My Body Was Numb Before Tantra: A Love Story of Returning Home
I used to think I was in my body.
I smiled. I moaned. I even climaxed.
But inside… I was far away.
Touch felt confusing.
Pleasure felt like a performance.
And my yeses were often quiet no’s whispered behind a locked jaw.
I now see that I wasn’t broken.
I was bracing.
Disappearing.
Protecting something tender.
We live in a culture that teaches us to override, to rush, to seduce rather than feel, to say “yes” when our body is actually frozen, clenched, unsure.
And like so many, I learned to disconnect in order to survive. I could perform closeness while secretly holding my breath.
I could climax while staying numb. I could give my body without ever truly arriving in it. But beneath it all, something sacred waited.
It wasn’t one big moment of awakening that changed me. It was a hundred small ones.
Tears in a tantra massage when my belly finally softened. A gasp that surprised me in a moment of stillness.
The first time I truly felt the difference between surrender and collapse.
Tantra didn’t give me something new. It helped me remember.
That my body is wise.
That sensation is safe.
That even numbness carries a sacred message.
Tantra taught me how to speak the language of the body.
To listen instead of override.
To slow down when I want to run.
To breathe instead of brace.
To meet sensation as sacred.
To offer my “no“ as an act of love.
And still… I forget.
There are days I freeze.
I go quiet inside.
I drift away.
But the path is not about perfection.
It’s about remembering.
Returning.
Trusting.
Learning to love this body. In its numbness. In its fire. In its silence. In its sacred storm.
If your body still feels far away, I want you to know:
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are arriving.
And you will come home.
Maybe not in a single explosion of awakening, but in soft, breath-filled moments.
In gentle re-entries.
In whispers that become roars.
You will feel again.
And when you do, it won’t be for anyone else’s gaze. It will be for you.
A reclamation.
A resurrection.
A remembering of who you’ve always been beneath the numbness.
Welcome home, beloved. Reach out. Book a session. Let’s make this return sacred.
