You ever open an old junk drawer and realize there’s a whole world in there you forgot existed? A tangle of chargers for phones you don’t own anymore, three pairs of scissors, and a mysterious key you’re scared to throw away. That’s what unpacking repressed sexuality feels like—except instead of electronics and craft supplies, it’s tangled-up desires, outdated shame, and parts of yourself you didn’t even know you’d shoved in the back.Most of us weren’t exactly raised in environments that said, “Hey, your sexuality is a totally normal, evolving part of who you are—explore away!” Nope. Many of us got a crash course in pretending it didn’t exist, or that it only existed in one “acceptable” shape. So it sat there—silent, dusty, waiting for the day you’d be ready to crack it open.
Today, we’re talking about what happens when you finally do. The awkwardness, the curiosity, the grief, and yes—the joy of reclaiming a part of yourself you might’ve been told to hide.
Join us on the O'Neil Counseling app here: https://www.oneilcounseling.com/app-landing-page
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
You have to open an old junk drawer and realize there's a
whole world in there you forgot existed.
A tangle of chargers for phones you don't own anymore, 3 pairs
of scissors and a mysterious keyyou're scared to throw away.
That's what unpacking repressed sexuality feels like.
(00:25):
Except instead of electronics and craft supplies, it's tangled
up desires, outdated shame, and parts of yourself you didn't
even know you'd shoved in the back.
Most of us weren't exactly raised in environments that
(00:46):
said, hey, your sexuality is a totally normal, evolving part of
who you are. Explore away.
Nope. Many of us got a crash course in
pretending it didn't exist, or that it only existed in one
acceptable shape. So it sat there, silent, dusty,
(01:13):
waiting for the day you'd be ready to crack it open.
Today we're talking about what happens when you finally do.
The awkwardness, the curiosity, the grief, and yes, the joy of
reclaiming a part of yourself you might have been told to
(01:36):
hide. Let's get into it.
Duality isn't just about being in a dry spell or going months
without swiping right. It's way more insidious than
that. It's when your sexual thoughts,
(01:59):
desires, or even the core of whoyou are get shoved so deep into
the basement of your psyche thaton the rare occasions they creep
back up, you barely recognize them as your own.
They feel alien, like they snuckin from someone else's
imagination, which only adds to the confusion.
(02:23):
And the kicker? That kind of deep freeze almost
never happens by accident. Most of the time, repression is
a survival skill you built without even realizing it.
Maybe you grew up in a house, a church, or a culture where your
sexual self wasn't just discouraged, but actively
(02:44):
branded as wrong, dangerous, or dirty.
In those spaces, hiding who you were wasn't just a suggestion,
it was a requirement. So you learned to tuck those
parts of yourself away, not because you didn't have them,
but because keeping them visiblecame with real risks.
(03:07):
Repression became armor, a way to dodge judgment, avoid
punishment, and protect yourselffrom being cast out or
ridiculed. And at first, that armor works.
It keeps you safe, keeps you fitting in, keeps you from
becoming a target. But here's the problem with
(03:29):
armor. It's heavy, it's rigid, and it
doesn't let anything in or out. Over time, what once felt like
protection morphs into a cage. The very thing that shielded you
from harm starts cutting you offfrom your own aliveness.
(03:54):
The longer you wear it, the easier it is to forget what's
underneath. You stop realizing there's a
vibrant, curious, desirous part of you waiting to breathe.
Instead, you get used to the numbness, the disconnection, the
quiet sense that something is missing, but you can't quite put
(04:15):
your finger on what. That's the cruelest part of
repression. It convinces you the absence is
natural, when really it's a piece of yourself you've been
taught to bury. Shame can make you shrink from
your own body like it's a house you don't feel welcome in,
(04:36):
tiptoeing around rooms you should be free to live in,
flinching at your own reflectionand treating your wants like
intruders that need to be silenced or exterminated.
It seeps into the way you dress,the way you touch yourself or
don't, the way you avoid being fully seen.
(04:57):
Shame whispers that your body issuspect, your desires are dirty
and your needs are a burden, andeventually you start believing
it. Fear twists the knife even
further. It turns curiosity, the most
natural human impulse, into a red flag.
(05:22):
Instead of leaning in, fear whispers that exploring will
only end in rejection, humiliation, or danger.
It tells you that questions are risky and that wanting more is
an invitation for things to go horribly wrong.
Fear convinces you that staying small is safer than stepping
(05:43):
into the unknown, even if staying small starves you in the
process. Then there's trauma, which
doesn't just leave a memory, it imprints itself directly onto
your nervous system. Trauma teaches your body that
being sexual isn't safe. The pleasure is always the
(06:06):
prelude to pain. The vulnerability will only be
punished. Your body remembers even when
your mind wants to forget. So you learn to lock the doors,
bolt the windows, and throw awaythe keys, because any form of
openness feels like courting danger.
(06:29):
And woven through it all is cultural conditioning, which is
so pervasive you often don't even notice it's there.
It's the wallpaper of your life,the background noise you've been
hearing since birth. It shows up in sitcoms that mock
fat bodies, queer crushes, or aging women as punch lines.
(06:54):
It's in classrooms where sex Ed was more about disease and
abstinence than about pleasure and consent.
It's in the subtle rules of goodpeople don't talk about that, or
real men don't do this, or nice girls don't want that.
It's the constant low grade hum reminding you what's normal,
(07:15):
what's acceptable, and what's possible, all before you've ever
had a chance to decide for yourself.
And by the time you're old enough to question it, the hum
is so familiar that science silence feels foreign and
anything outside the script feels wrong.
(07:37):
Over time, all those forces, shame, fear, trauma, Cultural
rules can train you to treat your own sexuality like that
nightmare roommate you'll do anything to avoid.
