Procreation. Performance. Pleasure. How we have sex is one of the most fascinating and frightening conversations.

Dozens of people of all ages embraced these fears and told USA TODAY about their sex lives and sexual awakenings (or lack thereof): One young woman's college friend group imploded because of a sex scandal. A baby boomer is having the best sex of his life − in his 60s. And a man said his mother bought his wife the same sex toy she has.

But does each generation think and talk about sex differently? Somewhat, and that has a lot to do with what they were, or weren't, taught. Not to mention how larger societal shifts influenced the youngest generations across decades – world war, the sexual revolution, AIDS, #MeToo, social media.

Our beliefs about sex and marriage have shifted tremendously over the years – both a reflection and a driver of how we talk about sex. In 1960, for example, 72% of adults were married. That dropped to 51% by 2011. By 2022, only about a quarter of Americans were married, according to U.S. census estimates. And in 1996, just 27% of Americans supported same-sex marriage, while a quarter-century later that support jumped to 70% in 2021.

Baby boomers went in search of sex at Woodstock with minimal sexual education. Gen X groped at grunge festivals and in the back seats of cars as the AIDS crisis revealed sex's potential deadly consequences. Millennials found abstinence-only lesson plans in school at odds with the bountiful, never-ending pornography lurking on the internet. And Gen Z just thinks they know better than those before them – and in turn may not be having as much sex.

Plus, for young people today coming of age in a post-MeToo era, consent is a spoken-aloud part of sexual interactions, yet a large portion of the population grew up in a time before the phrase "no means no" even had meaning.

Take all this into account and it's no wonder people of different generations struggle to relate on the topic of sex. Despite all we know about sex and orgasms through research, many still don’t know how to talk about it. The only solution, then, is to find common ground and talk about it anyway. Because much like having sex, talking about sex is all about finding that sweet spot to satisfaction.

The privilege of learning about sex

Perhaps someone handed you a book about sex, told you to flip through it and asked if you had any questions. Or a classmate first whispered about it at school. Or worse – no one told you a thing.

A lot of that depends on your generation. Though sex education has been around for more than 100 years, some see it as still not adequate in all 50 states, depending on whom you ask. Baby boomers were lucky if anyone told them about sex by the time they were fiddling with belt buckles and bra straps. Gen Xers watched movies that drove conversation. Comprehensive sex ed guidelines were only published in 1991 by the interest group SIECUS, meaning millennials were likely the first to receive such intel. And Gen Z and beyond are therefore more informed than everyone else – though to this day, only 30 states and the District of Columbia actually require sex ed.

Not everyone's parents even try broaching the subject, despite research indicating the benefits of ongoing discussions. Chantel Solomon says her mother first talked to her about sex when the Gen Xer got her period at 12 years old.

The problem is that not talking about it implies it's something to be ashamed of, says Rabbi Igael Gurin-Malous, 49, an expert in LGBTQ+ issues in addition to religious studies. "Our proclivities become secret, our desires become secret, our fetishes become secret ... because of our inability to actually acknowledge that not only is this just part of life, but that it is part of the way that we communicate with other people."

How older generations learned about sex

For every boomer who slept their way through high school and college with nothing but stories passed down from peer to peer, another may have received a robust education from their parents. Generally, though, sex was less talked about back then.

Susan, who requested that her last name not be published, says her mother explained where babies came from –though she focused on the reproductive aspects as opposed to enjoyment. A baby boomer, she remembers a boy tried to kiss her in seventh grade, but she fended him off and went home crying. Her father was a Holocaust survivor, and her parents always emphasized keeping her virginity for marriage – that "Fiddler on the Roof" mentality, as she puts it, where the objective was to find a nice Jewish man to settle down with and avoid premarital sex – something she maintained until college.

In the 1960s and later, the "free love" movement began and shifted attitudes. Just 53% of people found sex between an unmarried man and woman morally acceptable in 2001. That number was 71% 20 years later.

But even in Susan's day, in high school, "we'd hang out at a friend's house, and different couples would go into one of the bedrooms and have sex." One of her friends was bisexual and regularly discussed sleeping with men and women. The '70s, as Susan puts it, was a very free time.

Amy Baden remembers everyone sleeping together in the early '80s, "and there was no manual." She adds: "I wish I would have known to keep trying different things, as I grew up. But it's OK, because I found my winner": her wife.

Gurin was visiting the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop in New York in the 1980s as a teenager – the first gay and lesbian bookstore on the East Coast – when a man cruised him − invited him for sex. It was (and remains) a common practice among gay men looking to engage in discreet sex. The two went to a park, and because of his lack of sexual education, Gurin thought he immediately had AIDS after the man only touched his penis. (When contracted through sex, HIV is primarily spread through anal or vaginal intercourse.)

But Dr. Laurie Perrin's mother gave the Gen Xer uncharacteristically solid advice: "If you're going to do adult acts, you have to act like an adult. And there are places like Planned Parenthood that you can go to get protection." Perrin took that advice and went with her boyfriend at the time to get birth control.

