Young people becoming intimate on social media: Digital desires and gender dynamics

Abstract

Digital technologies are shaping young people’s intimate relationships in profound ways, yet we have little knowledge of these experiences from the Global South. Drawing from a qualitative study, this article examines how 16-19-year-old South Africans make meaning of gender and sexuality through digital intimate practices. The study finds that digital intimacies are facilitated through producing and sharing of sexual content through sexting, video calls, selfies, nudes and emojis. Together they serve as affective entities in enhancing intimate connections expanding what we know of young people’s online sexual activities. However, we also draw attention to enduring patterns of male dominance within digital practices where girls’ online activities are curtailed by heterosexual oppressive relations of power. We contribute to the emerging research in South Africa advocating for the need for greater emphasis on young people and digital sexual intimacies beyond the current framing of risk and danger in order to promote healthy young sexualities.

Introduction

The landscape of sexual relationships amongst young people is undergoing transformation, even in South Africa, the setting for our study, where traditional notions of intimacy are now entangled with increasing access to the digital realm. Smith et al. (2019, p. 2) describe digital intimacies as “communicating, producing and sharing intimate content” which includes a spectrum of practices such as sharing selfies, sexting, producing, viewing and distributing sexual material. This paper examines how social media platforms like Facebook (Meta) and WhatsApp offer opportunities for young people’s sexual expression, reshaping how we understand the dynamics of intimate connections in South Africa.

While social media has become an integral part of young people’s intimate lives, it has also been widely implicated in problematic practices leading to concerns about the risks and danger of young people’s online access (Dobson, 2018; Hall et al., 2022; Smith et al., 2019). Research in the west has drawn attention to internet as a contaminating platform where sexual predators and online sexual abuse characterise young people’s digital experiences (Hall et al., 2022; Powell and Henry, 2017). Concerns have been raised about young people’s risk to sexual grooming (Powell and Henry, 2017), their exposure to pornography (Spišák, 2022) and the corruption of sexual innocence (Robinson, 2013).

However, the framing of young people’s entanglement with the digital realm as dangerous reinforces a binary between what is good and bad and often fails to consider the ways in which gender and sexuality matter in the experience of digital connections (Marston, 2024). When gender and sexuality are the focus of attention, scholars have drawn attention to hegemonic masculinity and the persistence of phallocentric power relations online (Ringrose et al., 2022), where women and girls’ bodies are shamed (Ringrose and Harvey, 2015), traded (Ringrose et al., 2013) and abused online (Setty, 2024). In particular, scholars have also demonstrated the ways in which the non-consensual sharing of images (Döring, 2014), sexting (Naezer and Oosterhout, 2021), the exchange of nudes and dick pics (Ringrose et al., 2021) within the online environment constitute sexual harassment and abuse. Attention has been directed to the perpetuation of unequal gender relations through online-offline spaces (Hall et al., 2022; Ringrose and Harvey, 2015). As Ringrose et al. (2022) note, digital platforms both reflect and reinforce gendered norms, shaping young people’s interactions and sexual conduct across virtual and physical realms.

In South Africa, attention has been given to young sexualities in the context of risk, including HIV (Brown et al., 2023), unwanted teenage pregnancy (Christofides et al., 2014) and gender and sexual violence (Gibbs et al., 2024). In the context of high levels of violence against women and girls, Gqola (2021: 18) defines the landscape in South Africa as underpinned by a ‘female fear factory’ where male power, patriarchal norms, structural inequalities and the racist past continues to shape gender relations and violence against women and girls. It is in this context that girls’ disproportionate vulnerability and heightened risk to sexual coercion and disease that has propelled research towards gendered risks and harm. However, a one-sided focus on sexual risk and harm has reinforced sexuality as a realm of suffering.

Contesting this narrow focus on sexuality as a domain of danger, Bhana’s (2023) research with young people, gender, sexuality and digitalisation in South Africa, points to a more expansive understanding of their sexual experiences beyond danger. Taking up this challenge South African scholars have now begun to address digital and mobile technologies to articulate young people’s sexual investment in online platforms (Janak et al., 2024; Mayeza et al., 2024). Like the research in the west, such work points to the enduring patterns of male power that travel and mediate gender power relations where masculinity is often based on the disparagement of femininity. Focusing on the ways in which heteropatriarchal discourses and social structures including race and class shape young people’s experiences, the current research in South Africa with few exceptions (Bhana, 2023; Bhana and Nathwani, 2022) remains tied to discursive practices within the broader social-cultural context which shapes girls’ risk to sexual violence through online activities (Mayeza et al., 2024). Very little work addresses sexual intimacies and the pursuit of pleasure through online platforms.