You know the type, the one who leaves passive aggressive notes
on the fridge and somehow alwaysmanages to be in the kitchen
(08:00):
when you need a glass of water. So you keep your interactions to
the bare minimum. You tiptoe around the shared
spaces, keep your head down and pretend they're not really
there, even though you know damnwell they are.
You don't look at them directly,you don't bring them into
important conversations, and youdefinitely don't let them
(08:23):
anywhere near the things that matter most in your life.
And here's the tricky part. For a while, that avoidance can
masquerade as peace. No awkward confrontations, no
shame spirals, no risk of being judged or rejected.
You convince yourself the silence is working, that not
(08:46):
talking about it, not acknowledging it, is keeping you
safe. But silence is never neutral.
It's like living with someone who never pays rent but still
controls the thermostat. You think you're in charge, but
really they're dictating the temperature of the whole house.
(09:09):
Then out of nowhere, something cracks the door open.
It could be a relationship whereyou finally feel safe enough to
let your guard down. A book, podcast, or even a
TikTok that hits you so hard youfeel exposed.
(09:33):
A therapy session where your ownwords betray you.
Or maybe just a random 2:00 AM thought that won't let you
sleep. And suddenly, there it is, your
sexuality, not gone, not erased,just waiting like it's been
(09:59):
sitting on the couch the whole time, watching you contort your
life around avoiding it. And the most shocking part?
You realize it's been shaping you from the shadows all along,
influencing the way you connect,the way you love, the way you
see yourself. It's been pulling strings behind
(10:23):
the scenes, guiding who you feltdrawn to, what you feared, what
you avoided, sometimes in ways you didn't even recognize.
It wasn't gone. It was just bidding its time,
patient as hell, waiting for theday you were ready to let it
(10:43):
back into the room. Repressed sexuality isn't no
one's texting me back. It's more like you boxed up your
sexual self, labeled it do not open, and shoved it behind the
holiday decorations so well thatyou forget it's there until the
(11:06):
pipes start rattling and you realize the box is basically
haunting the house. And you didn't do that because
you're dramatic, you did it because at some point it felt
safer. Years of shame, fear, trauma,
and cultures Pearl clutching cantrain your nervous system to
(11:27):
treat desire like a live wire. If you were raised where sex was
a moral report card, or every convo about it came with a
warning label and the threat of ruining your life, your body
learns lock it down. If something happened, sexual or
not, that fused arousal with danger, your body learns lock it
(11:51):
down. If you got squeezed into rigid
gender scripts or heteronormative,
heteronormative, excuse me, templates that didn't fit, your
body learns lock it down. That's not apathy, that's
strategy. The weird part is how effective
(12:13):
the strategy can be until it isn't You.
You can function like this for years, Perform what's expected,
keep things fine, joke about being low libido or not that
kind of person. Meanwhile the boxed up parts
leak through the scenes. Maybe you overthink every
(12:36):
intimate moment, feel a wave of guilt after pleasure, or avoid
situations that might spark desire because you don't trust
what comes next. Maybe your fantasies show up out
of nowhere and freak you out notbecause they're wrong, but
because they're unfamiliar. Maybe relationships feel
(12:58):
curiously flat or confusing, like you're showing up with
heart and brain but the lights are off in the downstairs
department. When that survival tactic sticks
around past its expiration date,it doesn't just mute your sex
(13:19):
life, it mutes you. It's like putting duct tape over
an entire part of your identity,and I'm wondering why everything
else feels muffled. Boundaries start to blur,
because how can you know what you do want if you've trained
yourself to never want at all? Consent gets scrambled too, not
(13:43):
because you don't care, but because it's hard to give a
clear yes or no when you can't even access the internal compass
that's supposed to guide you. And confidence that slowly
erodes because it's impossible to feel fully grounded when an
entire piece of you is locked away in exile, treated like it's
(14:06):
dangerous or shameful instead ofsimply human.
Now, reconnection isn't about going from zero to 100
overnight. It's not the makeover montage
where you RIP off your glasses, toss your hair, and suddenly
emerge as the sexy version of yourself.
(14:28):
It's subtler, slower, and so much more real.
It's about learning your own language again, letting
curiosity show up without panic,letting desire breathe without
putting it on trial. Letting pleasure exist without
(14:49):
charging it an emotional shame tax.
Step by step, you reintroduce yourself to parts you thought
you'd lost, until what felt foreign starts to feel natural.
And that's the real glow up. Not turning yourself into some
(15:09):
performative stereotype of what sexy is supposed to look like,
but reclaiming the locked room in your own house, the part you
were told to avoid or to fear, and turning the lights back on.
Integration isn't flashy, but it's powerful.
(15:33):
It's the difference between living in 1/2 furnished
apartment and finally moving into the whole damn house that
was yours all along. Repression isn't usually some
dramatic blood oath to never feel horny again.
It's sneakier, more passive kindof thing your brain does on the
(15:57):
sly. It's like one day without your
input, it installs A parental control filter on your sexuality
set. It sets it to strict, and then
promptly loses the password. A lot of the time this update
happens when you're still a kid or teen.
(16:20):
Maybe you learned the hard way through outright rejection, a
scolding that burned into your memory, or the looming threat of
being judged, shunned, or punished, that any flicker of
sexual curiosity was dangerous. And so, without consciously
deciding, you start shutting that part of yourself down.
(16:46):
In the beginning, It's adaptive.It protects you from ridicule,
judgment, or worse. But what starts as a safety
measure slowly hardens into a reflex.
Over the years. The off switch flips
automatically, even in situations where you're safe,
(17:09):
supported, and free to explore. The tricky part?
Repression doesn't actually delete your sexuality, it just
buries it like a perfectly preserved time capsule under 6
feet of Nope and times have time.
Capsules don't just vanish, theywait building pressure until
(17:35):
something cracks. When repression starts to leak,
it doesn't come out in cinematicways.
