Lessons I Learned From Mindful Masturbation After Trauma

By Marlee Liss

When I was in high school, I took pride in the fact that I did not touch myself. I had such deeply internalized beliefs around my desire and my body being ‘too much’. I was taught that masturbation was a thing for boys to do, as expressions of sexuality were deemed ‘unladylike’. I was even given rhetoric that told me that I didn’t need to touch myself because if I was pretty/acceptable/lovable enough, boys would do that for me. 

Not so fun fact: the Latin Root word of masturbation translates to ‘to pollute with one's hands’. In the Oxford English Dictionary, masturbation is a compound of the Latin root words manus (hand) and stuprare (to defile). 

For years, I avoided touching myself at all costs. All of that conditioning and shame trumping any sense of desire. 

It wasn’t until I found somatic sex education and sex positive 2SLGBTQIA+ community that things began to shift. I sought out these spaces of healing and empowerment after experiencing sexual trauma in 2016. At the time, I felt like my relationship to my body was completely severed. On a somatic level, self-blame showed up as tension and hurt expressed as numbness. I felt afraid of my sexuality itself and I felt confused about the difference between genuine pleasure and physical arousal.

To add to the complexity of that time period, I was also questioning my sexuality and confronting my attraction to women and non-binary folk. On top of all of the internalized homophobia, I was having trouble deciphering between whether I was actually gay or just temporarily traumatized (boooo @compulsory heterosexuality). Finding these communities was pivotal for me because I was instantly surrounded by representation, validation, and permission to explore eroticism beyond societal ‘shoulds’ and expectations.

At the time, connecting intimately with others felt too triggering. It felt like my relationship to my sexuality was back at ground zero, like all of a sudden I knew nothing about myself. I didn’t know what I liked and didn’t like. I didn’t know if I’d feel safe during orgasm or if orgasm was even possible for me. So, when my Somatic Sex Education studies led me to discover Mindful Erotic Practice (also called Mindful Self-Pleasure) I was excited, a little desparate, and intrigued.

Mindful Erotic Practice basically invites folks to be in full somatic awareness (body-based presence) and to repeatedly ask the question: What would allow me to connect with pleasure right now? The keys are self-consent, being honest with yourself, and committing to your learning zone - which means a  balance of expanding comfort zone and honouring limits. The practice felt terrifying and awkward to me at first. But with time it began to feel like a space of refuge, safety, empowerment and healing. Some days my practice looked like napping, dancing, bathtime and eating pizza. Other days, my practice looked like self-massage, discovering vibrators and ethical porn and enjoying my own erotic touch.

Regardless of what I was doing, the underlying constant and source of sensual healing was that I was practicing loving dialogue with my body and giving myself permission to feel pleasure. I got to know my likes and my limits, while affirming my right to such desires and boundaries. I learned to distinguish between what felt edgy and exciting verses what felt downright unsafe. I became skilled at commitment to enjoying touch rather than enduring it. I got to explore what it’s like to use my sensations as a compass for touch, rather than following societal scripts and expectations.

With time and this ongoing practice of pleasure, I eventually felt safe and empowered to share intimacy with others again. Probably more safe and empowered than I had ever before, even prior to trauma. The more I spent time in diverse, sex positive communities, the more I was able to validate my erotic expression as a trauma survivor and a queer woman. Now I take so much pride in my lesbian identity and my sexual expression. I’m a gay girl who loves to fuck and I think that self-pleasure is an essential part of everyone’s life, regardless of whether or not you’re in relationship(s). 

Mindful Erotic Practice is something that I teach my clients as a sensuality coach, reminding them that self-pleasure looks different for everyone but is absolutely a right for us all. Self-pleasure is such a powerful avenue for reclamation and also just, making yourself cum is hot. 

Journal Prompts: 

Past: What has your relationship to self-pleasure been in the past? What did you learn about self-pleasure? Where did you get these messages?

Present: What is your relationship to self-pleasure right now? How often do you self-pleasure and what does this look/feel like for you?

Future: What do you want your relationship to self-pleasure to be? What are you curious about exploring? How do you want it to feel? How can you bring more pleasure into your relationship with yourself? 

Marlee Liss is a queer, Jewish author, restorative justice advocate, award-winning speaker and somatic sensuality coach. Her work has been featured in Forbes, Huff Post, Buzzfeed, Mel Robbins Show and more.  If you’re looking for support around your own journey with sensual reclamation, transforming trauma and claiming embodied pleasure, you can learn about Marlee’s coaching programs and book a Free Connect Call with her/her team at www.marleeliss.com/SWA - You can follow her on IG @marleeliss,  tune into her podcast on Spotify or Apple Podcasts at ‘The Sensual Revolution’ or dive into her Free Training on Sensual Self-Love & Embodied Safety at marleeliss.com/freetraining