Picture a man standing at the bar of his favorite lounge, swirling a glass of whiskey. At 37, he has everything: a well-paying job on Lagos island, routine trips to Canada, and a roster of lovers. A woman in red leans in to light a cigarette, and he watches, amused. “That’s my type,” he often tells his friends. But when it comes to marriage, his taste changes. On a December afternoon, he steps off a plane in his hometown, where his mother has arranged introductions. A week later, he stands before a wide-eyed bride in white, handpicked for her innocence. The wedding is grand. The vows are sacred. None of it stops him. At night, Akin still finds his way back to smoky bars and knowing smiles.
The man’s story illustrates a psychological pattern theorized by Sigmund Freud as the Madonna-Whore Complex (MWC). Here, men box women into two mutually exclusive archetypes: the virtuous Madonna and the promiscuous whore. Men affected by this complex often develop a compartmentalized view of feminine sexuality and virtue, placing women they respect, often those resembling maternal figures, in the Madonna category, viewing them as worthy of devotion but devoid of sexual appeal. Conversely, they deem “whores” suitable for physical gratification but unworthy of deeper emotional connection or respect.
Historically, societies have placed a premium on female purity from ancient Mesopotamia to the courts of Bronze Age Europe. Evolutionary psychologists such as Buss and Schmitt suggest it stems from concerns about paternal certainty. They argue that because human offspring require prolonged care, men historically favored women who were perceived as faithful to ensure their genetic legacy. A 2023 paper by Steven Hertler and colleagues notes this pattern is even more pronounced in societies with scarce resources, where men prioritize control over women’s sexuality.
The ancient impulse to police women’s sexual behavior has not disappeared, only evolved, adapting to new media and contexts. Today, social media has become one of the most visible arenas where these age-old dynamics play out, especially in the treatment of women in the public eye. Nigerian female celebrities like Ayra Starr, Bloody Civilian, and Tiwa Savage regularly face public backlash for their image choices, often framed as transgressions against acceptable femininity.
Last year, when singer Simi was photographed in a bikini at the beach with her husband, online discourse, particularly from men on X (formerly Twitter), quickly morphed into backlash. Many insisted that as a married woman and mother, she should “know better” than to dress that way, as though motherhood and personal freedom, especially in how one dresses, are somehow incompatible. These reactions reveal how patriarchy continues to assert control over women’s bodies and autonomy. The bikini, a standard piece of swimwear, was sexualized not by Simi’s choice but by the lens through which her body was viewed.
Feminist scholar Sylvia Walby identifies the Madonna-Whore Complex as one of the many mechanisms through which patriarchy disciplines women, forcing them into rigid identities: either the virtuous, respectable Madonna or the overtly sexual, morally suspect Whore. There is no allowance for women to exist in between, and this is precisely why Simi’s bikini sparked outrage. For many, her status as a wife and mother placed her squarely in the Madonna category. But by choosing to wear a bikini, a symbol often perceived as sexual or “inappropriate,” she stepped outside the boundaries that patriarchy had drawn for her. The real offense wasn’t the bikini, but her refusal to pick a side. Her self-expression disrupted the binary, and in doing so, challenged the very framework through which control is maintained.
Additionally, the Madonna-Whore Complex creates a damaging paradox in marriage where women are forced to navigate impossible expectations. The script expects a woman to be the Madonna before marriage, pure and modest, then flip into the Whore in the bedroom: adventurous, insatiable, and sexually available as a wife. Yet even within this shift, there’s an unspoken rule: certain sexual expressions are reserved for girlfriends or mistresses, not respectable wives. The double bind is that what makes a woman “marriage material” often renders her, in her husband’s eyes, unfit for sexual exploration, pushing him to seek it elsewhere.
Pop culture, religion, and upbringing all reinforce the idea that sexuality is something women give, not own. In films, TV shows, and even music videos, women are either pedestalized as saintly and virtuous or hypersexualized for male pleasure, rarely both. The “wife material” love interest is often quiet, nurturing, and emotionally available, while the “side chick” or fantasy figure exists only to fulfill carnal desire. From Jane the Virgin to Sex and the City, Game of Thrones to Bridgerton, we’re fed narratives where women are punished for occupying the middle ground, trying to be sensual, respected, and desired.
Many women have been conditioned for years to suppress sexual desire. Then, suddenly, they’re expected to access a confident and uninhibited sexual self within the confines of marriage, often without tools, language, or even the permission to do so. The result is confusion and an invisible labor of performance. A 2024 study on the orgasm gap in heterosexual relationships found that men orgasm in 70–85% of sexual encounters, while women do so only 46–58% of the time. While anatomy and communication styles play a role, the roots of this disparity go deeper. Internalized and institutionalized shame, sexual repression, and the absence of sex-positive education leave many women disconnected from their pleasure. Not only does the MWC stifle women’s sexual agency, it denies them the right to want, to explore, and to experience sex on their own terms. In Beyoncé’s Partition, she confronts the Madonna-Whore dichotomy head-on: “He Monica Lewinsky’d all on my gown,” she sings in a bold, sexually explicit lyric referencing the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal. But unlike Monica, Beyoncé is describing sex with her husband, reclaiming a moment of scandalized female sexuality within the bounds of marriage. The tension lies in the question she poses: Can a wife be sexually explicit and still be respected?
At its core, the MWC represents a crisis of identity. Women find themselves caught not just between Madonna and the Whore, but between authenticity and social acceptance. They learn to perform: the performance of purity to secure marriage, the performance of restraint to avoid being seen as promiscuous, the performance of modesty to escape judgment, and the performance of submissiveness to keep a home intact. Many wake up years into their lives, realizing they have lost themselves in these performances.
The Madonna-Whore complex is universal, and it remains entrenched enough to shape how men view women and, crucially, how women view themselves. The men believe women are either to be respected and protected, or desired and consumed. This informs everything from dating preferences to sexual behavior, even determining who is considered “wifey material” versus who is “just for fun.” But the impact doesn’t stop at male perception. Women, too, internalize these binaries, often unconsciously. From an early age, many girls are taught to “protect their virtue,” to tone down their appearance, to be wary of expressing desire. This social conditioning encourages women to self-censor, compartmentalizing their identities, feeling shame for wanting pleasure, and feeling conflicted when they do express sexuality. Some may oscillate between the two poles, trying to be desirable but not “too much,” modest but not “boring.” Others may overcorrect in one direction, fearing the social and emotional penalties that come with being miscategorized.
Progress requires both individual and societal change. Men must confront the biases they’ve inherited and upheld; women must be allowed to reclaim their full selves without fear of judgment. And society as a whole must ask itself: Why are women still forced to choose between being respected and being real? Dismantling centuries of cultural conditioning won’t happen overnight, but it begins with naming the systems that bind us. The Madonna-Whore Complex is a living framework that continues to shape how women are seen and how they see themselves. True liberation lies in rejecting these false binaries and affirming a simple truth, women deserve to exist wholly, unapologetically, as people.
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