The Shocking Truth Behind Why Men Are Ditching Condoms—and How Women Are Paying the Price
You ever find yourself in that awkward moment—condoms on the table, but your partner’s acting like you just asked him to juggle flaming swords? That’s Andie’s* world. At 36, she’s met her fair share of guys who wouldn’t just forget the condom; they’d dodge the whole conversation until she brought it up. It’s wild! Despite an arsenal of STI testing and a history that now includes some unwanted surprises, Andie isn’t alone in this struggle. Condoms, that age-old barrier protection we’ve all heard about—even since long before latex was a sexy option—have somehow become the ultimate negotiation battlefield. Why is this simple tool, crucial for health and peace of mind, still getting the cold shoulder? Especially when the numbers show less than a third of men under 50 use them regularly, and the rise in STIs is nothing to brush off. Whether it’s body autonomy, pleasure myths, or just plain old stubbornness, the condom conversation is more complex than it might seem at first glance. Let’s crack open why these tiny sheaths are still such a hard sell—and what it means for all of us in the game.
To use or not to use? For Andie*, 36, condoms are a frustrating topic of conversation with her cisgender male partners. “Every partner I’ve ever had never came forth with one,” she says. “It was only when I asked.” In a recent casual relationship, her partner tested for STIs quarterly. They weren’t using condoms, and she didn’t know he was also having unprotected sex with another woman. Andie was exposed to an STI, something she now has to inform her own future partners about. That experience wasn’t the only time Andie encountered a partner reluctant to use a condom during sex.
Barrier protection isn’t exactly new—humans have used everything from silk, tortoise shell, leather, and animal intestines before latex condoms were popularized in the 1920s. Yet, today, women like Andie find themselves negotiating with the male partners she has to please wear a condom. And according to the data, she’s far from alone.
The National Center for Health Statistics reported that between 2017 and 2019, only 33.8% of unmarried men between 15 and 49 used the male condom for recent sexual encounters. As men get older, their condom use does not improve. An older study suggested that among unmarried men between the ages of 35 and 44, that figure dropped to 25.8 percent.
This unpopularity of condom usage—which includes cis men of all sexualities—coincides with an increase in STIs. According to provisional 2024 data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, while STIs have decreased steadily since 2021, overall infection rates remain 13 percent higher than a decade ago. “We’ve had about two decades of sustained increases,” says Stacy De-Lin, MD, associate medical director at Planned Parenthood Hudson Peconic.
This elevated risk of contracting an STI means sex still carries the logistics of preventing transmission—and many women who are having sex with men feel that they are shouldering the burden more than their sexual partners. As conversations of sexual agency and the pursuit of sexual pleasure become increasingly mainstream, the conversations around condom usage almost feel old-school—but women are having a hard time finding buy-in. As one of the easiest (and cheapest) ways to mitigate transmission, why are they still a hard sell?
What’s Behind All the Condom Pushback?
Lucie*, 31, was one of the 1,649,716 Americans who contracted chlamydia in 2022. She says that her partner claimed he couldn’t “keep it up with a condom” and requested to remove it mid-intercourse. “I said yes in the moment, and then I ended up with chlamydia.” It was unpleasant but ultimately easy to treat.
Later, a pregnancy scare with a long-term partner after not using a condom proved to be even more jarring. “It was a few weeks after the six-week abortion ban had gone into effect, and I was terrified,” Lucie says. Living in Atlanta, the increasingly limited access to abortion now plays a central role in her sex life. “The entire experience was pretty traumatizing,” she says, looking back.
Now Lucie is diligent about new partners wearing a condom. “In the past, I gave in,” she said. “I am now fresh into dating again, and it would absolutely look like refusal on my end if we couldn’t agree on using a condom.”
For many people, getting older enabled them to be firmer in their sexual boundaries, like asking their partners to use condoms. “In my 20s, I would cave because physical intimacy was more important to me than my own bodily autonomy,” Hannah*, 35, says. Like many women, condoms are a dealbreaker for casual encounters. “If it’s a partner, we both get tested regularly and use the pull-out method.”
Hannah sleeps with all genders, but says she encounters cis men who don’t want to use condoms or complain about wearing one. “They’re like, it feels better without condoms. I can’t get hard with condoms,” she says.
Jeanette*, 30, is bisexual and has been single and dating casually for four years. She recounts that in the past two years, when she has sex with cis men, they are willing to wear condoms. “But I think it’s more a result of my standards getting more rigid than it is men getting better about condom usage,” she says.
