No one’s talking about the price one pays for casual sex

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Whether Ranveer Allahbadia is relevant or not is a conversation best kept for another day, but something discussed during his podcast with Arjun Rampal did strike a chord – the price we pay for casual sex. For years now, the conversation around sex has rightly focused on freedom, consent, and choice. And why not? After all, it should be that way. Being able to choose your partner, explore desire, and say yes or no on your own terms is undeniably empowering. Casual sex, in that sense, is often framed as a marker of liberation; something modern, confident, even empowering. But what often gets left out of the conversation is what happens beyond the moment, after the excitement settles and the pattern repeats.

Cost of casual sex – mentally and emotionally

Mentally, we might want to ‘keep it casual’, but perhaps our body doesn’t get the memo. Dr Chandni Tugnait, psychotherapist, founder & director, Gateway of Healing, says, “When you sleep with someone, your brain floods with oxytocin and dopamine, the same chemicals that make mothers bond with babies. Your body is literally trying to attach you to this person, and you’re telling it not to.” Which is why, many times, people describe waking up next to someone and feeling completely alone, or going home and crying without understanding why, explains Dr Tugnait. This may come across as prudish or old-fashioned, but the point we are trying to make is that sometimes our bodies don’t know what our mind has settled for. “What’s strange is how many people describe feeling worse about themselves after a string of hookups, even though they went into each one willingly,” Dr Tugnait further adds. For some people, casual sex is genuinely fun and uncomplicated. But for others, it’s like taking out an emotional loan they didn’t realise they’d have to repay with interest. Dr Tripti Raheja, director, obstetrics & gynecology at CK Birla Hospital, Delhi, notes as a clinician that it’s common to see women or men who don’t regret the act itself but experience emotional residues like feelings of emptiness, reduced self-worth, and anxiety after casual sexual encounters.

The ‘energy exchange’

Dr Tugnait also speaks about what many people describe, somewhat awkwardly, as an “energy exchange” during sex. Call it psychological residue, emotional imprinting, or simply vulnerability, but most people can tell that not all sexual encounters feel the same. Some leave you feeling lighter and more alive. Others leave you feeling depleted or uneasy, even if everything was consensual and respectful. However, Dr Deeksha Athwani, consultant clinical psychologist at Fortis Hospital, Mulund, disagrees to an extent. She says, “Psychology recognises emotional, neurological, and psychological bonding processes, even though it does not frame intimacy in terms of an ‘energy exchange’ in a metaphysical sense. Hormones like oxytocin and dopamine are activated during physical intimacy, which can foster feelings of attachment and closeness.”

Confusing sexual freedom with emotional detachment

Now, let’s be honest. The fight for sexual liberation was supposed to free us from oppression and let us explore our desires, putting an end to fear and shame. “But now, we’ve got a whole generation treating emotions like a weakness and detachment like a skill to master. If you admit you actually enjoyed someone’s company beyond the sex, you’re ‘catching feelings’ like it’s some kind of disease. If you want to see them again, you’re clingy. We’ve built a culture where the ultimate flex is not giving a damn, and we’re calling that freedom,” Dr Tugnait observes. And if you are to believe the experts, that’s an absolutely wrong approach, and it has nothing to do with backward thinking, lest someone jump to conclusions. “You can train yourself to disconnect, to treat sex like a transaction, but that’s not freedom, it’s emotional shutdown. Real freedom would look more like honesty,” Dr Tugnait argues.

The ‘thrill’ of casual sex

So why don’t we talk about the aftermath more openly? Because nobody wants to ruin the party. Social media celebrates the thrill—the outfit, the flirtation, the adrenaline rush—but not the 3 am spiral where you wonder why you keep repeating the same pattern. Admitting that casual sex didn’t work for you often gets mistaken for being uptight or regressive. And the emptiness rarely hits immediately; it creeps in after weeks or months, making it harder to connect the dots. “Thrill is marketable, while the aftermath is not. Stories of empowerment and confidence fit neatly into reels, headlines, or dating app bios, whereas the aftermath, emotional hangover, doesn’t. As a society, we do a disservice if we glamourise only the thrill and ignore the emotional crash that many people follow,” says Dr Raheja.

Gender double standards

It goes without saying that even today, when it comes to sexual encounters, we do not perceive all genders through the same lens. For instance, men often have the upper hand, where they can flex their casual sexual encounters, but women are still sl*t-shamed. Gender double standards persist, even if they’re quieter now. Beyond that, personal context matters. People with strong boundaries and solid self-esteem may navigate hookups without much fallout. Others—those carrying emotional wounds, loneliness, or a deep need for connection—may experience casual sex as a form of self-harm disguised as choice.

Dating apps have complicated things

With endless options just a swipe away, intimacy has turned into a marketplace, that’s what experts believe. “The paradox is brutal: intimacy has never been more accessible, but real connection has never felt more rare or expensive,” says Dr Tugnait. Why invest in “good” when “better” might be next? People hedge their bets, keep backups, and avoid vulnerability. Apps were built to generate matches, not nurture relationships, and it shows in how disposable people have become to each other.

Two cents

Maybe the point isn’t to judge casual sex or glorify it, but to stop pretending it’s emotionally neutral for everyone. Freedom isn’t just about having options; it’s also about listening to what those choices do to you over time. If casual sex feels good, clean, and honest, that’s valid. And if it leaves you feeling hollow, disconnected, or quietly unsettled, that’s valid too. The real shift happens when we allow space for both truths to exist without shame, and give ourselves permission to choose what actually sustains us—not just what the culture or people around us celebrate.

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