Escaping The Pleasureless Purgatory: Deciding to Reclaim Your Sexual Self After Sexual Assault by Jaimie Keillor, RCC
Trigger warning- SA*
If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in any of the words, please know you’re not alone. I see you. I believe you.
For survivors of sexual trauma, conversations about sex can touch some of our deepest vulnerabilities. These talks aren’t just about preferences or techniques—they’re about our bodies, our boundaries, our desires, and the hope that we’ll be wanted and accepted just as we are. It’s natural to feel exposed or even anxious when opening up about these topics, especially when past experiences have made trust and safety feel uncertain. Many of us grew up in environments where sex was rarely discussed, or only spoken about in whispers, which can add another layer of shame or discomfort when we try to express our needs. This can leave our search for pleasure feeling especially raw and complicated after trauma.
What’s so often overlooked is that healing from sexual assault—especially when it comes to reclaiming our sexuality—is rarely talked about openly in our culture. Society tends to erase or ignore this part of the recovery journey, as if our capacity for pleasure or connection is lost forever after assault. This silence can leave us feeling invisible, as though the part of us that once hoped for intimacy or joy no longer exists. We may find ourselves in a kind of pleasureless purgatory—caught between the pain of what happened and the longing for something more, but unsure how to move forward.
I share this blog in hopes of reminding you that pleasure is possible. I write for those who are trying to make sense of their sexuality, for those whose sexual selves feel defined by trauma and want to break free, and for anyone who longs to feel pleasure again but doesn’t know where to start. You are not alone, and your journey toward healing and joy is both valid and possible.
Awareness of the problem
While each of our stories is unique, many survivors share similar challenges as we navigate sex after assault. For some, the hardest part is wondering if your sexual struggles are “valid enough” to acknowledge I want to gently remind you that they absolutely are. You deserve support and understanding, just as you are. For others, it’s determining who feels safe enough to be intimate with. Sometimes, it’s trying to understand why you avoid things during sex, or why a sexual behaviour suddenly feels out of control. Perhaps your struggle is feeling intimacy with your partner, or you suddenly can't stand to be touched. Whatever your experience, it can be incredibly isolating and confusing. As tough and tangled as it can feel, getting to know how trauma has shaped your relationship with sex is a big part of reclaiming pleasure for yourself. When you approach these struggles with compassion, and empathy—rather than judgment—you give yourself the chance to heal in the way that YOU need. It allows you to make specific changes that feel right for you. It’s kind of like finding your place on a map– if you don’t know where you are, it’s hard to figure out how to get where you want to go.
Shifting from Sex Negative to Sex Positive View
What’s so often overlooked in this healing is how sexual trauma can fundamentally reshape the way we view sexuality, sensuality, and desire. The thought of wanting pleasure, or feeling desire or arousal again, can often seem taboo—or even sinful, dangerous, or even impossible. One of the most common misunderstandings about sexual trauma is the idea that it leaves us permanently broken, especially when it comes to our sexuality. Some survivors worry they’ll never be able to enjoy sex again the way they did before the trauma. For others, whose first sexual experience was an assault, it can feel like that part of themselves was never really there to begin with. It can be particularly challenging to change these beliefs, especially because the topic of pleasure is often erased from discussions about healing—as if it’s something survivors aren’t entitled to or shouldn’t pursue. Sadly, this silence only reinforces the belief that pleasure and intimacy are out of reach for survivors. From both my own experience and from working with others, I truly believe that reclaiming pleasure is possible. In fact, it’s a vital part of the healing journey. Everyone deserves a life that includes pleasure, and yes, it is absolutely within reach.
It’s very common for survivors to hold negative associations with sex. After trauma, sex and intimacy can start to feel dangerous, transactional, or like something that’s done to you, rather than shared with you. Sometimes, sex may even seem secretive or shameful—feelings that echo the experience of sexual assault, not healthy consensual sex.