The sex talk is changing

Many Gen X and millennial parents are trying to take a different approach to talking about sex with their children.

Gen Xer Kristin Hensley has gone all-in on talking about sex with her seventh grader, even documenting a quiz session with him about the reproductive system. Spoiler alert: He answered questions faster than she did, and got them right.

"If you stick to doing things in steps, it's much better than this idea that you're going to tell your kids everything in third grade," she says. "That doesn't feel fair or right. That's not taking into consideration their age and what they can handle."

Jen Smedley, also of Gen X, wants her Gen Alpha children (ages 11 and 9) to be comfortable talking with her about it.

"I want my kids to be able to come to me with anything and feel like that I'm a safe place to do all of that," she says. "So I'm going to get better about the sex talk and gender and all of that stuff because I know it's very real. They probably know way more about it than I do. They can teach me."

That might very well be the case, says Neha Prabhu, sex therapist.

"Gen Z's accessibility to media, the internet, and psychoeducation have profound impacts on their relationship with sex," Prahbu explains. "On one hand, they have been exposed to sexual imagery, content and information at a far earlier age than previous generations, especially boomers. With this access, they have also been given the privilege to understand (and) explore their sexuality in ways that previous generations have not been afforded."

Ray Epstein, of Gen Z, for example, turned to Google to learn about being a lesbian (she would later come out as bisexual, where the majority of LGBTQ+ Gen Zers identify).

She has always been cool with talking to her Gen X mother about sex – heterosexual sex, that is. "I know she'd be fine with discussing lesbian sex with me, but it's not something I've ever felt compelled to ask questions to her about, as she is straight," Epstein says.

How younger generations learn about sex

But is having more access to resources and more openness making a difference? Gen Z is actually having less sex, according to research, like millennials before them. A 2016 study found that 15% of millennials born in the 1990s between the ages of 20 and 24 hadn't had any sexual partners since age 18, compared with just 6% of Gen Xers born in the 1960s when they were in the same age group.

In 2021, 30% of teens said they had sex, compared with 38% in 2019, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

But having less sex doesn't mean Gen Z is anywhere near prude. According to a 2023 Pew Research study, more than half of people under 30 are comfortable with open marriages, for example, as opposed to 41% of those ages 30 to 49 (millennials and a sliver of Gen X).

"Gen Zs are significantly more open-minded, accepting and tolerant when it comes to diverse sexual orientations, experiences, relationship types and sexual communication as compared to other older generations," says Tara Suwinyattichaiporn, an associate professor in the Department of Human Communication Studies at California State University, Fullerton.

The same, however, can't be said for millennials, she said. "Millennials grew up watching their parents being secretive about sex and learning about sex from internet porn, so a lot of millennials experience sexual shame and anxiety toward sexual communication." Even if millennial parents are stepping out of their comfort zones to talk to their kids about sex, it doesn't mean they are having those same, open conversations with their partners.

How millennials are talking about sex

Still, millennials are certainly talking about sex with their friends. For the young parents in that group, it is often becoming a conversation surrounding a lack of sex. For others, it's exploring what their lives could look like outside traditional relationship structures. Think open relationships or simply dating around rather than striving for marriage, or at least a monogamous one.

And others are just trying to figure out how to stay together as boredom has invaded the bedroom.

"I'm having the same type of sex with my husband, like same position all the time," says Jennifer, a millennial who requested her last name not be published. "Like, we know it works with each other. But I think it's a challenge as we stay together and plan to stay monogamous to try to figure out how to make things more interesting and be more responsive to each other's needs."

That's because "there is often this conflict for folks in their 30s and 40s that they have 'seen it all,' but they often lack good tools to make use of the information they have, especially in relationships," says Sheila Addison, a family and marriage therapist.

But some had more open conversations growing up. Alex, a millennial who requested his last name not be published, remembers having a crush on a girl when he was 5 or 6 years old. His mom – a psychologist – told him it was OK for boys to like boys and girls to like girls, in case he ever felt that way. "I just remember distinctly saying, 'Nope, I really like girls, and this is who I like,'" he says. He remains close to his mother – so close that the first time his now-wife ever met his mom, within 15 minutes, they were talking about orgasms.

He's passing along that same sexual openness to his son, who's 7 years old. "I know how you were born, because I was there," Alex told him. "And what happens is a man puts his penis inside of a vagina, and we have something called eggs, much like a chicken, but it's very, very small, and that stays inside of the woman's belly for many months, and it starts to grow into a baby." He assured his son they'd go into more details as he grew up.

Part of this means calling a penis or vagina for what they are, parents think, not by any kind of nicknames, which could sow more confusion.

Consent is a big part of today's sex talk

Younger generations are much more sensitive to consent today than their parents' generations and are passing it along to their children. Gen Z and Alpha are growing up with consent as an inherent part of the conversation. Many colleges in a Title IX world now even require consent and harassment workshops to register for classes. They're a mainstay in workplaces, too.

But consent starts young – explaining it to toddlers so they understand it later. For children, the focus is on body autonomy. As they get older, that's when its relevance to sex comes in.