No dramatic confession scene with swelling violins in the
background. It's messier, settler, and
honestly a little disorienting sometimes.
(17:58):
It's the sudden wave of shame that hits you right after a
sexual experience you were genuinely enjoying a moment ago,
Like your brain has its own internal referee throwing
penalty flags long after the play is over.
Other times it's ducking out of conversations the second they
get even remotely flirty, laughing it off, changing the
(18:22):
subject, or suddenly needing to go check on something even
though deep down part of you wishes you could stay and lean
into the banter. Then there are the rogue
fantasies, the ones that show uplike pop up ads in your brain,
(18:43):
uninvited and jarring. They can leave you shaken, not
because there's anything inherently wrong with them, but
because they remind you that there's a whole landscape of
desire in you that you've been taught not to look at.
And perhaps the most painful version, that madding sense of
(19:07):
disconnection in intimacy. Wanting to connect physically,
emotionally, sexually, but feeling like you're pressing up
against an invisible pane of glass.
You can see what you want on theother side, maybe even touch it,
(19:27):
but you can't fully access it. That's the cruel trick of
repression. It often begins as self
protection, a way to keep yourself safe in environments
where being open about your sexuality would have come at too
high a cost. But if it goes on too long, it
doesn't just protect you, it erases you.
(19:51):
Slowly, piece by piece, you start to lose access to your own
wants, your own signals, your own sense of aliveness.
And that quiet erosion can be harder to notice than outright
pain because it doesn't explode,it just numbs until you realize
(20:18):
you've been living half a life. Unpacking repressed sexuality
almost never begins with a tidy road map or a five step plan to
self discovery. More often, it's triggered by
something that rattles the snow globe of your inner world and
(20:38):
forces you to notice all the pieces you've been pretending
weren't there. And sometimes that trigger comes
out of nowhere. A book, a podcast, a TikTok, a
throwaway line and a show that lands in your lap at just the
right or wrong moment. And suddenly you don't just feel
(21:00):
intrigued, you feel seen. Not the casual, oh that's
relatable kind of scene, but thegut punched, breath stolen.
Holy shit, this is me kind of recognition.
Recognition that makes your whole body light up with truth.
(21:24):
It's the kind of moment that shakes you out of autopilot, The
realization that maybe you're not broken, defective, or too
different to fit in. Maybe the problem isn't you at
all. It's the outdated, poorly
written rulebook you've been living under. 1 drafted by
(21:46):
people who never actually considered Someone Like You.
The handbook told you how you should feel, who you should
want, what shape your love and desire should take, and for
years you tried to follow it, erasing pieces of yourself in
the process. But in that lightning bolt
(22:09):
moment of recognition, it clicks.
The rule book was never written for you, and you don't actually
have to keep playing by it. Other times, the spark isn't a
lightning bolt realization, it'srelational.
You find yourself in a connection that doesn't play by
(22:33):
the old rules, one that feels steady and safe from the start.
Maybe it's romantic, maybe it's platonic, maybe it's deliciously
somewhere in between. But the important part is this.
Safety isn't something you have to hustle for.
(22:55):
Earn or bargain your way into it's baked in a given, and in
that kind of environment, your armor starts to loosen without
you even noticing. Jokes land differently, intimacy
(23:16):
doesn't feel like a trapdoor, and curiosity stops setting off
alarms in your body. You realize that maybe, just
maybe, you can show up as your whole self without bracing for
punishment. Or maybe it's not another person
(23:37):
at all. Maybe it's therapy, where you're
sitting across from someone trained to hear what you're not
saying. You're halfway through a session
when your own words catch you off guard, like you've been
circling the subject of sexuality without ever naming
it. You notice how often you dodge
(24:00):
those topics, how quickly you changed lanes the moment the
road starts looking sexual, likeyou're swerving around potholes.
You know by heart. And that's the moment the
unraveling begins. You ask yourself why.
Why the avoidance? Why the discomfort?
(24:24):
And once you start tugging on that thread, you realize it's
connected to a whole web of beliefs, beers, and silences
that have been quietly shaping you all along.
And sometimes it's not poetic atall.
(24:45):
It's raw, blunt, and honestly kind of fed up.
You hit a wall with your own dissatisfaction.
Life has been fine. Not catastrophic, not terrible,
just a flat numbing fine for so long that it starts to feel
(25:08):
unbearable. That blandness, that low grade
disconnection, becomes its own kind of crisis, and in that
space, curiosity stops looking like a threat and starts looking
(25:30):
like oxygen. You realize you'd rather risk
shaking things up then keep trudging through the Gray haze
of vine, so you start following the thread of that curiosity.
Not recklessly, not without fear.
(25:53):
The fear is still there, hummingin the background, but with this
gnawing sense that staying numb might actually cost you more in
the long run than whatever awkwardness, mistakes, or
revelations come with waking yourself up.
(26:14):
And however your journey begins,it's never clean.
There's always a mix of exhilaration and panic, the
thrill of discovery braided withthe dread of stepping into the
unknown, that oh God, what am I doing voice shows up right
alongside the Holy Shit I'm Alive 1.
(26:38):
And as uncomfortable as that tension feels, it's actually the
sweet spot, that space where terror and thrill coexist that's
the edge of growth. It means you're no longer
anesthetized by repression. You're alive in the messy
(27:01):
electric process of becoming, unpacking repressed.
Sexuality isn't the kind of blowup you can knock out in a tidy 2
minute Hollywood montage. It's not one cathartic cry in
the shower of power. Excuse me, A power ballad
(27:22):
blasting in the background and then suddenly you're strutting
through life in slow motion withperfect hair and unshakeable
confidence. No, it's a long haul excavation
project. More like peeling wallpaper in
100 year old house. Layers upon layers, Some
(27:44):
crumbling easily, others glued on like they were designed by
Satan himself. It's dusty, it's messy, and half
the time you're staring at the walls thinking, maybe I should
have just left this shit alone. But here's the kicker.
