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Sexy Self-Pleasure: Mindful Healing Post Break-Up

Sex was the one area my partner and I got right every time.

It didn’t matter what issues were going on, how long we had been apart, or if we were upset with one another. Sex was an extension of our emotional connection with one another.

We could communicate with our bodies better than with words. It cemented our bond, brought us together, and helped us recover from hurt, separation, and disagreements.

Each time we broke up, something died inside me, and sex with anyone else was the farthest thing from my mind. I knew as a demisexual person, sex was not something I could engage in with just anyone. A strong emotional bond was essential. The devastation of our breakups and the fallout from the emotional disentanglement meant I would shut down completely and could no longer connect with someone else in a romantic or sexual way.

I don’t crave touch for the sake of it. I craved him, his skin, his voice, his kiss, his body. No one else could replace that.

How was I to heal from the loss?

One of the many lessons of life I had learned to embrace was my own self-pleasure. What I discovered is this is the key to becoming a fantastic lover. If we know our own bodies and embrace our own pleasure, we can open ourselves freely to another.

 

 

I found this to be true. It was an awakening as I left a religion of oppression that attempted to own my agency, my body, and subjugate my pleasure. The discoveries we made with each other could be an entire book all on its own.

The first few times, post-breakup, I attempted to touch myself, but I couldn’t help thinking of him and crying in the fetal position on my bed. He invaded my mind and my body. How was I ever to heal in a healthy way?

After a month of intense weekly therapy, daily journaling, walking until I was numb, and sleeping until I could no longer stay in bed, I attempted to love myself in the most sensual ways possible.

Of course, he came to my mind. Of course, I fantasized and remembered. Of course, I wished for his kiss, his touch, his skin against mine to calm and soothe my nervous system. I believed this was the one way I could lay still and calm, in his arms, for hours.

The mind is a horrible and wonderful place.

I embraced the thoughts, the longing, and the feelings flooding my mind and my body.

He was there in the room as my fingers caressed every part of my skin. Tears may have fallen—from his absence and the moments I wished we could have again but never will. The imprint on the body lasts for a long time. The body remembers.

As I welcomed the pleasure, my mind opened to the moments I didn’t want to forget and couldn’t help remembering. I remembered the times we spent exploring every part of our bodies, entangled in bliss and peace. Emotionally, I grew up with him. I learned who I truly was and who I wasn’t.

Then I lay in the stillness of my room. My hand resting on my heart and my throbbing pussy. I am breathing in and breathing out. Letting it all in and letting it all go. Every thought, feeling, and desire. My past, my present moment, and the future I never expected.

I am whole and free.

And in the loving pleasure of myself, I am healing to embrace all of me.

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