Posts by sacred body love
Coming Home to My Body
It’s 10:10 on a Thursday morning, and I’m still in bed. I slept until about eight, made my coffee with orange blossom honey and half-and-half, did the New York Times games, and then, instead of starting work, I climbed back under the covers. I reached for my crystal egg, put a little aloe lubricant on…
Read MoreWhen I don’t ignore my body, I don’t disappear
I’m noticing a connection. On Saturday when I saw M., we tried sitting down to talk. Almost immediately, I felt uncomfortable. There really isn’t a comfortable way to sit in that room. He even admitted that. Usually he takes the chair and I sit on that weird folded futon. It’s not comfortable. And there have…
Read MoreWhen Longing Feels Like Love
Why emotional intensity, sensual connection, and longing can feel like love I’ve spent years trying to understand why certain connections affected me so deeply. But what feels more true now is this: Something was happening inside me that I didn’t understand. There were moments that felt undeniable. Touch. Presence. Being close to someone in a…
Read MoreThe Places I Stayed Too Long
There’s a kind of connection that feels real in the body before it ever becomes real in a life. That’s where I have lived. Not in relationships that were clearly chosen and built over time, but in moments—touch, eye contact, laughter, shared space, the feeling of being wanted for a second, an hour, a night.…
Read MoreLearning to Leave What I Love
There is a kind of intimacy that doesn’t just touch your body—it reorganizes it. It opens pathways you didn’t know were there. It teaches you how to feel, how to soften, how to let yourself be met. And then, sometimes, it leaves you with that opening… without the person who helped you find it. That’s…
Read Morepresence
I’m noticing a connection. On Saturday when I saw M., we tried sitting down to talk. Almost immediately, I felt uncomfortable. There really isn’t a comfortable way to sit in that room. He even admitted that. Usually he takes the chair and I sit on the weird folded futon. It’s not comfortable. And there have…
Read MoreIf We Met Again
It begins as if I am dreaming. The air between us is charged, the way it used to hum before a storm. I don’t know if it’s memory or premonition, only that my body recognizes him before my mind does. The space is the same, but something has changed. There is no tension of expectation,…
Read MoreI Don’t Know What It Means
Here’s something I’ve been carrying for years, something I’ve never really spoken about until now. One of the hardest parts of intimacy with men for me is understanding what their actions mean. I remember one session with M. where I was being massaged and he put his cock in my hand. I felt it there…
Read MoreTaking Courage to Slow Down
For years, I experienced sex in a way that felt like I had no real agency over the pace or sequence of events, over how my body was touched and enjoyed, and around my feelings of pleasure, overwhelm, discomfort or whatever felt like too much, not enough, or more of what was just right. The…
Read Morespace between
I keep circling the same question: does S feel something for me beyond our sessions? For more than three years, S has touched me, held me, witnessed me. We’ve moved between massage and conscious intimacy, weaving back and forth across boundaries that feel both clear and porous. The exploration of our naked bodies never feels…
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