Sex 100 years ago wasn’t as prudish as we think. What went on in our ancestors’ bedrooms?
If we could have looked behind the closed doors of a few bedrooms in 1926, we would probably not have found a single, universal picture of intimacy at that time. Life was different for the inhabitants of large cities than for people in the countryside; it differed for the upper classes and for families struggling with a lack of money. Moreover, there were marked differences between individual countries.
One thing is certain, however – the idea that our ancestors paid little attention to sex and went to bed solely for the purpose of having children is far too simplistic.
It was precisely at the beginning of the 20th century that a new perspective on romantic relationships began to gain ground. Historians speak of the rise of so-called ‘companionate marriage’ – that is, a marriage based not only on economic ties, family and children, but also on friendship, romantic love and sexual compatibility. It was precisely this greater emphasis on the emotional and sexual needs of both partners that was such a novel concept at the time that part of society perceived it as a threat to traditional marriage. And it is here that relationships of that era begin to bear a surprisingly close resemblance to those of today.
Marriage was not merely a romantic decision
Today, at least in Europe, it is common to expect that a person will choose a partner based on whom they love and with whom they wish to share their life. A hundred years ago, romantic love also played an important role, but marriage had a much more pronounced economic and social function.
Marriage could mean financial security, social status or the establishment of a household in which the roles of the man and woman were fairly clearly defined. Moreover, social pressure to marry was considerably stronger, particularly for women.
At the same time, however, the generation of the 1920s was already beginning to change this view. The new conception of marriage placed greater emphasis on the relationship between the partners themselves and their personal fulfilment. Throughout the 20th century, the notion of marriage based primarily on duty gradually gave way to friendship, romance and personal fulfilment, which became increasingly important.
The female orgasm was certainly not invented by the sexual revolution
It was around 1920 that people began to speak publicly about female sexuality in a way that must have seemed almost scandalous to some sections of society at the time.
The British scientist and advocate of family planning, Marie Stopes, for example, had a major influence. Her book *Married Love*, published in 1918, became one of the most significant texts of its time dealing with the sexual lives of married couples. The book even inspired a silent film in 1923 – and the topic of birth control was still so controversial that its original title was banned by the censors.
At the same time, Stopes and other authors of the period helped to challenge the long-held notion that a strong sexual desire in women was something abnormal. As the Wellcome Collection points out in its overview of the history of female sexuality, it was figures such as Stopes and the sexologist Magnus Hirschfeld who were among those who described female sexual desire as a natural part of human sexuality.
This does not, of course, mean that society transformed overnight into a sexually liberal environment. Quite the opposite, in fact. The popularity of such guides demonstrated, amongst other things, just how great the demand was for information that was difficult to obtain in everyday life.
In 1921, Stopes also published *Wise Parenthood*, a practical guide following on from *Married Love*, which dealt with family planning and contraception. The original edition is still available today in the Wellcome Collection’s digital archives.
So, in the bedrooms of that era, there may well have been questions very similar to those we face today: what if one partner wants sex more often than the other? How can you ensure it is enjoyable for both? What should you do if your sex life isn’t working? The main difference lay in just how difficult it was to obtain a reliable answer.
Contraception did exist. It was just much more complicated
The modern contraceptive pill was not to appear for several decades. However, this does not mean that people a hundred years ago did not try to prevent conception. Condoms, diaphragm methods, coitus interruptus and other methods of varying reliability were used. The fundamental problem was not just the availability of contraception itself, but also the social taboo surrounding it.
The National Archives in the UK describe birth control in the 1920s as a socially taboo subject. In 1921, Marie Stopes opened a clinic offering women information on contraception, and her activities formed part of a wider movement from which the British Family Planning Association later emerged.
From today’s perspective, however, it is difficult to appreciate just how significantly the possibility of an unwanted pregnancy influenced sexuality itself. The decision to spend the night with someone could have consequences that were, particularly for women, of fundamental social and economic importance. Yet, of course, desire is not something that any century can resolve.
Sex before marriage? Of course it existed
Just as today, social norms and people’s actual behaviour did not necessarily coincide. Premarital sex was, particularly for women, far more stigmatised than it is today. However, the 1920s were also a period when the way people met was changing, particularly in towns and cities. Traditional courtship under family supervision was gradually supplemented by modern ‘dating’ – meetings, dance halls, cinemas or joint outings, during which young people gained greater freedom without direct parental supervision.
