Decolonizing Intimacy: How Design, Culture, and Community Reclaim Our Sexual Lives

In a world where our most personal moments are increasingly commodified and framed by binary norms, a growing movement is turning to the wisdom of indigenous and African traditions, the practice of design, and the power of community to reclaim what feels most authentic and liberating. This article distills a recent conversation with Ida Miriam Davis, author, cultural strategist, and advocate for decolonized design, into practical insights and reflections on how we can re‑invent our intimate lives on our own terms.

The Question That Sets the Stage: “Is Our Bad Sex Life By Design?”

When Ida first posed the provocative question—“Is our bad sex life by design?”—the answer was immediate and unambiguous: yes. The way we think about sexuality, intimacy, and even the spaces we occupy is shaped by a long history of colonial, capitalist, and patriarchal design. These systems were built to control, to standardize, and to keep people in defined roles.

“One person cannot be responsible for the intimate life of anyone else. Not one person. I think an entire village has to be.” — Ida Miriam Davis

Ida’s framing moves beyond individual responsibility to a communal approach. It suggests that the design of intimacy is not a solitary act but a collective, intergenerational conversation that shapes how we feel, how we connect, and how we express desire.

Design Versus Structure: A New Vocabulary for Intimacy

In the conversation, “design” emerges as a more hopeful alternative to the dominant notion of “structure.” While structure implies rigid rules and predetermined outcomes, design invites creativity, adaptation, and intentionality. It’s a process of making, of shaping, and of continually revisiting what works and what doesn’t.

Identify Your Starting Point – Recognize the cultural, familial, and personal narratives that have already been imposed on you.
Question the Status Quo – Ask whether the norms you’ve internalized truly serve your well‑being or simply reflect the dominant culture’s expectations.
Create Alternatives – Use imagination and knowledge from your heritage or other sources to craft new ways of relating.
Iterate and Reflect – Regularly assess what feels authentic and adjust your design accordingly.

Design, therefore, becomes an act of resistance and self‑affirmation. It is the space where one can “take the fragmented parts of yourself that you know, life can break and bring them back together.”

Indigenous and African Epistemologies: Knowing Through the Body and Ancestors

Ida’s discussion of epistemology highlights how Western scientific methods often privilege a single, objective truth, while indigenous and African traditions recognize multiple ways of knowing. These traditions value the body, the ancestors, and tacit knowledge—understood through practice, ceremony, and lived experience.

“In African and indigenous epistemologies, we can know things in a lot of ways through our bodies, through the ancestors, through tacit knowledge.” — Ida Miriam Davis

She shares the parable of the tree—a story about how trees provide shade, sustenance, and song, and how they communicate. Recent scientific studies confirm that trees do indeed “talk” through chemical signals, but the knowledge of this communication existed in many cultures for centuries. The point is that our bodies and our ancestors have long carried wisdom that modern science only now begins to validate.

Capitalism, Patriarchy, and the Binary: How They Shape Sexual Norms

Ida points out that capitalism thrives on individualism, while patriarchy thrives on control. When both systems converge, they produce a binary view of sexuality—“men versus women,” “heterosexual versus homosexual,” “public versus private.” This binary is a tool of control that forces people into narrow categories and limits the expression of desire.

“When you offer people a binary, it’s for control. It creates an outsider group and an insider group.” — Ida Miriam Davis

She critiques the way Western culture has historically told people that sexuality is a private, hidden realm. From childhood, we are taught to suppress curiosity, to avoid certain topics, and to view sexual desire as something to be managed rather than celebrated. The result is a “bad sex life” that is not due to lack of desire but due to systemic design that dictates how we should feel and act.

The Village of Intimacy: Community-Based Sexuality

One of the most compelling ideas in Ida’s conversation is that intimacy is best served by community. She cites Ethiopian culture, where women are expected to date only after a certain age, and the practice of holding hands among men as a form of communal intimacy. These rituals illustrate that sexual and emotional bonds are not purely individual but are woven into a broader social fabric.

