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A new study published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior highlights how sexuality plays a pivotal, and often painful, role in the lives of individuals who leave ultra-Orthodox Jewish communities. Drawing from 37 in-depth interviews with disaffiliates in Israel, the research uncovers how disaffiliation can lead to experiences of sexual confusion, exploitation, and identity conflict, as individuals navigate between two vastly different worlds.
The researchers aimed to better understand the sexual experiences and challenges faced by ultra-Orthodox disaffiliates—a population that has grown in recent years. According to the Israel Democracy Institute, over 13% of ultra-Orthodox Israelis between the ages of 20 and 64 eventually leave their religious communities, with young men between 16 and 25 being the most likely to disaffiliate. Despite this trend, the psychological and social implications of such a major life transition—particularly regarding sexuality and intimate relationships—have received little scholarly attention.
Sex and sexuality are highly regulated and taboo in ultra-Orthodox communities. From early childhood, boys and girls are raised in separate spheres, and any conversation about sexuality is strictly limited, if not completely absent. Boys are often warned about masturbation through extreme religious teachings that associate it with moral and spiritual downfall. Girls, meanwhile, may receive some instruction about menstruation but typically no broader sex education. Before marriage, prospective brides and grooms receive guidance from religious instructors—but this instruction is often framed within religious purity laws and avoids direct conversation about consent, pleasure, or body autonomy.
Against this backdrop, disaffiliating from the ultra-Orthodox world can trigger a period of deep uncertainty. Using a qualitative method called interpretative phenomenological analysis, the researchers interviewed 25 men and 12 women who had disaffiliated within the past one to ten years. All participants had been educated in ultra-Orthodox institutions at least through age 18 and had adopted a secular lifestyle. Interviews lasted between one and two hours, conducted either in person or online, and were later transcribed, translated, and thematically analyzed.
One major theme that emerged from the interviews was the role of sexual trauma. Many participants reported experiencing sexual abuse during childhood—experiences that were not acknowledged or addressed within their communities. For some, this trauma was a key factor in their decision to leave. Participants described feeling isolated and silenced, with no safe space to process or report what had happened. Several stated outright that if they had been able to talk about the abuse, they might not have chosen to disaffiliate.
In addition to trauma, participants consistently spoke about a severe lack of knowledge regarding sex, relationships, and the human body. This knowledge gap left many unprepared for interactions in secular society, where dating norms, expectations around consent, and sexual expression differ dramatically from those in ultra-Orthodox life. Several interviewees described early sexual experiences as confusing or even exploitative. Others said they inadvertently crossed social boundaries themselves—making inappropriate comments or gestures due to ignorance of secular customs. In some cases, this ignorance resulted in serious social consequences or led to behaviors that the participants later recognized as harmful.
Both men and women reported difficulties navigating intimacy. Some men, for instance, struggled with extreme anxiety around sexual thoughts and behaviors, having internalized the idea that these desires were sinful or perverse. Women often felt uncertain about how to dress or behave, sometimes imitating secular norms without fully understanding how those behaviors might be interpreted. Participants described feeling “scriptless,” lacking the social and cultural tools to navigate their new environment with confidence.
In this in-between space, participants experienced what the researchers called a “liminal” state—neither fully part of the ultra-Orthodox world nor fully integrated into secular society. For some, this was a temporary phase marked by rapid learning and adaptation. For others, it became a more enduring identity struggle, where aspects of both cultures coexisted uncomfortably. The researchers drew on the sociological concept of “cleft habitus” to describe this internal tension: a feeling of being caught between two sets of values, languages, and behaviors that cannot be easily reconciled.
Participants filled their knowledge gaps in various ways. The internet was the most commonly cited source of sexual information, sometimes humorously referred to as “Rabbi Google.” Others learned through trial and error, guidance from partners, or conversations with fellow disaffiliates. New friends—both secular and formerly religious—played a major role in helping individuals navigate their new sexual realities.
Sexual behavior varied widely among participants. Some embraced their newfound freedom with enthusiasm, engaging in multiple casual relationships or exploring aspects of their sexuality they had previously repressed. Others responded with fear or avoidance, still haunted by shame and anxiety from their upbringing. Some male participants even preferred to use traditional ultra-Orthodox dating methods—such as matchmaking—to avoid the stress and uncertainty of secular dating.
Body image also changed significantly after disaffiliation. Participants reported becoming more self-conscious about their appearance, often joining gyms, modifying their diet, or updating their wardrobe to fit secular standards. In ultra-Orthodox communities, modesty norms and cultural expectations typically discourage focus on physical appearance, especially for men. Once outside that environment, individuals became aware of how appearance influences social and romantic interactions.
Despite the wide range of personal experiences, one common thread was a sense of vulnerability. Disaffiliates lacked the social protections and cultural fluency needed to navigate secular sexual norms, making them more susceptible to exploitation and misunderstanding. Some female participants described being manipulated into sexual situations under false pretenses. Some male participants admitted to acting inappropriately without realizing it, sometimes interpreting friendly gestures or clothing styles as sexual signals.
The researchers acknowledge that their study has limitations. The sample was limited to disaffiliates from Ashkenazi ultra-Orthodox backgrounds in Israel and may not represent other Jewish or religious communities. The snowball sampling method could also have introduced bias. Future research should explore the experiences of disaffiliates from different religious traditions and cultural backgrounds, using both qualitative and quantitative methods to build a more comprehensive understanding of this emerging population.
The study, “Religious Disaffiliates’ Experiences and Challenges with Sex, Sexuality, and Body Image,” was authored by Zvika Orr, Beth G. Zalcman, Anat Romem, and Ronit Pinchas‑Mizrachi.