I know the title probably caught your attention, and honestly, good. Because I think we need to talk about this more openly. Last night, I had sex with myself. Not the "quickly take care of it before bed" kind. I mean the slow, intentional, candle-lit, music-playing, full-body kind. A real experience. A real practice. And it was amazing.
I started calling it "having sex with myself" instead of masturbation because the language shift matters. Masturbation often gets treated as something quick and functional — something you do when you don't have a partner available, or something you rush through out of physical need. But when I reframe it as having sex with myself, it completely changes the experience. It becomes something I'm choosing to do for myself, not just to myself.
What Is a Pleasure Practice?
A pleasure practice is exactly what it sounds like: a regular, intentional practice of giving yourself pleasure. But it goes beyond the physical. It's about creating space in your life to connect with your body, to explore what feels good, to slow down, and to treat yourself as worthy of the same care and attention you'd give a partner.
For me, a pleasure practice looks like setting aside time when I won't be interrupted. It means putting my phone in another room. Sometimes it involves a bath first, or putting on music that makes me feel sensual. It means touching my whole body — not just the obvious places — and paying attention to what I notice. What feels electric? What feels soothing? What do I want more of?
Why We Need to Reclaim Solo Pleasure
So many of us grew up with messages that solo pleasure was something shameful, something to hide, or something that "didn't really count." Those messages did real damage. They disconnected us from our own bodies and taught us that pleasure was only valid when it came from someone else.
But here's what I've learned: the relationship you have with your own body is the most important sexual relationship you'll ever have. If you don't know what you like, if you haven't explored your own responses, if you feel uncomfortable touching yourself — that's going to show up in every partnered experience you have. You can't guide someone to a destination you've never visited yourself.
Reclaiming solo pleasure means letting go of the idea that it's lesser than partnered sex. It's not a consolation prize. It's a practice that deepens your self-awareness, your confidence, and your capacity for pleasure in every area of your life.
How to Start Your Own Practice
If this is new to you, or if you've always treated self-pleasure as something quick and functional, here are some ways to start shifting that:
- Set the scene — dim the lights, play music, light a candle. Create an environment that signals to your nervous system that this is special.
- Start with your whole body — begin with your arms, your neck, your stomach. Touch yourself the way you'd want a lover to touch you.
- Breathe deeply — conscious breathing moves energy through your body and amplifies sensation. Slow, deep breaths can completely change the experience.
- Let go of the goal — this isn't about reaching orgasm as quickly as possible. It's about being present with yourself and seeing what happens.
- Experiment — try different pressures, different rhythms, different positions. Use your hands, use toys, use whatever feels right. There are no rules.
The Emotional Side of Self-Pleasure
Something I wasn't expecting when I started taking my pleasure practice more seriously was the emotional response. Sometimes, in the middle of a session, I'd feel a wave of sadness, or tenderness, or gratitude. And that surprised me at first, but it makes complete sense. Our bodies hold emotions. When we slow down enough to really be present with ourselves, those emotions have space to surface.
That's not a sign that something is wrong. It's a sign that you're actually connected to yourself. And learning to hold space for whatever comes up — pleasure, emotion, vulnerability, joy — is part of what makes this a practice rather than just an activity.
This Is for Everyone
I want to be clear that this isn't gendered. People of all genders benefit from having a solo pleasure practice. And you don't need to be single to do this. Some of the most powerful work happens when you're in a relationship, because understanding your own pleasure more deeply gives you so much more to bring to your shared intimacy.
If you want to hear more about my personal experience with this — including what I actually do during a pleasure practice session — I shared everything in the video. It's an honest, open conversation, and I think you'll get a lot out of it.
