Young smiling mixed race couple lying and holding hands together in bed in the morning.

Reconnecting With Pleasure After Sexual Trauma: A Mindful Approach

Sara Groth

LCPC, CST

Content Warning: discussions of sexual relationships and the impact of sexual trauma

From years of working with survivors of sexual violence in various settings, I’m unfortunately very familiar with common myths around sexual assault and trauma. One myth that I find particularly insidious is the idea that one is “broken” after experiencing sexual trauma, meaning that they will never be able to enjoy sexual relationships the same way again. This one is a tricky one because there are many survivors I work with who – whether consciously or not – internalize this one above all other myths. 

However, I can understand why this myth lingers in the minds of survivors and those who wish to support them. While there is some awareness of the mental health side of treating trauma – people go to support groups, seek out therapy, take medications, etc. – there is little talk about what heals us sexually. If we don’t know what helps, it makes sense to think nothing does, but as both a therapist specialized in working with sexual healing and a survivor who had to do it myself, I take pride in sharing what helps. Luckily enough, what helps us with sexual trauma isn’t too different from other forms of trauma and emotional distress, especially when we’re talking about mindfulness. 

What is mindfulness?

Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese monk, activist, and author often referred to as the “father of mindfulness”, defined mindfulness as “being aware of what is happening inside and around you in the present moment”. Many folks mistakenly believe that mindful meditation requires one to clear their mind, to think of nothing at all – in reality, mindfulness requires a highly engaged mind to tune into each of our senses and present experiences. 

Usually, I find it easiest to explain mindfulness to my clients by explaining what it isn’t. Most of our days we spend either living in the past or the future – What am I going to make tonight for dinner? Will my boss be upset with me in our meeting? Why didn’t my partner text me back last night? When you are worrying about the future or ruminating over the past, you are not being mindful. Mindfulness, as Hanh explained, is only concerned with the present moment. 

Any of my clients who have heard me discuss mindfulness also know that it is not an easy solution. It requires time and practice, starting small with focusing on just one or two breaths and working up to different ways we can be mindful throughout our days and weeks. Though it’s hard, the research frequently shows that mindfulness benefits our brain and body, especially for folks living with anxiety and depression.

Mindfulness & Sex

Along with being a helpful tool to promote mental wellness in general, research shows us that mindfulness practices pose many benefits for treating sexual distress and dysfunction, including those who have experienced sexual violence (Nixon, 2024; Stephenson & Kirth, 2017). Why is that? Well, it’s important to remember that in every human, the biggest sexual organ exists between your ears: your brain. Stephenson (2017) theorizes that mindfulness helps promote more satisfying sexual experiences by addressing common factors contributing to dysfunction such as negative beliefs about one’s own performance, inattentiveness or trouble focusing, and avoidance of sexual situations. Mindfulness gets us out of our judgments and back into our senses, which is then where we can find pleasure. 

This becomes all the more important when a person has experienced sexual violence. When we experience a trauma, it is common for our minds and bodies to disconnect in order to protect ourselves in the moment. The hard work afterwards is reintroducing ourselves to situations that in the past were unsafe. Mindfulness, once again, is focused on bringing awareness to the present moment, reminding yourself that you are no longer in danger. Through recognizing our present experience internally and externally, we can break down past associations between sexual contexts and danger and replace them with new experiences of safety and nonjudgment. 

How can I start practicing? 

  • Start with your breath. In mindfulness practices, our breath serves as an anchor to keep us connected with our bodies. One of the simplest ways to practice mindfulness is to take time to focus on your breathing - how the air feels traveling in through your nose, out through your mouth. You don’t have to change how you breathe, just take notice of what the natural rhythm of your breath is. Spend even just thirty seconds a day - perhaps right when you wake up or after you clock out of work - focusing on your breath to help train your mind to tune into the present moment.
  • Body scans. Body scans are a wonderful mindfulness technique to get back into all of your body. Start off by finding a comfortable spot either sitting or laying down. You can begin with either the very top of your head or the tips of your toes – wherever you start, you will shift your focus entirely to the part of your body. What sensations do you notice? Is there any tension? Spend a few deep breaths on each part of your body before moving to the next place, gradually working your way to tune in to each part. If you find it difficult to do this alone, it can be helpful to use a guided recording to practice body scans or any other type of mindfulness technique. 
  • Eat mindfully. Eating, much like sex, can be incredibly pleasurable for us, but more often than not we don’t allow ourselves to focus fully on the food (nor the sex!). Try to avoid multi-tasking when you eat – allow yourself to focus fully on the food in front of you and take a moment to recognize how each of your senses is involved with the meal. There’s no wrong food to practice mindful eating with – Dr. Lori Brotto, mindful sex expert, famously used raisins to practice mindfulness in her groups for women with low desire.
Women's hands holding plate with pears, grapes, persimmon and pomegranate fruits.
  • Bring it to the bedroom. Once you get some practice with mindfulness in different settings, start practicing mindfulness with sexual contexts. This could be while masturbating or with a partner. You may choose to start with light activities – a back or hand massage – before slowly moving to more sexual contexts. Don’t rush yourself – take things as slowly as you may need to and then think again about what each of your senses are experiencing. If you find that hard to do, you can always focus on just three key features of touch from yourself or another person: temperature (Does the touch feel cold or warm?), pressure (Is the touch hard or soft?), and texture (Does this feel smooth or rough?)

It’s critical in all of this to remember that our brains are muscles and mindfulness is a form of exercise. The same way you wouldn’t (or at least, shouldn’t) be mad at your arm for not instantly being able to lift up hundreds of pounds after a few bicep curls, you need to understand the mindfulness – be it in sexual experiences or any other part of our lives – is a practice. It’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally, and the only way you can truly benefit from it is if you stick with practicing. In a similar vein, healing from sexual trauma is also a process, so it’s okay if pleasure and comfort in sex take time to come back to you. 

Resources:

  • Better Sex Through Mindfulness: How Women Can Cultivate Desire by Lori Brotto
  • Healing Sex: A Mind-Body Approach to Healing Sexual Trauma by Staci Haines
  • Nixon, M. A. (2024). Exploring women's experiences of healing from sexual trauma through engagement in mind–body practices: A systematic review. Counselling and Psychotherapy Research, 24(3), 884-896.
  • Stephenson, K. R. (2017). Mindfulness-based therapies for sexual dysfunction: A review of potential theory-based mechanisms of change. Mindfulness, 8, 527-543.
  • Stephenson, K. R., & Kerth, J. (2017). Effects of mindfulness-based therapies for female sexual dysfunction: A meta-analytic review. The Journal of Sex Research, 54(7), 832-849.