We grow up absorbing a lot of messages about desire.
Some are loud and obvious: “That’s inappropriate.” “Good girls don’t do that.” “Real men shouldn’t want this.”
Others are quieter, more subtle. A raised eyebrow. A pause. A silence where there could have been understanding.
Over time, we learn to carry our desires with caution. Sometimes even with shame.
Especially when those desires live outside the mainstream.
For many of us, there comes a moment when the craving is undeniable. A play session that left us floating, lit up, fully alive—and then suddenly, unexpectedly, ashamed. Not because anything went wrong. But because it felt too good.
Too much. Too revealing. Too close to some forbidden edge we were taught to avoid.
And so we start asking the wrong question:
“Why do I want this? What’s wrong with me?”
But what if we asked something else?
“What if wanting it isn’t the problem?”
What if the very thing you crave is not a sign of brokenness, but a thread worth following? What if it’s an invitation into a more honest, embodied, vibrant version of you?
This doesn’t mean every desire needs to be acted on. And it certainly doesn’t mean we abandon reflection, boundaries, or care.
But it does mean we stop framing our cravings as problems to be solved.
Because when we meet our desires with curiosity instead of judgment, something powerful happens:
- We get to choose what feels right, instead of reacting out of fear.
- We stop outsourcing our self-worth to someone else’s moral checklist.
- We begin to trust the parts of us that still feel alive.
Desire is not the enemy. Silence is.
So if you’ve ever left an experience both turned on and twisted up inside—if you’ve ever wondered whether you went too far just because it lit you up—you’re not alone.
There is nothing wrong with you.