“When I was first single, I was just looking to have fun with other hot people and wasn’t as picky about who I was sleeping with,” Jeanette says. “I encountered several men who told me they either didn’t have condoms or didn’t like to or need to use them. In those cases, I refused to have sex with them and was met with pushback.”
Now, when Jeannette has sex with anyone with a penis, including cis men and trans women, condoms are non-negotiable. While she says she has only had positive experiences with trans women regarding condom usage, she has noticed some common themes when she encounters cis men who don’t want to wear them.
“They [say] they don’t have them readily available and make it seem like it would be a pain to get them,” Jeannette says. “When I offer to grab some from a nearby pharmacy, it’s funny how quickly their reasoning may change to ‘Actually, I just don’t like how they feel, and I just got tested, and I’m clean, so it’s not an issue.’ Somehow every man has ‘just gotten tested’ when they don’t want to use condoms.”
The State of STI Prevention
The personal decision on whether or not to use condoms varies widely on a number of factors. And it is reasonable to assume that most people aren’t pulling up the CDC website before they decide whether or not to have unprotected penetrative sex.
Sexual health data is “a mess”, as Bianca Palmisano, a registered nurse and sexual health consultant at Intimate Health Consulting, calls it. A hurricane of destructive factors from social stigma to declining federal investment to shifting policy mean that up-to-date, easy-to-access sexual health information is disappearing.
It doesn’t help that the sexual education curriculum aimed at young people can vary dramatically depending on where they are. A 2023 Boston University survey reported only 11 states require any curriculum about condoms, out of 20 states that require instruction on contraception at all. It’s not a problem that has improved with time, either; between 2022 and 2023, there was a 127.5 percent increase in anti-sex ed legislation, according to Sex Ed for Social Change. In fact, adolescents were more likely to learn about birth control methods in 1995 compared to those educated between 2002 and 2019, according to the Guttmacher Institute.
In the 21st century, there have been incredible advancements in other sexual healthcare. Pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PrEP, has been proven to be an extremely effective HIV prevention medication. PrEP is used primarily in patients with penises who have sex with other patients with penises and have receptive anal intercourse, says Dr. De-Lin, though anyone who asks for it can benefit, per the CDC.
When PrEP was first introduced, critics wondered if there would be a huge spike in chlamydia, gonorrhea, and syphilis since patients would no longer be using condoms to prevent HIV, she notes. But she adds that the introduction of PrEP actually led to increased testing and, as a result, decreased STI rates among patients on PrEP. “In order to continue giving PrEP, patients need to come into the clinic every three months,” she says.
Now, the introduction of Doxy-PEP, a post-exposure prophylaxis medication for STIs other than HIV, has also been proven to be highly effective. “If you give doxycycline within 72 hours of unprotected intercourse, it can dramatically decrease the rate of transmission of chlamydia, gonorrhea and syphilis,” says Dr. De-Lin.
While PrEP and Doxy-PEP can both be used for anyone having condomless sex across genders and sexualities, Dr. De-Lin sees heterosexual partners using it the least, though she hopes it becomes more normalized.
“I’ve even heard of Doxy-PEP referred to as a morning-after pill for STIs, which I love,” Dr. De-Lin says. “In these times of really high increased rates and decreased condom use, anybody is eligible and could benefit from HIV PrEP and DoxyPEP.”
Beyond that, Palmisano suggests treating a partner’s willingness to honor your own sexual protection processes as a priority. “I would hope that when people are looking for partners, whether that is casual or long-term, they are trying to find that same level of respect for their comfort, their priorities, and their safety,” they say.
Condoms are affordable—per Planned Parenthood, they can cost less than a dollar each if you buy them in bulk. They are not a one-size-fits-all answer, or cure, for all sexual health risks. But in a time when the risk of contracting an STI is higher, access to healthcare is becoming more cost-prohibitive, and reproductive healthcare is under attack, they are a valuable tool.
Everyone should feel empowered to use condoms with a partner, and doing so should not be a negotiation process on boundaries. The stakes go beyond any single encounter or risk of an infection. A partner’s willingness to listen to boundaries shows a willingness to honor your wishes—and that should always be the baseline.
*Names have been changed.
Nia Watson is an editorial intern at Women’s Health. She completed her Master of Fine Arts degree in Journalism at New York University. She has written about chronic reproductive health conditions like endometriosis and nutrition for Rewire News Group and The 19th News, as well as about the food and beverage industry in NYC for AmNewYork. She loves starting her morning with yoga and coffee; and when she’s not writing, she enjoys wandering around Central Park.




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