For many neurodivergent people, sex isn’t just about desire—it’s about managing the overwhelming flood of sensory input that can come with it. And few things derail intimacy faster than condoms, lube, and other sex “tools” that many of us use regularly.
The smell of the latex. The slick, gloopy feel of lube. The crinkle of a foil wrapper in a quiet room. For people with sensory processing differences—common in autism, ADHD, and other forms of neurodivergence—these aren’t minor annoyances. They’re full-blown barriers to pleasure, and sometimes, to protection.
This is part of a much broader, often overlooked public health issue. Neurodivergent individuals—particularly those with autism or ADHD—experience the world differently. That includes sex. Sensory sensitivities can make even well-intentioned efforts at safer sex feel intolerable. And when condoms feel like sandpaper, smell like balloons, or sound like static, it’s no surprise that many people skip them entirely.
Mainstream conversations about condom use rarely account for these challenges. But that’s starting to change. Brands like ONE® are beginning to innovate for inclusion, creating ultra-soft materials, expanding custom sizing options, and developing packaging designed to reduce sensory stress. These changes aren’t just about comfort—they’re about accessibility.
“Sensory overload during intimacy is a very common challenge. Our best advice is to prepare and communicate. Feel your condoms and play with your tools ahead of time, alone, and find the formula that works for you. When you do play with a partner, be open and honest about your sensory preferences. Conversation is the key to enhanced pleasure, no matter your neurology,” Milla Impola, a sex, condom, and lube expert at ONE®, told VICE.
Culturally, we’re also seeing a shift in how sensory sensitivity is understood. A recent documentary, Sensory Overload, explores how light, sound, texture, and other environmental inputs affect daily life for neurodivergent people. The bedroom, of course, is part of that equation—and often one of the most overlooked.
As the conversation expands, so does the potential for real change. From inclusive sex ed to sex tech that’s customizable and sensory-friendly, the future of pleasure is slowly becoming more adaptive.
Creating an accessible sexual experience means rethinking the idea that one-size-fits-all, whether it’s a condom, a lubricant, or an expectation. It means acknowledging that pleasure can’t exist without comfort, and that consent includes the body and the nervous system.
“We believe everyone deserves sexual health products and resources tailored for their lived experience. Neurodivergent people deserve pleasure just as much as everyone else,” Impola added.
For many neurodivergent people, a more thoughtful, sensory-aware approach to intimacy isn’t just a nice idea. It’s the difference between shutting down and actually showing up.
The post Safe Sex Is Harder if You’re Neurodivergent, But It Doesn’t Have to Be appeared first on VICE.
