When pleasure comes home

There was a time where it felt like there were two places inside of me.

One where things were safe.

Where there was joy.

Creativity.

Laughter.

Connection.

Words.

And then there was this other place.

Out there.

Somewhere external.

Where sex was.

Where I thought I had to go towards it.

Learn how to be sexy. Act sexy.

Feel sexy in a way that made sense to someone else.

I thought that was how it worked.

But something shifted.

Slowly, I started inviting her—sexuality, sensuality—into the space that already felt safe.

What if she didn't need to be separate?

What if she could play?

Be silly?

Laugh with her mouth open?

Feel everything?

Feel nothing sometimes?

That’s what I heard someone share last weekend.

And what I saw.

It was the fourth bonus weekend of the Liberation Journey.

Same group. New layers.

The experience really got me by the balls with its impact.

They weren’t trying to "accept" sexuality anymore.

Sex was in the room.

And so was laughter.

And slowness.

And weird jokes.

And sacred silence.

Sex-positive spaces... the name still implies that there is also a part of the world that judges it as negative.

What I mean with sex-positive is:

spaces where sexuality isn’t everything—but where it’s allowed to be something.

Beautiful, messy, sacred, awkward, hilarious, sensual, emotional, powerful.

Just like the rest of us.

Often, in facilitating these spaces, there is a careful listening

to the resurfacing of shame, fear or old stories.

It's a tender subject.

That often needs de-conditioning, re-learning, re-claiming.

This weekend, after traveling together for many months,

felt profoundly different.

Like a deep exhale.

Like the group had dropped into something new.

From 'let's try to get comfortable with this thing'

to'this is where we are'.

Really, room to breathe in all of it.

To create.

To laugh.

To not have to explain or justify anything.

Because yeah, I still love creating spaces that help people unlearn the crap they’ve been taught about sex.

But what’s been quietly bubbling for me this weekend is…what becomes possible after that?

And just as I was sitting with all of that—

the beauty, the playfulness, the quiet ease—

another layer unfolded.

We had just done a self-love and self-pleasure ritual as a group.

One of those moments where everyone is deep in their own world.

No real-time feedback. No facial cues.

Just presence. Stillness. Breathing.

And yeah—I'll be honest. As a facilitator, I can get insecure in these moments.

I have to trust what I am picking up without explicit confirmations.

So when we came back together afterwards,

and people looked kind of unreadable—

still in their process, maybe tired, probably hungry—

I noticed this part of me wondering:

Did it land? Was it too much? Was it meaningful for anyone?

I didn’t get many words in that moment. But a few hours later,

someone shared something that stayed with me.

With her permission:

She told us about a childhood memory.

She was innocently exploring, playing in the room with friends, having fun with her body— until an adult intervened.

Shamed her.

Took her by the arm.

And something closed.

A layer of shame fell in.

She said that during the ritual, something shifted back.

Not with anger, not with bitterness.

But with this soft, smiling fuck you.

Like—

"See me now.

This is mine.

My pleasure is innocent.

My body is beautiful.

And I’m home here again."

I was sitting there, crying.

Because yeah... It touched me deeply. Not just because it was powerful in itself— but because it’s so familiar. It’s a story I’ve heard in different versions so many times in my practice.

Even if the ritual was just for her (well... and everyone else with a similar story)—it was worth it. That moment alone made the whole thing matter.

Later I heard from others that it had landed for them too.

This felt like a testimony to this inner culture this group built together.

The care, the established safety.

The weeks and months of layering trust.

So yes, I’ll probably keep having these moments.

Staring at unreadable faces and wondering if I messed it all up.

But hey… maybe that’s just part of the gig.

With a soft smile,

Lore

Ps. Yes, more Liberation Journeys are on the calendar, both in Belgium as in Sweden. In case your body is whispering a yes.

#WhenPleasureComesHome