This paper contributes to the emerging body of work by shifting the focus to the complexity young people’s digital intimacies. We ask: What are the processes involved when young people engage in digital intimacies, and how do gender norms shape these relations? To answer these questions, we begin this paper by setting out the theoretical framing of this paper in order to understand the gendering of young people’s digital intimacies-which we explain in the next section of the paper.

Theorising intimacies as assemblages

Using primary empirical data, we examine how young people engage with the digital realm in ways that produce bonds of connection and intimacies through which gender relations of power are evident. Digital affordances such as sexting, video calls, selfies, nudes and emojis are key elements in the production of intimacy but sexual intimacy is also forged through traditional gender roles (Lamont, 2014). Gendered roles and norms regulate the position of masculinity and femininity within hierarchical structures of power where female sexual passivity and an active male sexuality is normalised (Butler, 1990; Connell, 2005). These norms that operate and travel within online-offline spaces shape sexual intimacy and social relations which reinforce inequalities. This process however is complex and involves the coming together of human and more-than-human matter.

To understand this complexity, we draw from a new feminist materialist perspective that emphasises the role of the more-than-human factors (Van der Tuin and Dolphijn, 2010). Within this perspective more-than-human matter moves beyond traditional human-centered approaches to consider the agency and significance of all entities, materials and forces. This connection between the human and more-than-human forces emphasises the interconnectedness and co-constitution of all matter as vital, with agency, rather than being passive or inert (Barad, 2007).

In the context of our current study, we see digital devices, apps, online platforms, social media, sexting, video calls, visual imagery as important to the production of digital intimacy. In new feminist materialist language, other-than-human matter is entangled with the human life worlds. In other words, digital intimacies are produced through an inextricable connection of all matter – human and more-than-human where the human subject is decentred and where all matter has agency. Young people’s digital intimacies cannot be understood without the connection with the materiality of things, objects, devices, technologies. All matter is thus vibrant (Bennett, 2010) and alive.

Whilst the field of new feminist materialism is wide, we make use of some key concepts drawing from Deleuze and Guattari (1987) to illuminate the liveliness of young people’s online sexual connections and intimate lives. Firstly, young people’s digital intimacies can be understood as assemblages. Assemblages can be seen as a ‘chaotic network of habitual and non-habitual connections, always in flux, always reassembling in different ways’ (Potts, 2004: 19). They are a mix of discourses, ideas, ideologies, bodies, objects, things, institutions, through which social norms are produced and regulated (Fox and Alldred, 2013). Assemblages are relationally produced through material structures in a chaotic and unpredictable way depending on what constitutes the assemblage. Relationality is key to the operation of the assemblage as the heterogenous elements including human bodies are produced in relation to each other (Taylor and Ivinson, 2013). When young people express sexual intimacy through digitalisation, this involves a complex assemblage that includes gender, social norms and the variety of elements and bodies that make up the digital space.

Secondly, in new feminist materialism, ‘affects’ is used in place of ‘agency’ and contributes to the liveliness and capacity of all matter (human and more-than-human) (Fox and Alldred, 2022). Deleuze and Guattari (1987, p. 26) define affects as the capacity to “affect and be affected”. They are mutual; always emerging contextually and relationally (Fox and Alldred, 2022). It is only through affects that entities gain agency and the capacity to act (Charteris and Gregory, 2024). For example, in our study sexting and flirting is affectively produced through a connection with devices and more-than-human entities to foster trust and sexual closeness. The affective force of pleasure and desire are also shaped and mediated through these online relations. When young people express desire, they disrupt the taken for granted ideas about what is possible to do and become sexually. This disruption is referred through Deleuzo-Guattarian thinking as “de-territorialisation” of the assemblage. In other words, the assemblage is destabilised. However, the affective force of gender power dynamics emerges as constraining forces when for example heterosexual jealously and male power is exerted within relationship dynamics. In other words, whilst the assemblage may open up to new ways of being, it is re-territorialised through normative understandings of power. The possibility for change is placed under pressure. Change is thus limited when conventional norms around masculinity and femininity function to stabilise and territorialise the assemblage.

As we will show, boyfriends are reported to monitor and control their partners engagements on social media territorialising and sustaining power in digital spaces. However, power is also de-territorialised through a “line of flight” establishing “new possibilities for action” (Fox and Alldred, 2022: p. 629). For instance, when girls in this study defy feminine norms, they initiate a line of flight and new becomings, contesting traditional gender roles and thus de-territorialise female passivity and subordination. While de-territorialisation destabilises order, fostering change within the assemblage, re-territorialisation maintains order and stabilise the assemblage (Feely, 2019). Such movements and forces emerge through the multiplicity of flows within the assemblage. As a result, assemblages are dynamic and always becoming and transforming due to the various intra-actions between human and more-than-human elements.

