Pleasure as Medicine

Yes, you read that correctly, Kink, BDSM and living a life that prioritizes pleasure and intimacy has revolutionized how I view and manage my non-apparent disabilities. Now, I can’t imagine my life without these kinky outlets and alternative forms of relief.

If you have struggled with anything like I have and wondered why the prescribe meds don’t work and you still feel miserable, this post is for you.

After being diagnosed with Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), my baseline state was divided between a hypervigilant nervous system that wouldn’t turn off and a depressive one that sometimes made me feel like I had no reason to turn it back on. I could be exhausted and overstimulated at the same time, still can to this day if I don’t maintain my grounding practices. My body can feel like it’s constantly waiting for something terrible to happen while my mind simultaneously wants to disappear from the entire experience of being alive altogether. Living with this topsy turvy thought process while also trying to be a single mom, eldest daughter, relationship coach and content creator has ALWAYS been a challenge (I just make it look good, and that’s part of my magic).

When no one is looking, I tend to break down and struggle A LOT, especially if I’m exhausted from a hypervigilant day of just trying to “be okay”.

Traditional clinical support gave me language for what was happening to me, but it never helped me understand the symptoms, patterns, triggers or relieving aids I could personally use to combat my symptoms. Understanding what my nervous system was doing and actually learning how to feel safe inside of my body were two very different things. I needed a customized way to treat myself that went beyond the textbook, clinical or western medicinal answers I was being given.

And somewhere along the way, I discovered something I wasn’t expecting: Pleasure can be grounding, intensity can be healing, and being guided in submissive kinky ways made me feel deeply seen and cared for. Having someone ask me what I wanted, what I didn’t want, what I could tolerate, what would make me feel safe, and what would make me feel unsafe gave me freedom and negotiated control that I had never experienced before. Eventually, I realized that one of the places I felt the most grounded, the most connected to my body, the most myself was in highly negotiated pleasure environments and intentional BDSM.

Just as I was coming to terms with the fact that I may be a kinky girly who not only likes but NEEDS these practices to maintain a healthy homeostasis and mental baseline, my therapist after noticing I was struggling in solitude, suggested that I should “let someone hold me and provide comforting, grounding intimacy without judging myself for it”. At the time, I was in the middle of a 9 month dry spell/accidental celibacy and the lack of intimacy in my life was painfully obvious. Lol. I was trying so hard to be independent and push myself to heal alone that my body started shutting down, my depression markers increased, my anxiety doubled and I started having panic attacks; not exclusively due to my independence, but more so because I was forcing myself to be okay and ignoring my body’s desire for touch, even when my nervous system was screaming for it. I’ve come to realize that am literally less healthy when I’m not experiencing kink or some sort of sensory, orgasmic pleasure on the regular - that is a fact of my personal care and comfort I simply cannot ignore now. It’s not worth the panic attacks or sensory overload episodes to pretend I don’t need anybody, or any type of kinky touch, or just a hug - I VERY MUCH DO and there’s no shame in that.

This doesn’t mean kink cured my mental health conditions - it means kink gave me a spiritual and somatic understanding of my body that I desperately needed. It taught me things about autonomy, sensation, trust, surrender, boundaries, pleasure, communication, and aftercare that I never realized I was hungry for.

It changed the way I see play, care and healing as well.

So What Does This Actually Mean?

To the outside world, it may look like I’m just a freak who overshares, and sometimes that’s true too, lol. But transparently, if something shifted your reality for the better, awakened parts of your soul you didn’t even know were asleep, and freed your spirit beyond words… wouldn’t you want to tell everybody you could about it too?

That’s what this level of intimacy, play, kink, and BDSM is to me. It isn’t just sex, it isn’t just being tied up, spanked, teased, dominated, or submissive. It’s learning how to listen to my body… that my “no” matters just as much as my “yes”, that surrender can be a choice, and that intensity doesn’t automatically mean danger.

I am learning that pleasure does not have to be earned! I do not have to starve for it... and maybe most importantly, needing touch, intimacy, comfort, connection, and sensory experiences does not make me weak, needy, broken, or incapable of being independent.

Also, being a polyamorous woman who champions alternative relationship styles allows me to champion these unique kink connections without the need for every play partner to become a life long commitment. They can serve their purpose as kinky members of my community who I trust in intimate spaces or develop into full blown relationships with absolutely NO pressure to be defined further. I have the freedom to chose my relational intensity and frequency, which is also pivotal for maintaining my independence and not losing myself to find a man or shrink for a relationship with some one else.

I am still responsible for my mental health. I still have difficult days and uncontrolled symptoms. I still have moments where my nervous system gets completely overwhelmed. Kink didn’t cure my mental health conditions, but it gave me a language for my body that I desperately needed and coping mechanisms no prescription or medical journal would know to recommend. Once I learned how to speak my body’s language, I stopped treating my body’s needs like an inconvenience or annoyance and started listening and providing care.

So, if you’re curious about what this can look like in practice, or you’re simply interested in exploring pleasure, sensation, and intentional intimacy in a new way, here are a few places you can start.

6 Ways to Incorporate Kinky Play Into Your Pleasure Experiences

For grounding, connection, healing, curiosity… or just because it’s fun.

1. Intentional Sensual Touch

Start with yourself OR invite a trusted partner into the experience.

Slow down enough to actually notice your body and touch the places you usually ignore. Explore the places that crave attention. Use your hands, fingertips, feathers, soft fabrics, leather, massage tools, or whatever sensations feel good to you.

Don’t immediately turn it into a race toward orgasm, instead ground into each sensation. Be present. Let yourself experience the pleasure of being noticed by your own hands.

And if you want to intensify it or get that O at the end? Good. Do that too.

The point isn’t to perform pleasure correctly or even to edge your orgasms if they happen (which I personally HATE as someone whose already deprived). The point is to give your body permission to experience sensation without judgment and haste.

Touch yourself or let someone touch you until you feel fulfilled, there’s no such thing as too much.

2. Temperature Play 🧊

Ice isn’t just for drinks, Boo!

Try introducing temperature differences into consensual play: warm towels, cool metal objects, hot wax, frozen glass wands/dildos, ice cubes, warm water, cool water, or alternating sensations.

Temperature can give your brain something immediate and physical to focus on, which can make sensory awareness feel much easier than trying to sit perfectly still and “clear your mind.”

For some of us with busy brains, feeling is easier than thinking our way into calm.

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