(28:05):
Every time you think you've got it, every time you peel back a
layer and breathe a sigh of relief, there's another one
underneath, stickier and more stubborn than the last.
And each layer comes stamped with its own outdated warning
(28:26):
labels. Don't go there.
That's dangerous. People will leave you.
You're wrong. At one point in your life, those
labels kept you safe. They made sense in the
environment you grew up in. But now they're just clutter,
(28:46):
ghost rules that haunt your wiring and make you second guess
truths that are actually yours to claim.
The work, then, isn't about bulldozing the whole house or
pretending those labels never existed.
It's about methodically peeling them back, examining them,
(29:08):
deciding whether they still serve you, and slowly making
space for your real, unfiltered self underneath.
It's painstaking, it's unglamorous, and it's definitely
not linear. But it's also where the real
transformation happens. It begins with awareness, and
(29:34):
let me tell you, it is not glamorous, not an epiphany with
Angel choir singing. It's more like realizing that
you've been walking around with a rock in your shoe for years
and just decided to keep limpinginstead of taking it out.
Awareness is that moment when you finally admit to yourself,
(29:59):
yeah, I've been shutting this part of me down, and whether I
meant to or not, it's been steering my life in ways I never
signed up for. It's uncomfortable, it's
humbling, and it's often the first time you stop pretending
(30:19):
you don't notice the pattern. Then comes permission.
And honestly, this is where mostpeople get stuck.
Giving yourself the green light to actually explore is
terrifying because it means going against all those
internalized warning labels. It's saying I'm allowed to feel
(30:44):
curiosity. I'm allowed to want things.
I don't have to justify or defend this to anyone, including
the imaginary jury in my head. Demanding A-37 slide PowerPoint
with citations permission is scary because it feels like
breaking rules you didn't even know you agreed to, but it's
(31:07):
also the single most freeing step you'll take.
Only after you do that is when you arrive at exploration.
And here's the secret. Exploration doesn't have to look
like cannonballing into the deepend.
(31:28):
It's not repressed yesterday, leather harness tomorrow.
Exploration can be subtle, quiet, and low stakes.
It can be letting your fantasiesbreathe instead of shoving them
back into the junk drawer labeled Do not open.
(31:50):
It can be reading erotica or queer romance without shame,
scrolling past it like you've accidentally stumbled onto a
crime scene. It can be having one honest
conversation with a trusted friend or partner about what
you're curious about instead of swallowing the words whole.
(32:12):
Or it can be experimenting physically, in ways that feel
safe and measured, not performative and pressured.
Every single one of those steps is an act of rebellion against
the programming that told you don't go there.
They're small, yes, but they're also radical, tiny cracks in the
(32:35):
old foundation that eventually let the whole structure
collapse, making room for something truer.
If you keep going, you eventually reach integration,
the place where your sexual selfstops being that side character
(32:56):
you only trot out on special occasions, like a guest star in
your own life. Instead, it becomes part of the
main cast, seamlessly woven intowho you are day-to-day.
It's not a mask you slip on in certain contexts, or a secret
you keep locked in the attic. It's just you showing up fully.
(33:24):
And the wild part? Once it's integrated, it doesn't
feel like this massive, shockingthing anymore.
It feels ordinary, natural, unremarkable in the best
possible way. That old locked box in your
(33:48):
psyche, the one stamped with Do not TOUCH in big red letters,
doesn't just get pried open, it disappears altogether.
What replaces it isn't performative sexiness or some
hyper polished new identity. It's a deep, steady sense of
(34:08):
wholeness. You're no longer slicing
yourself into pieces or rationing out safe, palatable
versions of who you are. You stop editing yourself mid
sentence. Stop bracing for judgement
before you even speak. Stop carrying the disclaimer.
But don't worry, I'm normal. Integration means you get to
(34:31):
take up your full space without apology.
And here's the kicker. That wholeness doesn't just
shift your relationship to sex. It shifts everything.
Confidence feels less like a costume and more like your
(34:52):
natural posture. Relationships get richer because
you're not hiding half the map from the people trying to love
you. Even the way you experience joy,
creativity, and connection expands because when one part of
you comes home, the rest of you breathes easier, too.
(35:15):
Integration isn't the flashy finale.
It's the quiet revolution where you finally get to live as
yourself, completely without footnotes.
When you start unpacking repressed sexuality.
It's not all candlelight, silk sheets and perfectly perfectly
(35:38):
curated self love playlists. It's more like a road trip where
the map is smudged, the GPS say keeps saying recalculating, and
there are a few unavoidable potholes along the way.
First up, the shame hangover. This one's sneaky.
(36:00):
You could be feeling great in the moment, turned on, curious,
empowered, and then hours or even days later, those crusty
old beliefs you thought you'd outgrown creep back in.
(36:21):
It's like an uninvited ex who somehow still knows your Netflix
password. They barge in, criticize your
choices, and make you wonder if you've made a huge mistake.
This doesn't mean you're failing, It means your brain's
still running on some outdated programming and you're in the
middle of updating the software.Then there's the overcorrection
(36:46):
phase, which can feel like goingfrom a barren wasteland to an
over watered swamp overnight. One minute you're cautiously
dipping a toe into sexual exploration and the next you're
sprinting head first into everything, saying yes to
people, experiences or dynamics without stopping to ask yourself
(37:10):
if they actually feel good or align with your values.
It's not uncommon. After years of scarcity,
abundance can feel intoxicating,but unchecked, it can lead you
into situations that don't actually support your healing.
(37:32):
And finally, there's external pushback.
Because the second you start shifting your relationship with
your sexuality, trust me, somebody out there is going to
notice. And not everyone is going to
respond with balloons and a supportive banner.
