best for others when it comes to sex.

Recently, a debate sprang up after Dr. Stanley Siegel wrote a piece called “In Defense of Casual Sex” with a follow-up called “Why I Advocate for Casual Sex”. He brought up lots of good points about exactly how “casual” that kind of sex is and why there’s important lessons to be learned from it: “Upon turning sixty-five, I recognize that casual sex has often been as intimate for me as were the two long-term relationships I have had. Unencumbered by a complex commitment, the freedom found in casual sex allowed me to move beyond self-consciousness and achieve a level of honesty and authenticity for myself, and my partner, in a way previously unknown to me.”

I’ve had my share of commitment-free sex that was just as powerful for me as sex within a relationship, but I don’t think that one is better than the other or right for everyone. We live in a culture that tells us that sex within a heterosexual, monogamous relationship is the best (and for some, the only acceptable) form of sex, so even contemplating the enjoyment of casual sex dares to go against that way of thinking. However, that doesn’t mean that casual sex is necessarily “good” for you.

I think part of the reason casual sex continues to be controversial, to the extent that it is, is that we don’t always know what the other person we’re engaging in casual sex wants from it. A one-night stand? An ongoing fuck-buddy relationship? Something almost like a relationship but not calling someone boyfriend or girlfriend? Once we know what we want, the next question is how we communicate that.

At The Good Men Project, Julie Gillis wrote about our lack of true dialogue with our sex partners. “If we start with a presumption that sex is high stakes, it’s important, it’s a connection of some sort between two people, then how is it that the conversations around sex are so limited and clumsy? Why not have those high-stakes moments more prepared for, more thought through, more discussed?”

This situation — where you’re going to or are having sex with a someone but haven’t discussed the boundaries and parameters — is one I’ve been in more times than I can count. I’d like to think that I’m open-minded when it comes to talking about sex, but one of the reasons I usually don’t have those conversations is because a form of wishful thinking sets in. I know the vision I have for the other person and our relationship, and it’s much easier to assume they share that vision than tackle the nitty-gritty discussions over whether we are on the same page, not just about sex, but about our lives and values. I’m at a stage in my life where those are things I want to know before I sleep with someone; it’s part of why I recently removed myself from an online dating site I was using; trying to discern all those things in that form was too daunting.

One friend suggested to me that I not sleep with anyone until we’re in a committed relationship. Certainly, it’s extremely retro-sounding advice, and trust me, she is not a retro or sexually conservative person. But that idea has stuck with me, because I’ve had more than my share of sex that, no matter how good it was in the moment, left me feeling more alone at the end of it. It’s hard to figure out how compatible you might be with someone until you’ve actually spent enough time with them to base that decision on more than what you want to see, not to mention that when you’re just getting to know someone, they are likely selectively sharing who they are, not out of malice, but self-preservation. I certainly do the same thing, because I don’t want to share my deepest, darkest secrets on a second date, which makes it all the more ironic that I might share my body with someone.

In her book Become Your Own Matchmaker, reality TV star Patti Stanger advocates not sleeping with guys because, she claims, the bond of oxytocin will pull a woman toward a man, even if he’s bad news. She tweeted, “One good orgasm & you could be bonded to a loser” (and was retweeted by over 100 people!). I don’t agree that oxytocin is the culprit, but I think we need to, firstly, make room for everyone’s sexual behavior patterns. We also need to look at our own sexual histories and figure out what, truly, we want, and then pursue it. I’ve gotten myself in trouble because while I do have a vision for what I want, I’m often so needy and malleable that I go along with someone else’s vision; because I either don’t think I can get what I want, don’t think I deserve it, or figure that whatever someone is offering is the next best thing.

So my title here is a bit of a misnomer, because I don’t think any form of sex is necessarily “good” or “bad.” It might be right at a given time in your life, and wrong in another. It’s also important to learn and grow from sexual experiences we wouldn’t want to repeat, rather than simply lament that they happened. I’ve done way too much lamenting and wondering, Why didn’t I know how this was going to play out? That’s never going to help in the present. It might always work for some people, and never work for others. For me, so much of my life is in flux, and my sexuality is right there along with it. Adjusting to changes in my career has made me less focused on my personal life, though I hope that getting my affairs, so to speak, in order will ultimately be beneficial to me forming the kind of relationship I do ultimately want.