Affects are crucial to an assemblage which emerges from the interconnected and fluid nature of matter (Charteris and Gregory, 2024). Although social media platforms along with other entities of matter are distinct, they are co-constituted through and affect each other. Within the intimate assemblage, multiple elements collided through “flows of affects” (Fox and Alldred, 2022: p. 628) that enable and diminished digital intimacy. Through the flows of affects, digital intimacy can do many things such as produce connections, create bonds, initiate sexting, and also open avenues for control and surveillance.

Finally, the assemblage is co-constituted through the entanglement of matter. It is not fixed or stable but “emergent” and a “process” or “becoming” (Ingram, 2021: p. 2). Intra-action as conceptualised by Barad (2007, p. 33) shows the “mutual constitution of entangled agencies” where the capabilities of every entity emerge only through their intra-action. This study shows how digital intra-actions (individuals, social media, gender and social norms) are co-constituted. It is only through the intra-action of human and more-than-human agencies within the intimate assemblage that young people embody romantic relations, exchange intimate images and messages and engage in online sexual behaviours.

Methodology

The empirical data we draw on for this article draws from a larger project entitled “Learning from the learners: growing up as girls and boys and negotiating gender and sexuality in and out school.” This project aims to investigate the role of gender and sexuality in the lives of children and young people in various social and cultural contexts within South Africa. In this paper we focus on interviews and focus group discussions using photo elicitation methods with 16-19-year-old black teenage men and women.

The research took place in two high schools in the KwaZulu-Natal province of South Africa. Stamford High School (all names are pseudonyms) is situated in a peri-urban area and comprises participants from a variety of backgrounds, primarily black, mixed-race and Indian learners, while Nkosi High School is in a semi-rural community comprising of only black learners. Both these schools reflect the enduring legacies of apartheid where access to resources and infrastructure remain problematic. Apartheid was a system of institutionalised racial segregation that was implemented in South Africa from 1948 until democracy in 1994. In this system race and class were deeply entwined maintaining privilege for the white minority while subjecting black people to working class lives and poverty. The schools reflect these histories.

Ethical clearance was provided by the University of KwaZulu-Natal. Both school principals granted approval for access to the school, and prior to the interviews, informed consent was obtained from participants. The sampling method was purposive. 49 participants (22 black, 22 Indian and 5 mixed race) were purposefully selected based on their possession of a cellphone, their active engagement with social media platforms and time availability. 26 boys and 23 girls participated in the study. We carried out interviews in English which served as the language of instruction in both schools and was either the learners’ home language or second language. An effort was made to gain a diverse group of sample population in terms of race, gender and class, however the eventual sample was determined by learner demographics in each school.

33 semi-structured individual interviews and six focus group discussions (FGDs) were conducted. The limited number of participants in FGDs were due to the COVID-19 pandemic and lockdown regulations at the time, thus several parents/guardians were concerned about their children gathering in groups. In Stamford High School, 18 individual interviews and five FDGs were carried out with the first group comprising of two girls and one boy; the second group with four boys; the third group with five boys, the fourth group with two boys and two girls and the fifth group with two boys and two girls. In Nkosi High School, 15 individual interviews and one focus group discussion with two boys and three girls were conducted. When interviews began participants were constantly reminded of their liberty to withdraw from the study if they felt uncomfortable. We guided conversations, while simultaneously allowing participants to freely speak about their experiences (Bhana, 2023). To ensure participants’ comfort, the study was carefully designed to mitigate potential invasiveness. We ensured that focus group discussions were inclusive and non-judgmental. Participants were encouraged to share their views openly, knowing that their responses would be confidential and their identities protected. We adopted the ‘Vegas Rule’ where confidentiality was secured by all participants based on “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” (Carboni and Bhana, 2019). This rule facilitated trust and participants felt confident in raising issues that mattered to them. Moreover, the visual component of the study also encouraged participants to express their views, feelings and desires about intimacy on social media through drawings. This method provided an alternative means of expression for participants who might have felt uncomfortable articulating their thoughts verbally. By using these methods, we aimed to respect participants' privacy and capacities to express themselves whilst acknowledging the sensitive nature of the topics discussed. This approach enabled us to examine power dynamics embedded in becoming intimate online, while maintaining ethical responsibility throughout the research process.