Some people will get uncomfortable not because you're
(37:54):
doing anything wrong, but because your change shines a
light on their own unexamined beliefs.
Others will outright judge, tossing side eyes or backhanded
comments meant to shrink you back down.
And then there are the ones who won't even bother being subtle.
They'll try to guilt, shame, or flat out pressure you back into
(38:17):
the neat little box you used to live in because your repression
made them comfortable. That's where boundaries stop
being optional and start being essential.
Not the flimsy kind you whisper with a question mark at the end,
but the firm, unapologetic kind that draw a bright neon line.
(38:39):
This is my lane, my timeline, mybody, my rules.
Boundaries are what keep your progress from being hijacked by
someone else's discomfort. They're how you protect the
fragile, tender beginnings of your growth from being trampled
by people who either don't get it or don't want you to get
(39:03):
free. Because here's the truth.
You don't need a permission slipfrom anyone to live fully in
your own skin. Especially not from the very
voices that taught you to repress yourself in the 1st
place. If anything, their disapproval
(39:24):
is proof that you're stepping out of the script they handed
you. Which is exactly the point.
Growth doesn't always look like applause.
It often looks like holding yourground while others wrestle with
their own unease. And in those moments, your
(39:45):
boundaries are both shield and sword, protecting what's sacred
while declaring without apology that you're done living small
when you start drawing lines around your sexuality.
Boundaries don't always need to be dramatic speeches.
They can be short, firm statements that redirect the
(40:06):
conversation without leaving room for debate.
So here's a few ways they might sound in real life.
If someone tries to minimize or dismiss your identity, you could
say something like I'm not asking you to understand this,
I'm asking you to respect it. If a friend or family member
(40:27):
pushes you back toward heteronormative expectations,
something like So when are you settling down with a nice guy or
girl? You could say something like
that. Assume that assumption doesn't
fit me and I need you to stop making it.
If someone guilt trips you for changing, you could say
(40:47):
something like I know this is different from what you're used
to, but my growth isn't up for negotiation.
If someone says something, let excuse me.
If you're not ready to share details but want the topic
closed, you could say something like that's personal and I'm not
(41:08):
discussing it with you, please drop it.
If someone straight up mocks or shames you, you could say this
isn't funny to me. If you can't speak respectfully,
I won't continue this conversation.
Or ever a classic. You could ask them to explain
the joke. If they if they think they're
(41:33):
making a joke, ask them to explain the joke.
That's always a good move, because they frequently can't
explain it. The beauty of boundaries is that
they don't have to be long explanations.
Actually, the shorter and clearer, the better.
They're not an opening for the bait, They're a period at the
(41:56):
end of the sentence. And the more unapologetically
you practice saying them, the more natural it feels to defend
the ground you've reclaimed. When you stop shoving your
sexuality into the dusty, overstuffed we don't talk about
that drawer and actually let it take up space in your identity,
(42:20):
the whole foundation of your life starts to feel sturdier.
It's like moving from balancing on a flimsy stage set where
everything looks fine from the outside but wobbles the second
you put weight on it, to finallystanding on bedrock.
There's a groundedness that wasn't there before, because
(42:42):
you're not performing wholeness anymore, you're living it.
Your confidence shifts too. It stops being this rehearsed
act. You wheel out for other people's
approval and become something that hums quietly inside you,
rooted in the fact that you actually know yourself.
(43:05):
And not just the shiny, curated parts, the messy, tender,
complicated parts as well. You know what turns you on and
what turns you off. You know what's worth
experimenting with and what's a hard no.
You know where your boundaries are, not because someone else
(43:26):
drew them, but because you've walked around inside yourself
enough times to map them out. That kind of clarity radiates.
People feel it, even if they can't articulate why.
It shows up in the way you move through relationships, the way
(43:46):
you speak your needs without flinching, the way you don't
crumble when someone pushes back.
It's the difference between showing up like a carefully
staged version of yourself and showing up like the real deal.
Unedited, unapologetic, solid. And once you felt that shift,
(44:11):
going back to hiding whole partsof yourself isn't an option
anymore. Your relationships begin to
transform in ways you don't always see coming.
When you stop hiding an entire wing of yourself, it's like
unlocking doors you didn't realize were bolted shut.
(44:31):
Suddenly, connections you form feel less like you're following
a tired script and more like you're improvising in real time
with honesty, vulnerability, anda lot less fear of saying the
wrong thing. Instead of mentally editing mid
sentence, snipping off the edgesof your truth so you don't
(44:53):
reveal too much, you can actually stay present in the
conversation, in the moment, in your body.
That kind of presence is rare, and people can feel it.
And here's the best part. Authenticity is magnetic.
Not the curated Instagram filterkind of authenticity, but the
(45:17):
real deal where you're not performing to impress, you're
not auditioning for approval, you're not holding your breath
waiting to see if who you are will be too much.
You're just you, uncensored and unshrinking.
(45:40):
That energy draws people in. It deepens intimacy, strengthens
trust, and even changes the caliber of relationships you
attract. Instead of connections built on
performance or compliance, you start building ones rooted in
(46:01):
truth. And the ones that can't handle
the truth, They tend to fall away, which hurts at first, but
ultimately makes space for the people who are always meant to
meet the whole version of you. In romantic relationships,
integration means you're no longer playing a part to fit
(46:23):
someone else's fantasy. You're not pretending to be
simpler or straighter or less complicated than you are.
You're showing up as the full Technicolor version of yourself.
That honesty not only deepens intimacy but also helps weed out
partners who can't actually meetyou where you are.
(46:46):
Instead of trying to earn love by shrinking, you attract people
who fall for you precisely because you're expansive.
In platonic friendships, the shift is just as powerful.
You're not tiptoeing around topics, dodging certain
confessions, or biting your tongue when a piece of your
truth slips out. You can share your crushes, your
(47:09):
desires, your stories without fear of judgment.