“One person cannot be responsible for the intimate life of anyone else. Not one person. I think an entire village has to be.” — Ida Miriam Davis

Ida argues that this community approach can counteract the isolating effects of capitalism. When people share responsibility for each other’s well‑being, the pressure to conform to a narrow set of expectations diminishes. It also fosters a sense of belonging and mutual support that is essential for healthy sexuality.

Personal Narrative: Ida Miriam Davis’s Wedding and Her Heritage

Ida’s personal story provides a concrete example of how design can be applied to real life. She married in August 2019, and her wedding was a deliberate act of cultural reclamation. The ceremony took place at the 16th Street train station, the first site of black union organizers in the nation, and featured all black vendors. The poem read by Angela Davis, “Resignation by Nikki Giovani,” added a layer of political and cultural resonance.

She explains that the wedding was not just a celebration of love but a statement: “It was a way to redesign a space that embraced our guests, our family, and us.” By choosing a historically significant location and honoring her Ethiopian roots, Ida created a space that was both personal and political.

Quilting, Kugi, and the Art of Reassembling

Ida draws parallels between her work and the Japanese art of Kugi, which repairs broken porcelain with gold. The process is symbolic: broken pieces are not discarded but celebrated and reintegrated. This metaphor extends to how we can repair our own fragmented identities and cultural histories.

“It’s like taking gold and using it as the adhesive to bring the broken parts back together.” — Ida Miriam Davis

She also mentions quilting—a tradition shared across many cultures, including her own Ethiopian and African-American heritage. Quilting represents the act of stitching together stories, memories, and identities into something warm and functional. It’s an act of love, care, and resilience that can be applied to sexual and emotional life as well.

The Cost of Freedom: Loneliness, Resistance, and the Price of Self-Determination

Ida acknowledges that the path to decolonized intimacy is not easy. She speaks of the loneliness that can accompany stepping away from dominant norms, the resistance from those who benefit from the status quo, and the emotional toll of being a pioneer.

“The cost of freedom is that you may be left without the same community you had.” — Ida Miriam Davis

She compares this to Harriet Tubman’s journey, noting that the fight for freedom often involves pain and sacrifice. Yet, the rewards—a sense of belonging, dignity, and joy—can outweigh the costs. The key is to recognize that these sacrifices are part of a larger movement toward justice and belonging.

Practical Steps to Decolonize Your Intimacy

For readers looking to apply these ideas, Ida offers a step‑by‑step framework. The process starts with cultural grounding and expands to community engagement, design, and ongoing reflection.

Discover Your Cultural Roots – Research your family history, traditions, and stories. Identify what resonates with you and what feels authentic.
Reframe Your Narrative – Challenge the dominant cultural scripts about sexuality. Ask yourself whether these scripts serve you or simply reflect the status quo.
Design Your Space – Create a physical and emotional environment that supports your desires. This could involve selecting a partner who shares your values, choosing rituals that honor your heritage, or setting boundaries that protect your autonomy.
Build Community – Connect with others who share your interests in decolonized sexuality. This could be through support groups, cultural organizations, or online communities.
Iterate and Reflect – Regularly evaluate how your design is working. Adjust as needed to stay aligned with your evolving needs and values.

Ida emphasizes that this process is iterative and personal. There is no one‑size‑fits‑all recipe; rather, it is about crafting a life that feels true to you and your community.

A Call to Reimagine Intimacy Together

In closing, Ida reminds us that the journey toward decolonized intimacy is collective. It requires us to listen, to see, and to honor each other’s stories. She invites us to adopt the Zulu greeting Sabubona—“I see you”—as a daily practice, to cultivate a culture of acknowledgment and care.

“Sabubona means ‘I see you.’ It is a way of saying that you are alive, that you are seen, that you are valuable.” — Ida Miriam Davis

By embracing this mindset, we can shift from a culture that optimizes speed and efficiency to one that values joy, connection, and mutual respect. It is a small act that can ripple out to transform how we experience intimacy and community.