It’s important to notice how we think about sex and where those beliefs come from. Sometimes, these sex-negative beliefs aren’t only from personal experiences—they can also come from the messages we receive from society or sexual health education that often focus on “protecting” people from harm, framing sex as something risky or scary, rather than teaching us about pleasure, connection, and consent.
Still, for survivors, sexual assault can play a powerful role in reinforcing these negative beliefs, making it even harder to feel safe or positive about sex. Recognizing these influences is a key step toward healing and opening up to new, healthier ways of experiencing intimacy.
Begin to gently shift your perspective by reflecting on how you currently view sex and your sexual self. As you reflect on these questions, you might notice some difficult emotions or memories coming up. That’s a completely normal part of this process
What expectations do I place on sex and on myself as a sexual person?
How does sex feel for me in the moment—physically, emotionally, and mentally?
Do I choose to have sex? Or does it feel like the choice to have sex is not my own?
What do I communicate—about myself, my needs, or my boundaries—when I have sex?
Do I notice any feelings (or numbness) during sex? What are those feelings?
In what ways have my past sexual experiences shaped my current beliefs and assumptions about sex?
What messages did I receive about sex and sexuality while growing up, and how might those messages still influence me today?
Shifting away from a sex positive view can bring up unwanted emotions, painful memories, or even unexpected reactions. Even the realization of how much the abuse took away from your sexual self may come out. Just know, this is common and this is absolutely part of the healing journey. Acknowledging the impact, and the sadness, and anger and frustration is essential. Sit with it, nurture it, and treat that painful emotion with compassion, and kindness. Over time, its hold on your sexuality may lessen, and you can gradually reclaim more of your own experience—at your own pace.
A more accurate definition of sexual health
The United Nations defines sexual health as “a state of physical, emotional, mental, and social well-being in relation to sexuality; it is not merely the absence of disease, dysfunction, or infirmity”. Sexual health is so much more than just physical acts—it encompasses open communication, self-acceptance, and the freedom to explore desires without fear, shame, or coercion. Ultimately, healthy sexuality is about feeling empowered to make choices that are right for you, honoring your boundaries, and building intimacy that feels nourishing and affirming.
For those of us healing from sexual assault, redefining sexual health in this way opens the door to healing that honors your whole self: body, mind, and spirit. Embracing a broader definition—one that sees sexual health as a state of overall well-being rather than simply the absence of harm—can create space for self-acceptance, healing, and personal boundaries. This perspective gives you permission to move at your own pace, to explore what feels safe and comfortable, and to put your own needs and desires first. Recognizing that sexual health includes emotional and mental well-being can help shift your self-view, making room for new possibilities in how you relate to yourself and others.
Understanding what pleasure means for you
Sexual pleasure is about the feelings of enjoyment and satisfaction that arise when you explore what feels good for you—whether you’re alone or with someone else. This pleasure can take many forms: a physical sensation, a rush of excitement in your mind, or a simple daydream that lifts your mood. It might come from touching yourself, sharing intimate moments with a partner, or even letting your thoughts and fantasies roam free. For others, it might not involve touch at all. There’s no single “right” way to experience sexual pleasure; it’s unique to each person, and what matters most is discovering what feels good and true for you.
If you’d like to get to know your own pleasure a little better, here are some gentle questions you might explore:
What kinds of things spark my sexual excitement or make me feel desired?
Are there particular touches, caresses, or physical interactions that feel especially pleasurable to me?
What kinds of emotional connections or interactions make me feel desired and excited?
Do certain scents, sounds, or even music enhance my sexual experience?
Are there specific visuals—images, scenes, or even types of lighting—that I find arousing?
What kinds of settings or environments help me feel most comfortable and turned on?
Which sexual activities do I enjoy the most?
Are there fantasies or daydreams that I find exciting or intriguing?
As you get to know what feels good for you, it can also be helpful to reflect on why you want to reconnect with your sexual self in the first place.