And when your friends get to seethe real you, it opens the door
for them to bring more of themselves forward to.
Authenticity has a way of givingothers permission to be
authentic right back. It's contagious in the best way.
(47:32):
Now, in family dynamics, this integration can be trickier
because families often carry thedeepest layers of expectation
and conditioning. Some relatives may resist or
push back when the role you usedto play doesn't fit anymore.
But living in alignment with your whole self creates new
(47:54):
boundaries, new patterns, and sometimes, even if it's slow, a
ripple effect of honesty in the family system.
Even if not everyone claps for your freedom, your courage
models a different way of being.And that matters.
And in professional settings, itdoesn't mean you're suddenly
(48:15):
narrating your sex life at the water cooler.
But it does mean you're done compartmentalizing to the point
of invisibility. Confidence rooted in wholeness
shows up in your work. You advocate more clearly,
collaborate more authentically, and stop over apologizing for
(48:37):
taking up space. Colleagues might not know why
you seem different, but they feel it.
They feel that steadiness, that clarity, that spark when you
stop rationing parts of yourself.
Every relationship, romantic, platonic, familial, professional
(49:00):
shifts. Some will deepen, some will fall
away, and some will be born anew.
But the ones that last, they'll be built on something far better
than performance. They'll be built on truth.
Then there's bodily autonomy, and I'm not just talking about
(49:24):
the surface level. My body, My choice bumper
sticker version, though? Yes, absolutely that too.
I mean the deeper kind where your decisions about your body
finally come from a place untangled from guilt, shame,
fear, or a sense of owing something to someone else.
(49:46):
It's the shift from making choices because you should or
because you're trying to keep the peace, to making them
because they actually align withyour own desire, comfort, and
values. When that happens, pleasure
stops being this guilty little side hustle you sneak in or feel
(50:07):
like you have to justify. It's no longer a bargaining chip
you trade for love, attention, or safety.
Instead, pleasure becomes yours to define and pursue in whatever
feels authentic, whether that's through love, sex, touch,
movement, creativity, or any other form of embodied joy.
(50:31):
You start to recognize that yourbody isn't a problem to be
managed or a commodity to be negotiated, but a home you're
allowed to enjoy. It's a full on reclamation.
Your skin, your sensations, yourboundaries, your choices.
(50:53):
They all belong to you again. And that reclamation is powerful
because it shifts the narrative from what do other people want
from me to what do I actually want for myself.
That's when autonomy stops beingjust a concept and starts being
(51:17):
a lived reality. You as the authority, the
gatekeeper, and the celebrant ofyour own body.
When you reclaim bodily autonomy, it doesn't just shift
how you feel in your own skin, it completely reshapes how you
experience intimacy. Suddenly, sex isn't something
(51:41):
you perform for someone else's approval or affection.
It's something you choose because you want it, because it
feels good, because it nourishesyou.
That shift alone is seismic. Think about how often people,
(52:02):
especially those raised with repression, learn to approach
intimacy as a kind of transaction.
If I do this, they'll love me. If I don't, they'll leave.
If I agree, I'll avoid conflict.That's not desire, that's
(52:27):
survival. And when survival scripts are
running the show, intimacy oftenfeels more like acting out a
role than actually connecting. But when autonomy is restored,
the whole script flits. You start checking in with
(52:48):
yourself first. Do I want this?
Do I feel safe here? Does this spark curiosity, joy,
or connection? And when the answer is yes, the
cure, the excuse me. When the answer is yes, the
experience feels radically different.
(53:08):
There's no resentment simmering under the surface, no disconnect
that makes you feel like you're watching yourself from outside
your body instead, your present.Grounded, able to receive and
give pleasure without that shametax attached.
(53:29):
And here's the kicker. This doesn't just elevate sex,
it deepens emotional intimacy too.
Because when your yes is real, your no is real.
And your partner or partners know they can trust both.
(53:50):
That kind of honesty builds a foundation where closeness
doesn't feel like pressure. It feels like freedom.
Autonomy, paradoxically, is whatmakes true intimacy possible.
Because you're no longer relating out of fear or
(54:11):
obligation. You're relating out of choice.
And maybe the sweetest payoff? Life itself gets louder,
brighter, and a hell of a lot more delicious when you're not
locking a whole part of yourselfin the attic.
(54:31):
You stop living like you're rationing emotions during a
blackout. Suddenly you're not on half
portions of joy, half portions of desire, half portions of
connection. You're feasting on the whole
spread, and the wild part is it doesn't just show up in the
bedroom. Desire has this sneaky way of
(54:56):
spilling over into everything else.
Once you stop shoving it down, you start noticing it in your
creativity. Ideas feel juicier.
Projects feel more alive. Your voice gets bolder.
It shows up in ambition. You feel less like you're
(55:17):
dragging yourself through obligations and more like you're
chasing things that actually light you up.
It shows up in joy. You laugh louder.
You savor more. You stop apologizing for wanting
things just because they delightyou.
And it shows up in connection. You relate to people with more
(55:38):
warmth, more presence, more spark, because you're no longer
editing out the parts of you that make you feel most alive.
It's like living in grayscale for years and suddenly switching
to full Technicolor. The contrast is undeniable.
(56:00):
Before, you were just existing, moving through the motions like
a background character in your own life.
After you're actually living. Messy, vibrant, fully embodied
living. And once you've had a taste of
that, going back to muted survival mode isn't even an
(56:25):
option. The thing is, this isn't just
theory or something I've read ina psych textbook.
It's another area where I've gotskin in the game.
Remember way back in the very first episode when I said I've
(56:46):
lived a life? Yeah, Well, this is one of those
chapters. Today you get to hear another
piece of it, one of those messy,complicated, deeply human parts
of my own story that shaped how I see myself, how I connect with
(57:07):
others, and why I even talk about this stuff in the 1st
place. It's not always comfortable to
share, but that's kind of the point.
