The First Time I Chose Myself in Bed
The First Time I Chose Myself in Bed
Blog Article
I don’t remember the exact date.
But I remember the moment my body exhaled.
I had spent years believing that sex was something I gave—
A gift, a currency, a way to be wanted.
Saying yes felt easier than explaining why I didn’t want to.
Faking pleasure felt safer than risking disappointment.
Until one day, I didn’t perform.
I didn’t push through.
I didn’t leave myself to make someone else stay.
I chose me.
???? Before That Moment, My Body Wasn’t Really Mine
I had sex with people who were kind.
Respectful, even.
But I wasn’t fully there.
Not because they did something wrong,
But because I had been trained—quietly, consistently—to disconnect.
I smiled when I was numb.
I moaned when I felt nothing.
I agreed when my body whispered no.
And the saddest part?
I thought this was normal.
???? The Turning Point Wasn’t Dramatic—It Was Honest
It happened during a moment I would’ve once ignored.
Something felt off.
Too fast. Too shallow. Too out-of-body.
I paused.
Took a breath.
And said softly,
“Can we stop? I don’t feel connected.”
I expected rejection, awkwardness, shame.
But what I got was silence.
Stillness.
And for the first time, myself.
✨ Choosing Myself Didn’t Kill Intimacy—It Made Space for It
I didn’t lose anything by honoring my body.
I gained clarity. Power. Integrity.
That night, I didn’t climax.
But I left feeling whole.
Because I didn’t abandon myself to please someone else.
I stopped being an actress in someone else’s fantasy
And became a witness to my own truth.
???? The Myth We’re Sold Is That Sex Is About Performance
We’re told to be exciting, easy, wild, available.
We’re told that “good lovers” don’t change their minds.
We’re told that sex is about giving, not feeling.
But real intimacy isn’t measured in orgasms or positions.
It’s measured in presence.
In honesty.
In whether you get to stay with yourself the whole time.
❤️ Final Thought: You’re Allowed to Pause. To Shift. To Choose.
The first time I chose myself in bed wasn’t perfect.
It was tender, shaky, unfamiliar.
But it was the beginning of a new relationship—
Not with someone else,
But with me.
If you’ve never chosen yourself before,
Let this be your permission:
You don’t owe anyone your performance.
You owe yourself your presence.
And that will always be enough.
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