We were at one of those parties — the kind you want to be at, the kind where you need to know the right people just to get invited. Beautiful people everywhere, looking for something to feel. I was sitting back on one of the big mattresses, relaxed, and the more people get to know me, the more they end up asking me about sex.
A beautiful woman came over and we started talking. About hedonism, about sexuality, about freedom. The conversation was fascinating. Half an hour in, she said something I’ve heard in different words more times than I can count.
“The guy I’m with is amazing. We’ve been together a year and a half. He brings everything — he’s the guy I always looked for. But there’s one thing that doesn’t work, and he already knows it, he’s been to therapy about it. He’s an engineer. Everything with him gets analyzed, everything lives in his head. We already talked about breaking up. He’s incredible. The sex is less.”
Different words. Different voices. But underneath, always the same story.
Two People, Not One
There’s something profoundly lonely about a sentence like that. Because it assumes the body is on one side, and the man is on the other. As if he’s become two different people. One trying. The other ruining everything.
I’d like to offer you another possibility. What if your body isn’t working against you? What if it’s simply doing exactly what it has learned to do?
How the Body Learns
Think about learning to drive. At first, every movement requires attention. When to shift gears. When to check the mirror. How much to turn the wheel. Then one day... you simply drive. Not because you became smarter. Because your nervous system learned. That’s how the body learns almost everything. Walking. Riding a bike. Playing an instrument. Speaking a language. Sex is no different. For better or worse.
If, for years, your brain learned that sex is a race to the finish... If it learned that the goal is to get there as quickly as possible... If every sexual experience revolved around performance, pressure, or fear... Why would your body behave differently next time? From your body’s perspective... it’s succeeding. It’s doing exactly what you taught it to do.
What Has Your Body Learned?
This changes the question completely. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with my body?” you begin asking, “What has my body learned?” Those are two completely different conversations.
The Body Is Not a Machine
We learn to treat the body like a machine — especially if you like the idea that we’re living in a simulation, where everything has a cause and an effect. Do A, B, and C for X amount of time, and that’s what you’ll get. It’s science. Eat 1,989 calories and you’ll lose 0.3 kilos a week. Push 15 kilos and you’ll gain 15% muscle mass every two weeks. You need 1.8 grams of protein per kilo of bodyweight... like someone wrote the manual for the body.
But sexual reality doesn’t work that way. You have to touch everywhere and try. You have to play every key that exists and hear what sound comes out. And even if a certain spot made a beautiful sound last time, that doesn’t mean it will make the same sound again. When it comes to the body, you want to write a new symphony every single time, using every instrument in the orchestra. There’s no results menu. That’s boring — and it’s the exact opposite of the freedom you’re actually looking for.
From Enemy to Friend
I think one of the biggest mistakes we make is treating the body like an enemy. The moment you go to war with your body... you stop listening to it. And the moment you stop listening... you stop learning.
I like to think of the body as a friend who doesn’t speak. It doesn’t explain. It doesn’t argue. It simply responds. Every response is information. Not a verdict.
Surrender, Don’t Force
Not overnight. Not by force. Sexuality is the one place where you’re supposed to do the opposite of what you’re used to — not analyze, not push, but feel. Love. Sense what’s happening around you, sense what’s happening inside you, and move gently with whatever you find. If you don’t feel it yet, give it time. Don’t force it. The harder you push, the further it moves away from you. What you need is the opposite: to surrender.
If you stay curious long enough, patterns begin to appear. You notice what creates tension. What creates calm. What pulls you into your head. What brings you back into the present.
The Moment It Clicks
And then it happens. I hear about it in a message, or in our next session. They show up smiling. “I understood,” they say. “I felt it.” In the middle of it, they stopped, they smiled, and the whole mystery was gone. They felt connected to their own body.
The most meaningful change doesn’t begin the day you last longer. It begins the day you stop being angry at your body. Because it’s almost impossible to learn from someone you’re constantly fighting.
In the next chapter, we’ll explore one of the strangest paradoxes of intimacy. The harder we try to control the body... the less control we seem to have.