Unpacking repressed sexuality ispersonal, it's raw, and for me,
it's lived. So you're not just getting the
(57:29):
research or the metaphors today,you're getting me unfiltered.
Growing up, sexuality wasn't just absent from the
conversation. It was practically quarantined,
sealed off behind metaphorical caution tape like it was
(57:51):
radioactive material nobody dared touch.
It wasn't discussed in any way, shape or form.
Not in school, not at home, not even in throwaway birds and bees
way that at least gives you a starting point.
It was treated like a forbidden subject that would set off
(58:13):
alarms if you Even so much as brushed against it.
And underneath that silence was a thick, unspoken subtext.
The only acceptable way to existwas straight, period, Full stop.
(58:34):
End of story. Anything that fell outside that
razor thin lane wasn't just discouraged, it was erased
altogether, made invisible. The possibility of queerness
wasn't even acknowledged as a three theoretical option.
And when something doesn't get words, doesn't get modeled,
(58:58):
doesn't get named, it's like it doesn't exist at all.
That erasure creates confusion across the board.
Even kids who are straight end up fumbling around in the dark,
piercing together scraps of misinformation, pop culture
cliches, and whispered rumors just to make sense of their own
(59:19):
desires. But when you're not straight,
that confusion multiplies. By 1000, you're left trying to
navigate feelings you don't havea map for, feelings that don't
fit the script, that don't show up in examples you've been
(59:40):
given. And without language, without
validation, you start to wonder if you're broken, if what you're
feeling is wrong, and if you're the only one in the world
feeling it. That silence doesn't just leave
(01:00:03):
you uninformed, it leaves you isolated.
As a kid, you don't have the language for that kind of
erasure. You don't have the cultural
references, the definitions, or even the reassurance that what
you're feeling exists outside your own head.
(01:00:26):
All you know is there are these feelings bubbling up inside you.
Moments of attraction, sparks ofcuriosity, gut level instincts
that don't line up with the script you've been handed.
And because no one ever names them for you, you can't name
(01:00:50):
them for yourself. Looking back now, with the
hindsight of experience and a much broader understanding of
sexuality, I can see the signs were practically waving flags
the whole time. The crushes I didn't even
realize were crushes. The way I gravitated towards
(01:01:13):
certain characters on TV or certain friendships that held an
extra layer of intensity. The questions I asked myself
late at night that I couldn't quite put words to.
The gut feelings that didn't fitthe acceptable narrative but
kept surfacing anyway. All the bread crumbs were there,
I just didn't know I was supposed to follow them.
(01:01:36):
At the time, though, there was no framework, no road map, no
one saying hey, this is normal, this, this might mean something.
So I did the only thing I thought was possible.
I stuffed it down. I shoved those feelings into the
mental junk drawer, slammed it shut and convinced myself I was
(01:02:00):
confused, broken, or maybe just imagining the whole thing.
That silence turned into self doubt, and that self doubt
hardened into repression. And the wild part is I didn't
even realize that's what was happening until years later.
(01:02:21):
For so long it wasn't I'm repressing myself, it was just
this is this is how it is it. It took years to understand that
the silence around me had trained me to silence myself.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment the shift happened in my
(01:02:42):
consciousness, the moment I realized I didn't only like
Boys. There wasn't some cinematic
lightning bolt, no aha moment where everything suddenly
clicked into place. It was slower, quieter, more
(01:03:02):
like a steady drip that eventually filled the bucket
over time. I just began to notice that my
attractions didn't fit neatly into the hetero only box I'd
been crammed into as a kid. It wasn't teenage rebellion or
some secret high school romance that clued me in.
(01:03:25):
Honestly, I think I was too busysurviving and too conditioned to
filter out anything that didn't fit the script.
It wasn't until I was a full on adult with bills,
responsibilities and a few emotional scars under my belt
that I had the space and self-awareness to name it.
What finally sank in was this. I didn't just like boys, I was
(01:03:53):
also attracted to girls sexually, romantically, in all
the messy human ways. And instead of it feeling like
some earth shattering revelation, it came as an
acceptance, like sliding into a truth that had been waiting for
me all along. It wasn't fireworks, it was
(01:04:19):
finally exhaling. First came the label of
bisexual, because that was the only language I had at the time,
the neat little definition I'd absorb somewhere along the way
that basically translated to Youlike boys and You like girls.
(01:04:40):
It felt like the best fitting option with the vocabulary I had
back then, even if it didn't capture the full scope of my
experience at that stage. It wasn't about nuance or
identity politics or the infinite spectrum of attraction.
It was about finally having a word, any word, that made me
(01:05:03):
feel less like I was wandering around nameless.
Slapping that label on myself felt equal parts relief and
rebellion. Relief because I wasn't crazy
for feeling what I felt, and rebellion because saying it out
loud was my way of pushing back against every silent, straight
(01:05:25):
only script I'd grown up with. And then, because language and
life are constantly evolving, and because the Internet is
occasionally good for something other than memes and doom
scrolling, I stumbled across theterm pansexual.
And suddenly everything clicked into place in a way that
(01:05:48):
bisexual never had. It was like finding the missing
puzzle piece that had been hiding under the couch the whole
time. Because here's the thing, I've
always known it wasn't about thepackaging for me.
The connection, the energy, the person.
That's what mattered. I joke that I'm never going to
(01:06:11):
reach into someone's pants and come away disappointed because
whatever is there isn't the dealbreaker.
As our beloved David Rose put itso perfectly on Schitt's Creek.
I like the wine, not the label. That one line gave me the kind
of clarity years of silence, shame and confusion never could.