Participants were asked questions pertaining to their intimate connections online such as, ‘Does social media platforms play a role in your romantic relationship?’ ‘How were you and your partner intimate online?’ ‘Explain how social media platforms are good and/or bad for your relationship?’ Furthermore, photo-elicitation methods were used during FGDs to prompt discussion and encourage participants to think deeply about the topic discussed. For example, participants were shown images reflective of sexual double standards in intimate relationships and emojis that are used as a tool to connect intimately online. There were asked questions such as: Are boys and girls treated the same when intimate together? Are boys and girls labelled for having multiple partners? Why? Why not? What does emojis mean to you? How does it impact your relationship? Participants in FGDs were also encouraged to share their views on a blank A2 sized blank paper. They were tasked with expressing their experiences through drawings, reflecting on what intimacy on social media meant to them. The interviews and the focus on both human and more-than-human relations within the assemblage was vital to understanding how relations were affectively produced, the capacities they generated and the constraints through which their potentials were limited.

Interviews were audio recorded with permission and transcribed verbatim. The transcripts were read many times to gain a deep understanding of the content and take note of initial thoughts. These ideas were grouped into emerging themes that were important to the research question. We were interested in how relations are affectively produced, the ways in which sexual capacities emerge as young people express intimacies through the entanglement with more-than-human forms as well as how they are constrained by normative understandings of gender. Following Renold et al. (2024: 2), the analysis challenges the focus on young people’s voice as it is related to ‘verbal or linguistic expression’. Charteris and Gregory (2024) also note that is impossible to extract voice separately from affects, materiality and relationality- which are key to the assemblage.

Following our theoretical positioning, the analysis is framed around how relations are produced in/through objects, things, ideas and gendered norms and discourses. In other words, the data was analysed by acknowledging the material-discursive and affective forces in young people’s narratives. As young people discuss intimate digital connections, we conceptualised these articulations framed through affective capacities and multiple forces that implicated human and more-than-human entities.

Firstly, we looked for the intra-active forces within the assemblage that pointed to more-than-human element within the assemblage. Secondly, following Shuilleabhain et al. (2023), we looked for affective ‘glow’ moments that showed the liveliness of the assemblage and the ways in which these capacities de-territorialised the assemblage. This approach was productive in understanding the affective, discursive and material entanglements through which affects were produced. Thirdly, we identified the normative ways through which gender was produced within intimate digital assemblage as constraints and territorialisation. In the section below, we report on digital sexual expressions and gendered norms through which capacities were enabled and constrained.

Sexting: video calls, selfies, nudes, emojis

Dobson (2018) defines sexting as an array of digitally facilitated practices encompassing intimate and sexual interactions, such as exchanging texts and sharing images and videos that is linked to desire, intimacy, sexual acts and the body. We found that sexting was a desirable and adventurous means of expression for intimate partners to communicate about sexuality (Renold and Ringrose, 2017), and is considered a normality practice, mainly to flirt and maintain intimacy (Marston, 2024). Within the intimate assemblage we found that video calling on WhatsApp and sharing nudes between intimate partner’s possessed intensive power to elicit satisfaction and sexual pleasure as reported by male and female participants:

Zondile: … It helps cos we communicate through social media, especially WhatsApp…

Tammy: It… makes you closer you know, can connect on another level.

Jack: It helps me a lot, say madam like when I need to see my girlfriend, I can call her on WhatsApp, makes us closer.

Jezreel: It plays a huge role in my relationship. I don't think we would have been together if it wasn't for social media… It makes you closer. It makes us bond more.

In the above excerpts, WhatsApp functions as a powerful element within the intimate assemblage, facilitating the production and maintenance of connections. The relations between love, desire and bonding are intertwined within the fabric of these entanglements where social media platforms intensify emotional ties and bring intimate partners closer. Reports of, “makes us close” and “makes us bond” underscores how intimate emotional connections are intensified through social media. Furthermore, this platform functions not only as a de-territorialised force that breaks away from conventional norms of communication, but also affords various pathways for connecting that surpasses the margins of physical constraints. Social media platforms are also used to strengthen long distance relationships between romantic partners:

Mbali: It made us stronger, because he stays far away…

Andile: … I had a relationship with a person who was from all the way in Cape Town and I’m just from KZN (KwaZulu-Natal) …I've never been to Cape Town.

Researcher: So how you came in touch with this person?

Andile: Social media… He used to just comment on my pictures randomly and then on Instagram and Facebook, everywhere. And then we took it to WhatsApp. We used to chat daily, where it’s more personal now… We used to talk every day and then video calls all that and then calls at two am, we started getting really close. I used to tell him things that I don't even tell my close friends. So, we developed a very, very strong connection.