Reclaiming Autonomy
Understanding why we want to reconnect with our sexual selves is crucial—it needs to be for ourselves. While it’s natural to want to heal for those we care about, the journey tends to be most meaningful when it’s motivated by your own needs and desires. Sometimes, focusing solely on others can unintentionally echo old patterns of our abuse, so centering your own well-being is important. Asking yourself why you want to make this shift is part of the first step.
Reclaiming your sexuality is a deeply personal journey. Meaning, you get to decide when the time is right, and for what reasons. Above all, you get to decide which aspects of your sexuality you want to explore or change, focusing on what feels right and enjoyable for you. Shifting to a self pleasure mindset helps us take back control of our bodies, learn to listen to ourselves, and advocate for our own needs. Now, that is not to say you become ignorant of your partner(s) boundaries and bodily autonomy, but more so from a framework that what you want and what you feel comfortable with, is a priority.
At its core, pleasure begins when we feel safe and respected—and that starts with listening to ourselves. Reconnecting with your sexuality can help you feel more empowered. Reclaiming your sexual self begins when you choose to heal for yourself: your own goals, on your own time, for your own pleasure.
Understanding your boundaries
Boundaries are the standards we set to feel comfortable and, in many cases, safe. These boundaries might be shaped by your experiences, values, or even your body’s immediate reactions to certain situations. Paying attention to both your thoughts and your body’s signals can help you set boundaries that truly serve you.
Understanding both your turn offs and your triggers is crucial for establishing healthy sexual boundaries. For some survivors, these two concepts—turn offs and triggers—can sometimes feel similar at first, but they’re actually quite different. Exploring both—what you don’t like, and what feels unsafe—can empower you to create a safer and more fulfilling sexual experience for yourself.
Turn offs are things that simply don’t feel good, don’t excite you, or might make you uncomfortable or disinterested during sexual activity. These could include certain behaviors, words, types of touch, or even specific environments that make you uninterested in sex. They aren't distressing, they just don't “do it for you”. Knowing your turn offs not only supports boundary formation, but also empowers you to foster sexual situations that are enjoyable- to you.
Triggers on the other hand, especially in the context of trauma recovery, are more specific. They are cues—such as a smell, sound, phrase, or type of touch—that bring up distressing memories or emotions from past experiences. Triggers can cause you to feel overwhelmed, anxious, or disconnected from the present moment.
While triggers are often tied to past trauma and can cause intense emotional responses, turn offs are more about personal preferences and boundaries. By acknowledging the parts of our sexuality where we have choice—like setting boundaries, knowing what we don’t like, or identifying what we want to work through—we can begin to reclaim a sense of agency and comfort with our own pleasure, at our own pace.
Remember, it’s normal for these to change over time, and it’s always okay to seek support as you navigate them.
Learning sexual safety
Taking the time to understand what makes you feel safe during sex is important, and it doesn’t mean you’re being unreasonable or demanding. This is especially true for survivors of sexual trauma, who may need extra support and clarity to feel secure in intimate situations. Healing from past experiences often requires relearning how to recognize and honor your boundaries, and that process deserves patience and compassion.
To help survivors, sex therapist Wendy Maltz developed the CERTS model, which outlines five essential foundations for sexual safety: Consent, Equality, Respect, Trust, and Safety. These principles offer a helpful guide for building nourishing and mutually satisfying sexual experiences.
Consent is about having the freedom and comfort to choose whether or not to engage in any sexual activity, knowing you can pause or stop at any time and that your wishes will always be honored. It’s about more than just saying “yes” or “no.” It’s about feeling empowered to make choices at every step, without fear of pressure or repercussions. This includes the freedom to change your mind at any point, to ask for things to slow down, or to stop altogether. For some survivors, it might also mean discussing boundaries or triggers ahead of time, so both partners are aware of what feels safe and what doesn’t. Consent is ongoing, and it’s okay for it to look different day by day.
