How sex and intimacy with others can evoke the same flavour of unknown, anticipation and need to find solid ground.

Erotic energy is like the wind.

It can blow fast and hard, exciting us with the power of pleasure.

It can whip us into a frenzy of ecstasy and then whisper gently and softly on our cheek.

It can lift our feet off the ground and evoke anxiety and fear.

It can invite us into the unknown realms of discovery and exploration.

What do we anchor to in these experiences?

How do we prepare and contain what is possibly to come?

How do we ensure our house is in order and we are ready?

My suggestion…is to learn and embodied the essential skills of authentic consent.

In a world where pleasure is often shrouded in confusion and silence, the journey towards an erotically empowered life invites us to reclaim our bodies and desires with compassion and courage. Every person’s path is unique, woven from the threads of personal experience and societal narratives that have shaped our understanding of intimacy. By embracing curiosity as our guiding star, we can gently peel away layers of shame and misconception, allowing ourselves to explore the rich tapestry of connection that breathes life into our relationships. Here, we nurture a space where conversations flourish, learning becomes a joyful exploration, and our inherent capacity for pleasure is not only recognised but celebrated, revitalising our essence and enriching our shared humanity.

Most recently I am noticing how difficult it can still be for me to say “no” to another person.

To turn down their offer, however wonderful it might all sound.

To say no thanks, to their desires and invitations, often knowing that my response will most likely land hard.

To be with another in their experience of disappointment, without rescuing or minimising what it evokes in each of us.

To meet their expectation with softness and care, while honouring the limits I feel within myself.

This is a practice I have explored for many years, and the deeper I go the more edges I find.

At times I feel skilled and embodied in my awareness.

I can stay in my lane and not fall on the trip wires hidden beneath the surface of my knowing.

I can say no, without needing to puff myself up in a masquerade of bigness.

I can decline without blowing my discomfort through another.

Other times, the “no” still sticks in my throat and feels almost impossible to say.

Our experiences of trauma shapes our nervous systems and impacts how we navigate sex and intimacy. Read how decades of working as a sexual trauma counsellor has left its mark on me.

Have you ever had the experience of being in the presence of another human being, who deeply knows and cherishes their sexual self and is able to ‘sit back’ with it in their own body.

A person who can slow down and bring themself to the present moment with nowhere else to be.
Someone with whom you feel so comfortably seen without a word being spoken.
Whose touch feels so electric as they attune to the unique felt sense of you.

Chances are, if you have had this experience, it still lives in your body and memory, and you are feeling it right now as you read.

This is the essence of good sex. It is our ability to slow down and have a bandwidth to pay attention, that allows us to step out of life’s fast performance and agenda lane, and into the depth and beauty of now.