Although the physical distance territorialises young people’s relationship, WhatsApp de-territorialises such constraints by allowing for intimacy beyond physical distance. Social media platforms can eliminate the physical obstacles to communication. Several scholars have noted that digital technologies offer new possibilities for intimacy (Marston, 2024; boyd, 2014) with De Ridder (2022, p.593) stating that our lifeworlds are ‘dependent on digital technology for building close human connections’. Young people within the assemblage are able to redefine and reshape their individual boundaries and the means in which they express digital intimacies. Andile, for instance shared his experience through video calling:

Andile: … We once did a video call, it was late at night and it was my first time doing that but he had done it before… I think I was half naked and he asked me what I'm doing. So, we did something like that, they call it online sex or something… It is quite adventurous.

Video calls here represent a technological element in the intimate assemblage, highlighting the entanglement of technology with bodies, particularly the merging of the technological and the physical in expressing intimacy. Video calling functions as a medium for connecting and expressing desire between Andile and his boyfriend. His reference of “adventurous” implies positive affects, highlighting the autonomy he possesses to explore his desires and engage intimately with his partner. Others reported on the affective capacities of sharing nudes within the intimate assemblage as two female participants noted below:

Jezreel: … We used to like flirt, like if I send him a picture, he would say I’m looking hot in that and he would say that he wished that his hands went up my body… his hands down there and you know one thing led to the next and then he says imagine us kissing right now, imagine us making love right now. And you know, its things like that and it would really get us close to each other.

Tammy: … It's like in my relationship we do talk about sex, I mean, I’m still a virgin, I haven't done it before… He always says he can't wait you know to be my only and to make me cum (orgasm) and to make me feel… He always says that he can’t wait to make me… you know.

The above excerpts resonate with Deleuze and Guattari’s (1983, p. 5) notion of “desiring-production” where desire in the online realm is produced through sexting and flirting, and continuous intra-actions between intimate partners. A focus on the material facets of desire (sending pictures, speaking about intimacy) is highlighted. Jezreel’s statement is filled with affective capacities, involving emotional responses that are generated through sending her partner a picture and flirting that forms part of the intimate assemblage. Speaking about the physical aspects of intimacy within an imaginative shared space produces affective relations. What is emphasised here is also the embodied facets of subjectivity. Intimate partners engage with sexting through their actual bodies, shaping and being shaped by material circumstances of their existence. Social media platforms are not detached from the material realm, instead it is entangled with it. Tammy’s discussion of sex with her partner entails affective capacities, shaping their romantic relationship. The desire for intimacy as a virgin and with a virgin is a dynamic force that shapes the romantic relationship, giving rise to vivid sexual fantasies where men fulfil women's desires: “He always says he can't wait you know to be my only and to make me cum and to make me feel”. Here, the perpetuation of traditional gender norms is highlighted reflecting masculinity and its association with sexual dominance and control. In this narrative, Tammy illustrates how masculine power is enacted through control of and power over female orgasm. In other words, heterosexual masculinity is tied to sexual performance and the ability to elicit physical pleasure and power. As Richardson (2010: 745) notes, ‘vaginal intercourse…constitutive of masculinity, underscores the connection of heterosex, status and power’. Power is further intensified in the context of virginity status where female sexual purity is key to masculinity. Hegemonic masculinity depends on the sexually passive woman who is pleasured by heterosexual male but at the same time female virginity is expected and reflective of gender norms. In the South Africa, Bhana (2018) notes that female virginity has a historical and material context and is associated with customary practices around respect. However, virginity is highly gendered and functions to emphasise the value of female sexual purity whilst condoning and normalising male sexual activity.

Tammy’s partner focuses on her virginity and desire for sexual engagement with him only reflects a confined understanding of relationships and femininity, emphasising purity and monogamy as desirable traits for girls. This statement also resonates with Chadwick and Van Anders (2017) study in the US, where men view sexually pleasuring women as a way to validate their masculinity. In their study, men reported feeling more masculine and having an increased self-esteem when they envisioned their partner having an orgasm during sexual relations. This result was more intensified for men with “high masculine gender role stress” (Chadwick and van Anders, 2017, p. 1141), suggesting that, to a certain degree, women’s orgasm serve as an achievement for men.

