Coming Home to My Body:
My Journey to Sexological Bodywork

Sexological bodywork offers something rare and profound: a chance to experience your body as an ally, a compass, and a source of untapped power—not a problem to be fixed or a mystery to be solved. Unlike medical approaches like pelvic physical therapy, which often focus on diagnosis and treatment, sexological bodywork invites you into an entirely different relationship with your body. This is about learning to trust the sensations, emotions, and signals within you, seeing your body as a vibrant, living inspiration and a wellspring of pleasure.

In my own journey, I craved something that didn’t reduce me to symptoms or abstractions. I needed more than someone telling me how I “should” feel—I needed to actually feel it for myself. After years of navigating the quiet aftermath of sexual assault in my youth and the confusing, blurry boundaries of intimate trauma in my adolescence, I reached a breaking point. I was tired of carrying the weight of shame, of numbness, of feeling like a stranger in my own skin. I knew I was ready for something real.

What I didn’t know at the time was how deeply I needed a language that wasn’t just in my head but spoke to my body—the language of embodiment. Words that could describe what it actually felt like to live in my skin, to move through the world with all of my sensations and emotions alive and integrated. That’s when I found somatics.

I still remember the exact moment I stumbled upon a podcast where a sexological bodyworker was being interviewed. They spoke with a clarity and reverence I’d never encountered before—describing the body as not just something to “fix” or “optimize,” but as a place of incredible beauty, pleasure, and wisdom. They talked about bringing alignment and joy back into the erotic self, not through quick fixes or surface-level advice, but by helping people reconnect to their bodies in deeply personal, profound ways.

For the first time, I felt like someone understood the depths of what I was seeking. This wasn’t about patching things up; it was about reclaiming my whole self—my body, my pleasure, my power. I finally saw the possibility of living in a body that didn’t feel heavy with shame or disconnected from joy, but instead as a home where I could feel safe, alive, and free.

That experience transformed me, and it’s why I do this work today. Sexological bodywork is not medical, and that’s exactly its strength. It creates space for the kind of deep, whole-person healing that isn’t about fixing what’s broken—it’s about uncovering the brilliance and pleasure that have been waiting inside you all along.