Epstein, who was a victim of sexual abuse, also suggests emphasizing to children that it's OK to say no to hugs or other forms of physical contact to help them learn they control their body boundaries.

"Kids always feel like they have to say yes, like somebody wants to hug you. You have to hug them because they're the adult. They want to hug you. ... I think in my generation, it just really failed me, and everybody around me."

Epstein, 21, didn't receive consent education until she was 17. So when her middle school boyfriend threatened to kill himself if she didn't stroke his penis, she didn't understand what was going on.

"I just felt really uncomfortable, but I didn't really understand what I was doing," she says.

He later tried to force himself on her. "I didn't know that it was wrong if I was saying 'no' over and over and over, or that if someone's threatening to kill themselves, that's also not OK."

Has sex changed? Have we?

Is the internet to blame?

Laurie Mintz, therapist and author of "Becoming Cliterate," adds: "Among my students, I am also seeing more 'scary' sex especially faced by women. For example, there is a rise in nonconsensual choking, hair pulling and the like. Much of this is attributed to role modeling from porn."

Addison, the family and marriage therapist, says: "We have to acknowledge that this online world where many younger folks are finding more freedom and information and community is also where another group, mostly young white straight cis men, is getting radicalized … by groups who are amplifying and encouraging young men to endorse very hostile and toxic attitudes toward women."

But stories of sexual assault and rape echo across generations and long predate internet pornography.

"Sex is so hard because it's ... power," says Monique Jonath, 21. "From a historical gender roles standpoint, sex has been a way of asserting patriarchal power for as long as it's been around."

But sex also means vulnerability. Jonath has watched sex create and destroy entire friend groups.

Jonath encountered a friend who talked to her mom about sex and was floored. They could not fathom having that conversation with their Congolese mother. But they haven't had trouble talking to all older relatives.

For a school project, "I interviewed my aunt, who's in her early 60s, about her sex life," Jonath says, "and was continuously so shocked at how openly and shamelessly she recounted her thoughts and experiences. I felt so connected to her because I learned about how she had navigated these deeply human and intimate moments. I found that we often had the same thought processes and reactions when faced with a similar situation, which was so oddly comforting."

Sex evolves as we do

Susan says having an orgasm isn't as easy in your 60s. Her friends even gave her lube for her birthday. Darrell, who requested his last name not be published, is enjoying sex more than ever as he pushes 70. Part of that comes from partners who are comfortable talking about it.

"There's a different openness that – I don't know how much of that's me and how much of that is the women I've been with – that I didn't really experience years ago. It was sort of less talking about it. Now there's just more, just talking. What's working, what's not, what do you want to do? What do you feel like doing? What do you really not feel like doing? It can just be very overt without it having to be cloaked in this kind of mysterious veil of 'we'll see what happens.' It doesn't have to be that way."

HIV was a big breakthrough in terms of talking about sex for baby boomers and Gen X, because it was the first time that for many there was something out there that could kill you through sex. It forced people to confront the fact that homosexuality and anal sex were real and happening.

The queer community suddenly started to have to use condoms. "We had to change the way that we had sex," says Tori Cooper, a Gen Xer who is director of the Human Rights Campaign's Trans Justice Initiative. "And there was a lot of stigma around just having sex and the type that you were having. I imagine that for some younger people that could be what they're experiencing now, similar types of stigma."

Why is it so hard – or easy, for some – to talk about sex?

Yes, it's difficult to talk about sex and even more difficult to do so without also talking about gender and sexuality. The two have grown inextricably linked, especially in the past few decades for younger generations as the LGBTQ+ community has received more legal wins and favorability among Americans, followed by an inevitable backlash to progress. Support for same-sex marriage is already waning ever so slightly – and more pronounced among Republicans – though younger generations remain more in favor.

Epstein feels comfortable talking about heterosexual sex with her friends – straight and queer alike – but lesbian sex feels uncomfortable and dirty.

"It almost feels objectifying in this way, to talk about a woman and talk about doing stuff with a woman, and I'm still trying to get over that, because I know it's just from the way I grew up, not that my parents weren't really supportive, but from all of the other people around me," she says.

When people come to intimacy expert and psychologist Jacqueline Sherman's practice, they often want to explore their sexuality and deepen intimacy with their partner. A lot of what's holding them back is some of the religious views ingrained from a young age.

Chantel Solomon, of Gen X, grew up Mormon and struggled with her sexuality her whole life, whether it was out of guilt for liking and kissing boys and having her first time with a woman.

"I feel like it's a constant battle for me to be in my body and enjoy it. And maybe if I had access to more tools or the internet, it would have been different," she says.

If she could go back and give herself advice? "I would tell myself to explore myself and my own body. Don't feel bad for exploring your own body."

The overall solution may be, generally, more talking. To yourself, to your partner, to friends, to mental health professionals.

"Without talking about it, you won't know (your partner's) perspective, their sexual preferences, how they feel about certain sexual acts, how they feel about having sex in long-term relationships and so forth," Suwinyattichaiporn says. "Therefore, sexual communication is essential."