The sharing of nudes in the intimate assemblage was also in many cases based on trust, for instance, Andile, a young male participant reported:

Andile: I think, personally I think it's okay if we can do it with only that one person that you trust and also whatever they should do if maybe you take nudes or something… at least hide your face and then share it only with that person and just don't share certain pictures like that without having those people’s picture also because I think it should be both ways. If you send a picture that person also immediately sends a picture. So, in case the person does something because you don't know people today, feeling this way, the next day so you've got something also to just scare him if he does post those nudes…

Andile connects the exchange of nudes with trust but also advises to hide one’s face in the photos to protect privacy. Andile also suggests reciprocity, meaning if someone sends a photo, the recipient should also send one in return, creating a mutual understanding and responsibility. This reciprocity serves as a safeguard against potential exploitation or betrayal, as both parties have something to lose if one of them decides to share the images without consent. The exchange of nudes acts as a sort of leverage highlights the power dynamics at play, serving as a preventative measure against non-consensual use of nudes or revenge. Although trust which is seen as an affective element to control and regulate the dispersal of intimate images, there are fears and constraints with regards to not having control over the shared material. Andile therefore produces an intimate assemblage that re-territorialises the assemblage where boys are the main perpetrators of abuse and sexual violations. To avoid this, he recommends that girls use a tactic where they both consensually share pictures. This process de-territorialises the assemblage, which in turn redefines girls as passive sexual victims, while also suggesting their capacity to protect themselves.

Furthermore, we found that the use of emojis was an affective force within the intimate assemblage:

Jezreel: … We also send each other's emojis, like if he sends me a winking eye it's like you know…I want him now… It just changes the whole mood, it’s like once you get that it’s like I want you.

Here, we find the affective capacity of an element, the “winking eye” emoji within the intimate assemblage. The emoji, functions as an animated image with no words yet filled with capacities for young people like Jezreel to encounter sexual feelings. In addition, it resembles a sort of playfulness and a means to communicate intimately, as she mentioned that it makes her “want” her partner “now”. Similarly, Groggel (2023) finds that emojis convey feelings, affects and desires that convey cultural and sexualised meaning. Marston’s (2024, p. 9) study in the UK also showed how emojis was vital in communicating and defining intimate relationships between partners, for example the “beating heart emoji” signified commitment and carried the networked affects of liveliness. Emojis therefore de-territorialise linguistic boundaries with affective capacities to initiate intimacies among young people.

The physical space in which digital intimacies take place was also significant to our findings. We found the bathroom to be a common space for this to take place. The bathroom, a personal and private space becomes an affective element within the intimate assemblage, and is reflective of the fluidity and dynamic nature of intimacy. Male participants reported sending nudes and sexting within this space:

Senzo: Like when I’m in the bathroom, I tell her I will come over there and have sex with you, I will make your baby or something (laughs)… We talk about love bites…giving her love bites…

Jack: … The girlfriend that I was telling you about, I didn’t ask for it, but all the time when she’s in the bath she takes selfies of naked pictures and sends them to me. …When I'm bathing and I’m online, she’ll like ask me what I’m doing and I’ll tell her that I’m bathing… and I ask her ‘you don't want my pics?’…She just send me pics even when I don’t even ask for it.

Researcher: What kinds of pics?

Jack: Like wearing underwear.

Anderson (2009, p. 77) states that “atmospheres are singular affective qualities that emanate from but exceed the assembling of bodies”. The bathroom as mentioned as a private space enables intimate experiences to arise. This emotional element does not merely arise from the physical collection of bodies within the bathroom but transcends it, suggesting that there is a distinct and important emotional feeling related with sexting within the private bathroom space. Additionally, the connection between the bathroom, body, cellphone, social media platform and images shape the nature of intimacy. The bathroom becomes an intimate and private territory where desire is located. Desires reflected by Senzo, such as “I will make your baby” and “lovebites” entails affective capacities. Here, we also see a connection between masculinity and been able to procreate. This resonates with Shikukutu and Ramrathan’s (2022, p. 28) study in Namibia where teenage pregnancy is considered as a “marker of manhood”. Moreover, Senzo’s reference to “your baby” re-territorialises gender norms and feminisation of nurturing and child care (Connell, 2005). Regardless of the physical detachment, young people within the intimate assemblage engage through their bodies and use space (the bathroom), technology, gender norms, imagination and language to elicit sensory experience and desire.

Gender power relations and intimate connections

According to Ringrose (2010, p. 602) young people’s entanglement with social media platforms reinforces “existing gendered and sexualized relationships” that further heightens gendered hierarchies and divisions. Although the intimate assemblage produced capacities for sexual bonds and connection, power imbalances were evident. For instance, Andiswa, a young female participant reported:

Andiswa: We do talk about how he is horny sometimes. He feels like sleeping with another woman…how he's going to do it when we meet each other. But if we meet there’s nothing going to happen.