Equality ensures that both partners share an equal sense of power, with neither person dominating or pressuring the other—each voice matters equally. That means no one’s needs or desires outweigh the other’s, and decisions are made together. Survivors may need extra reassurance that their comfort and preferences matter just as much as their partner’s, and that they won’t be pressured or manipulated.
Respect means valuing both yourself and your partner, treating one another with kindness and dignity. This might mean a partner who listens without judgment, is patient with the pace of intimacy, and never minimizes or dismisses their experiences. Respect also means honoring your own well-being and healing, even if that means saying ‘not yet’ or ‘not at all’ to certain experiences.
Trust allows for openness and vulnerability, with the assurance that your feelings and boundaries will be met with care and understanding. It takes time and consistency. It means knowing your partner will listen, honor your boundaries, and never use your vulnerability against you. Trust also involves being able to communicate openly about fears, triggers, or needs without worrying about being judged or rejected.
Safety is about feeling secure and at ease, able to express your needs and boundaries without fear of harm—whether emotional, physical, or otherwise. You might find it helpful to create rituals or agreements with your partner—like checking in often, having a ‘pause’ word, or making a plan for aftercare together. Safety also means knowing that if something feels wrong or overwhelming, you can stop and your partner will support you without question.
Establishing these foundations takes time, honest communication, and a willingness to nurture understanding with your partner. While no relationship is perfect, embracing the CERTS model can foster a sense of security and reduce the risk of negative experiences. By honoring these principles, you lay the groundwork for deeper, more positive, and truly satisfying connections.
Along with creating safety in your relationships, it’s just as important to find ways to feel safe within your own body.
Learning safety within your body
After an assault, it’s completely normal to feel numb or disconnected from the signals your body sends during intimate moments. Sometimes, it can feel easier to ignore these warning signs—to just go along with sex rather than pause or say no. For others, triggers can surface so quickly and unexpectedly that it feels impossible to control them.
Both of these responses are valid and understandable. You’re doing your best to cope in a difficult situation. However, it’s important to remember that consistently avoiding or ignoring these signals can distance us from the parts of ourselves we’re working so hard to reclaim. By gently tuning in and honoring what our bodies are telling us, we can begin to rebuild trust with ourselves and move toward healing.
If you notice uncomfortable feelings or sensations, you might try getting curious about them, rather than pushing them away. When you notice an uncomfortable thought or sensation in your body, try to listen with kindness. Ask yourself what your body might be trying to communicate, and consider what you need in that moment to feel safe and cared for.
It’s absolutely okay to slow things down during intimate moments to give yourself time to process and move through what you’re feeling. Maybe you’ll need a gentle reminder that you’re in a safe space, or reassurance from a supportive partner. Perhaps taking a few deep breaths will help you reconnect with your body and the present moment. Whatever you need to feel grounded and secure, honor that need.
It’s normal to worry that pausing might feel awkward or disrupt the mood, but your comfort and sense of safety come first. If or when you’re able to take a moment for yourself to reconnect, know that you absolutely deserve that space. Learning to trust and honor these cues is a gentle step toward reconnecting with your body and reclaiming safety in your pleasure.
As you continue your journey, I leave you with this note...
Conversations matter. Our stories matter. When we begin to share our experiences, we break the isolation of the pleasureless purgatory that trauma traps us in. By disrupting the silence around the erasure of pleasure, we open ourselves to the truth that pleasure is not only possible after trauma, but is also essential to healing and healthy sexuality.
Escaping that purgatory is a deeply personal process. Your journey is uniquely your own, and you can take each step only when you feel ready. Go slowly, and be gentle with yourself as you move through this process. Pay attention to how you feel, and honor your needs along the way.
And to those of you wondering if it’s possible to find pleasure again—the answer is yes. You can, and you absolutely deserve it.
*** If you find yourself needing extra support, consider reaching out to a therapist in your area who is informed in sex-positive healing.