As early as the 1920s, the American media were already discussing the allegedly overly daring behaviour of the younger generation and the phenomenon of so-called ‘petting’ – sexual activities that did not necessarily involve sexual intercourse.
Even premarital sex itself was by no means an unknown phenomenon. Later research, based in part on data from Alfred Kinsey, showed that premarital sexual experience gradually increased during the first half of the 20th century, although there were marked differences between men and women.
The main difference compared with today lay in the consequences. Female sexuality, in particular, was closely linked to reputation, chastity and the notion of ‘proper’ behaviour. Double standards in the history of sex are therefore certainly nothing new.
And what about those famous separate beds?
Films and TV series set in the past have taught us yet another image – a married couple each lying in their own narrow bed, with a gap between them large enough to comfortably fit a bedside table.
But even that is no proof that they had less sex.
Research by the British historian Hilary Hinds shows that separate beds began to be promoted from the late 19th century onwards, partly for hygienic reasons. By the 1920s, particularly amongst the middle classes, they could even be seen as a sign of a modern and progressive lifestyle. According to historians, separate beds were associated at the time with comfort, hygiene and a certain degree of personal autonomy for the spouses. Two beds in one room did not, therefore, automatically signify a cold marriage or a lack of sex. They were simply a different way of organising shared space.
Somewhat ironically, a hundred years on, we find ourselves back at a similar debate. Even today, some couples opt for separate beds – or even separate bedrooms – due to snoring, differing sleep patterns or simply the desire to get a good night’s sleep. What is now referred to as ‘sleep divorce’ is, in fact, not all that modern after all.
Queer people, of course, existed. It’s just that their relationships had to be much more hidden
Any look at intimacy a hundred years ago would be incomplete if we spoke only of heterosexual marriages. Gay men, lesbians and other people whom we would today include under the broad term ‘queer’ certainly existed, just as they do today. However, the possibility of living their relationships openly was entirely different.
In Czechoslovakia, the situation was further complicated by the fact that, following the establishment of the republic, various criminal laws inherited from Austria-Hungary remained in force. As described by the historical project Queer Memory, the Austrian Criminal Code was in force in the Czech lands; this criminalised intimate same-sex relationships and also applied to women. In Slovakia, the Hungarian law criminalising sexual relations between men remained in force.
Yet as early as the 1920s, a reform of criminal law was already being prepared, and the first queer activists were striving to secure the repeal of these provisions. It was not, therefore, a society in which queer people were completely invisible. There were networks of friends, secret meeting places and the first organised efforts towards emancipation.
In the early 1930s, the magazine *Hlas sexuální menšiny* (Voice of the Sexual Minority) began publication in Czechoslovakia. *Queer Memory* describes it as the most visible platform of the interwar queer movement in Czechoslovakia. The magazine was not merely a medium – it also served as a space for networking, legal advice and arguments against the criminalisation of homosexuality.
The notion that queer relationships are some sort of modern phenomenon of recent decades therefore quickly fades when we look back at history. People fell in love, longed for one another, felt jealousy and broke up long before the advent of dating apps, Pride parades or even the acronym LGBT+ itself.
Perhaps the biggest difference lies not in sex, but in freedom
When we compare intimate life around 1926 with that of 2026, some of the changes are enormous. We have incomparably more reliable contraceptive options, much more accessible information on sexual health, and a significantly greater ability to decide whether we want to get married at all. Life as a couple is also no longer automatically associated with the idea that its goal must be to start a family. Even more striking is the difference in the options available to people who do not fit into the social model of the past.
Yet, when we look back a hundred years, the expectations we have of an intimate relationship seem surprisingly familiar. We want someone we’re attracted to. We want to be desired. We want to know if we’re ‘good’ in bed. We fear infidelity. We have different appetites for sex. Sometimes we love each other, but we’re not sexually compatible. At other times, the sex is perfect but everything else is falling apart.
Modern sex guides frame these issues in different terms, and dating apps have sped up the whole process many times over. Yet these fundamental human dilemmas are far older than both Tinder and marriage counselling.