Andiswa’s response is situated within an intricate web of materialities, including gender roles, social norms and power structures. These materialities shape her boyfriend’s need to assert desires by, “sleeping with another woman”. Being male and horny exalts male sexual entitlement often prioritised over women’s consent or desire. This idea is tied to patriarchal structures and conventional gender roles which normalise male sexual assertiveness while women are expected to be passive. As Andiswa notes her boyfriend’s desire for intimacy is not seen as linear but fluid and dynamic where he also imagines how he is going to engage in sexual acts when he sees his partner Andiswa, thus forming part of a complex system of desires, social forces and intentions. However, Andiswa rejects this fantasy and breaks away from traditional gender dynamics which emphasis the “dualistic constructions of male sexual agency and female sexual passivity” (Abbott et al., 2021: p. 306). She asserts her own capacity and boundaries within their intimate relationship by refusing to engage in sexual relations: “But if we meet there’s nothing going to happen”.

For Jezreel, flirting meant keeping her partner happy:

Jezreel: …I think I flirt with him cause… you know we love each other. You want to make each other happy and I want to make him happy… you know, sometimes I feel pressured to be the perfect girl for him and you know, I want to be perfect for him, satisfy him cos he is a man… When I flirt, I know that he will stick with me you know and I know he’s happy.

The affective element of flirting through social media constitutes Jezreel’s intimate relations and enables her to possess more control over the relationship (Gibbs et al., 2022). She is able to de-territorialise normative understandings of femininity and passivity. However, power imbalances territorialise her romantic relationship, where femininity promotes an active male sexuality. Within heterosexual power dynamics, femininity is subordinated, to be ‘perfect for him’, suggesting the ways in which Jezreel reinforces traditional norms that reinforce the gender binary. Jezreel is expected to portray particular ideals of femininity by fulfilling “the position of sexually desirable” “perfect girl”; by satisfying her partner (Ringrose, 2010: p. 604). This is also indicative of traditional expectations of masculinity which gives males power in intimate relationships. Traditional gender roles reinforced in the intimate assemblage also has effects for control and surveillance, as elaborated below.

Social expectations concerning male and female sexuality are entwined with emerging digital practices, that is, men should be assertive whilst women are tasked with emotional work (Connell, 2005). Some girls stay in controlling relationships, whilst some chose to break such relations (Willan et al., 2019). In our study, some girls reported jealousy and controlling behaviour from their partners regarding social media platforms. For example, Christine reported:

Christine: I cannot talk about Apps, that word must not come out from my mouth, Instagram or Facebook … I have nothing now except WhatsApp... He didn’t want me to have it… apparently, it’s like a girl having all those things is not right cause girls are too forward over there and like boys they’ll send you friend requests. You're not gonna think anything about it. You're just gonna be the friend. But you don't know what’s behind their heads… He made me delete all the boys of my phone. Whether they were like my best friends. Certain boys his like ‘don’t talk to them!’

Christine’s partner’s control over her engagement with social media platforms is a form of territorialisation by constraining her freedom to express her desires and connection with others online. Such constraints are gendered, underlining traditional gender norms which in turn shapes their experiences online. Christine’s experience with her partner’s regulation of her social media apps and activities is premised upon the Madonna-whore dichotomy. Girls who have access to many social media apps are seen as ‘forward” or ‘loose’ girls exposing them to the heterosexual male pool reflective in his reference to “you don’t know what’s behind their (boys) heads.” Girls who have limited number of social media platforms are viewed more positively. In complying with gender norms within heterosexual relationship dynamics, Christine subordinates to her boyfriend’s regulations and deletes all social media apps, besides WhatsApp. She is aware of this and tolerates such treatment, despite conveying ambivalence.

Some young girls like Jezreel however, exert their autonomy and freedom online when ending toxic relationships:

Jezreel: When I used to post pictures on Snapchat, and Facebook and even WhatsApp and even post videos on Tik Tok he (ex-partner) used to get upset. He used to say that other guys are going to see me and they're going to want me and I'm going to leave him. He was like, you know, very possessive. So, we did break up …But in that case, I think social media was bad where, you know, he was too controlling.

Jezreel refuses to be controlled. She transgresses feminine norms by breaking up with her boyfriend who was ‘possessive’, thus establishing a ‘line of flight’. Despite this, she is also complicit in reinforcing male control and power or re-territorialises the assemblage when she positions social media as “bad” instead of situating her experience within the broader context of gender power relations and her former partner’s controlling behaviour. Doing so reinforces the gender stereotypes of men as controlling and possessive by placing the blame for their relationship issues on social media without connecting these unequal relations to a territorialising assemblage of domination and control. Other girls in the study also referred to their boyfriends’ controlling behaviour:

Deane: … If he says good night and you are not going to sleep at the exact same time that he’s going to sleep there is gonna be a big issue. Like if he says goodnight, he..will wait for you to say goodnight as well and not be online and I'm not like… I have like a problem with sleeping so I can't sleep at night so I’m awake and that was like the hardest… it was a major argument. It was plenty of times.

