“Arousal” I hear the word and instantly I have parts of me blaring inside. These parts bounce around my mind, confused, looking for clues in the crevices of my brain, ruffling through old memories of things that were logged as turn ons at some point. It’s almost like that meme of the guy with the strings trying to triangulate a theory or suspect — but like multiplied by ten.
These parts, I can now recognize, are protector parts. They grasp frantically at trying to have the “key” to arousal. When they take over, as they sometimes do, I just chose not to try at arousal. Because in the past, when I haven’t found something that turns me on, more vulnerable parts say “there’s something wrong with me, I’m the only one who doesn’t know what they like” or — and this one hits big, “I’m just like the stereotype about women: I don’t know what I want”.
When I do decide to try out arousal anyways, a part shows up that shames me for wanting — or in the past needing — someone else to be present, because I can avoid myself if there’s someone else’s needs to be in tune with and take care of. As always, hindsight is 20/20 and I can understand now that, in the short term, always having someone else worked to avoid my own needs. But it fueled a ton of resentment and anger in the long run. Often times all this noise is too much to navigate and I’ve found having something like a guided vulva massage is helpful — it gives my brain something to do while my body warms up.
One of my favorite ways to approach arousal is reading erotica, having my thoughts send pulses and throbs to my genitals while my imagination paints every scenario perfectly — with the right tones of voice and appearances — is a true chefs kiss. Watching a porn clip and allowing my mind to create the scenario of how these people know each other, or what they’re experiencing can be really fun also. These external tools can be really nice crutches as I ease into arousal.
But sometimes they only trigger my scarcity parts to be louder. There are times when I google a go-to taboo, and when I arrive, I find that none of it turns me on, its the same old, same old feeling, and my arousal feels bored. In those moments I can hear the scared parts whispering “what if nothing turns you on anymore”, “you’ve run out of sexy material, its all used up”, “this is it, you don’t know what you want and therefore you cant ask for it, which means no pleasure”. The speed at which my mind can get to this place is lightning quick. So I take deep breaths and try to just be, and keep massaging.
Arousal for me is much like a meditation. I often find my mind wandering and I have to take a deep breath and come back to the body. I focus on what I’m feeling — what my body is doing and experiencing. Arousal is work for me.
As my body responds with swelling and sensations, being present with the pleasure gets easier. My body begins to take over and I notice a pulsing sensation that radiates at my vulva. I envision it as warm and red, spreading slowly through my body. My body matches energetic vision as I notice my labia feel more puffy, my clitoris more engorged and able to endure a bit more pressure as I massage. I notice that before the strokes I was giving my body didn’t have much intensity — but now they pull at my attention, I notice more curiosity, more playfulness and less pressure.
Continuing the masturbation meditation, I can feel the intensity building, noticing the orgasm sensations showing up as my mind plays in fantasy land. Before working on my self sexuality I often reached this point and felt anxious and worried. But now with practice I notice that as my orgasm nears I am surrounded now with reassuring mantras I have repeated kindly to myself over time. “My orgasm never goes away”, “it’s always right here for me and I’m worth the time it takes to get there”.
After the cresting waves of orgasm wash over me I fight the urge to get up and get going and get back to life. Instead I sit and relish in how hot the fantasies I came up with were, the naughty sibling context I added to the porn I might have viewed, the strange remembering that everything external is usually ranked as “okay” but what my mind and body create together, that’s the real magic. I marinate in gratitude for what I made time for, what I gave myself permission to feel.
I’ve noticed over time that this lingering arousal makes it easier to experience my body. I take my vibrator and move it through all my chakras starting at my root chakra pulling orgasmic vibrance through each energy point all the way to my crown chakra and back down — a technique I learned from Betty. Moving through my day, each task performed in the hours pro-ceding come with an awareness that my clitoris is still swollen, my vulva still puffy. I’ve begun to interpret this residual arousal as an invitation from my body to slow down, soften, and let pleasure flow through me.
Arousal is work for me, it takes effort and more importantly it takes courage, but I’ve found that what feels so scary at first, becomes an extraordinary experience that connects me deeper to myself.