Christine: … He’s like constantly messaging and stuff, even if I'm sleeping my phone will be ringing… And I'm online and in the night if I’m online, [he asks] why am I online? I just can’t like go like online at night…but only if we chat together…

Within the intimate assemblage which encompasses feelings, male control, surveillance and power dynamics, the girls talk about male control within intimate partner relationships. The data above highlights how masculinity functions to territorialise girls’ capacities and online freedom. Similarly, Gibbs et al. (2022, p. 1382) in South Africa, state that digital devices are utilised by male partners as an “extension of their repertoire of coercive control over female partners” and control over their phones. In their study, women in romantic relationships were expected to answer their calls and respond to messages immediately otherwise, they faced the risk of violence from their partners. Similar sentiments were found in Barter et al.’s (2022) study in the UK where male partners controlled their partner’s online activity, such as monitoring who they were friends with. Doing so emphasises heteronormativity as an affective force in shaping relationships and how male control and coercion are key aspects in this dominance (Abbott et al., 2021).

Whilst this section has brought attention to the territorialisation and re-territorialisation of the intimate assemblage pointing to gendered harms, female subordination and the prominence of hegemonic forms of masculinity, capacities for new becomings are also evident. In relation to the latter, this section illuminated the ways in which girls are able to express themselves within the assemblage and illuminate the nuanced ways through which their own capacities are constrained. In other words, whilst they do not have the vocabulary to understand gender power dynamics as in the case of Jezreel who blames social media instead of toxic power inequalities, the girls highlight their entanglement within the intimate assemblage and their resistance emphasising new ways of becoming. As noted by Mendes et al. (2019) digital technologies may reinforce gender inequalities and violence but they may also raise levels of awareness and permit some sense of justice as girls. The girls orientate the assemblage towards inequalities, control and power but in doing so they also rupture the dynamics as they illustrate radical potential in ‘breaking’ up with abusive partners.

Conclusion

Adopting a new feminist materialist lens, this paper contributes to the existing body of literature that provides empirical insights in the ways in which digital intimate connections are forged and shaped by gender power dynamics (Bhana, 2023; Marston, 2024; Naezer, 2018; Renold and Ringrose, 2017). By engaging with young people’s digital desires, the study challenges the over-coded ways in which young people’s online engagements are usually rooted in narratives of risk. Our findings illustrate how diverse elements entangle and intra-act to produce digital intimacies. Going beyond traditional notions of intimacy. Social media platforms produces online sexual intimate connections through selfies, sexting, video calls and emojis which operate together in the process of becoming intimate. Young people’s online engagement was found to be pleasurable, adventurous and rewarding (Naezer, 2018). However, as young people navigate the online landscape, gender norms are reinforced which limits potential to express sexual desires. We found the entrenchment of power dynamics in heterosexual relations as boys monitored and controlled their partners by placing their access to social media platforms under surveillance. Conversely, while the girls in this study contested these dynamics, they too were complicit in fostering these inequalities.

These findings highlight the need for further intervention within the South African context to address gender power structures and inequalities persistent in heterosexual relations. There is also a pressing need to address relationship dynamics, digital intimacies and young masculinities and femininities. In Woodley et al.’s, (2024: 7) study of young people and digital sexual intimacies, a common message to them in school is “Don’t”. So far in South Africa, these intimate connections and social media platforms have evaded the focus on policies and school guidelines. Schools may be one entity in the assemblage that could provide productive spaces through the curriculum for young people to voice their views and feelings around sexuality and healthy intimate connections (Ngabaza and Shefer, 2019). Recognising how young people negotiate intimacies on social media platforms is significant in understanding the importance of these online spaces in enhancing intimate bonds of connection, heterosexual closeness and desire while addressing gender norms and inequalities that constrain girls’ capacities for sexual expression and intimacy. We argue alongside Woodley et al. (2024) to move discussions with young people’s digital intimacies away from ‘Don’t’ to a more nuanced approach that recognises their desires, pleasures and constraints towards a position that advocates for ‘Do’ tell us about your digital sexual encounters. Moreover, any effort to address young digital sexualities has to recognise the vitality of the assemblage and its intra-active capacities beyond the human alone.