(01:06:37):
Pansexuality gave me language that felt like home, not like a
compromise. It reminded me that who I am has
always been valid, even when I didn't have the words for it
yet. Looking back, there were signs
(01:06:58):
all along. Good Lord, there were so many
neon blinking, flashing, practically screaming signs that
I was not a straight girly. Like hindsight me wants to grab
teenage me by the shoulders and say babe, the call is coming
(01:07:20):
from inside the house. I wasn't just casually invested
in the femme characters on TV shows and movies.
I was fully entranced. My favorite character list was
basically just a catalog of women I couldn't take my eyes
off of. And don't even get me started on
(01:07:43):
how suspiciously intense some ofmy friendships were.
Spoiler alert, if you're daydreaming about your best
friend like it's a ROM com plot line, you're not just really
close. And that retrospective audit of
my attractions actually brought me to another layer of my
(01:08:05):
sexuality that I've unpacked over time.
Dummy sexuality. Because for me, attraction
doesn't just happen on site. It's not a simple oh they're hot
and boom I'm in. It takes connection, trust and
(01:08:29):
that emotional spark for the sexual attraction to kick in.
At the time, I thought that meant I was picky or slow to
catch on, but in reality it was just another piece of my
orientation puzzle. Once I learned the word
(01:08:50):
demisexual, it was like, oh, that's why I didn't line up with
the scripts I saw in teen movieswhere everyone was immediately
drooling over the hottest personin the room.
It wasn't disinterest or repression, it was wiring.
(01:09:14):
And realizing that helped me stop questioning what was wrong
with me and start embracing the way I'm actually built.
For me, realizing I was demisexual was like someone
finally handing me the Rosetta Stone to my own love life.
(01:09:35):
Because here's the thing. Attraction isn't just one
monolithic experience. It's layered.
There's aesthetic attraction, where you can recognize that
someone looks good, has killer style, or a smile that could
stop traffic. Then there's romantic
attraction, that little flutter that makes you want to hold
(01:09:57):
someone's hand, write them notes, or imagine being with
them in that sweet, tender way. And then there's sexual
attraction, which is the oh hello there feeling that tends
to get the most air time in our culture for demisexual folks
(01:10:18):
like me. That last part, the sexual
attraction, it doesn't really switch on without an emotional
connection in place. It's not that I can't recognize
that someone is objectively attractive, it's just that for
me, the spark doesn't translate into actual desire unless
(01:10:42):
there's trust, safety, and connection woven in.
I used to think this meant I waslate to the game, or that I was
somehow defective because I didn't have the immediate
lightning strike horniness that everyone on TV and then high
school locker room seemed to talk about.
But once I understood demisexuality, it reframed
(01:11:07):
everything. I wasn't broken, it was just
wired differently. And honestly, it explains so
much of my past. Why I crushed so hard on close
friends but never really cared about random celebrity
obsessions. Why I could admire someone's
looks but not want them in the way other people did.
(01:11:32):
Why attraction for me has alwaysfelt like it grows from the
inside out rather than the outside in.
Learning that language gave me permission to stop comparing
myself to a script that was never written for me in the 1st
place. And The thing is, once I stopped
(01:11:53):
fighting myself and actually accepted all those little
facets, the repressed, tucked away, half ignored pieces of my
sexuality, I found myself becoming so much more grounded
as a human being. It wasn't like flipping a switch
(01:12:14):
or suddenly reinventing my wholeidentity.
It was subtler than that, but also way more profound.
It was like finally exhaling after holding my breath for
years without realizing it. It's not in my nature to be the
one marching down Main St. decked out head to toe in
rainbow glitter, though truly, Ilove that journey for everyone
(01:12:38):
who lives it. Loud.
My version of authenticity doesn't look like megaphones and
parade floats. It looks like a quiet
steadiness, like finally feelingat home in my own skin.
What shifted for me wasn't aboutbecoming someone different, it
(01:13:01):
was about becoming more me. Before, repressing those parts
of myself made me feel constantly restless, like there
were bees buzzing under my skin that I couldn't swat away.
My body felt off, like my jointswere just slightly misaligned,
(01:13:25):
like I was always walking arounda little crooked.
After acceptance, that tension eased.
The buzzing quieted. The pieces that once felt jagged
started to click into place. I didn't need to become louder,
I just needed to become whole. And that wholeness felt less
(01:13:49):
like an explosion and more like alignment, like the universe
snapping a puzzle piece into where it always belonged.
And that's really the heart of it.
Accepting those repressed parts of my sexuality didn't turn me
into someone new. It anchored me more deeply into
(01:14:13):
myself. For me, it wasn't about waving a
flag the size of a bed sheet or shouting my identity from the
rooftops, though I'll always cheer for anyone who does.
My version of liberation looked quieter, more internal.
(01:14:34):
It was about finally feeling steady in my own body, less like
I was buzzing with bees under myskin, less like my bones didn't
quite fit together. Because here's the thing.
Repression takes pieces of you and locks them away, but
(01:14:54):
integration gives them back. It's not about becoming someone
else. It's about reclaiming the
wholeness that was always there.And when you let those pieces
come home, when you stop shovingthem into the attic and
pretending they don't exist, youget to live with a kind of
(01:15:14):
alignment that feels unshakable.So whether your journey looks
loud and colorful or quiet and deeply personal, the point is
the same. Your sexuality, your identity,
your desires are not liabilities.
(01:15:36):
They are the blueprint of who you are.
And the more you embrace them, the more grounded, connected,
and alive you get to feel. That's the payoff of unpacking
repression. Not perfection, not a Hollywood
montage ending, but the steady, everyday miracle of finally
(01:16:01):
being whole. So as we wrap up today's
episode, I want to leave you with this Unpacking.
Repressed sexuality isn't about suddenly reinventing yourself or
becoming some hyper polished version of sexy.
It's about letting go of the silence, the shame, and the
(01:16:24):
outdated rulebooks that never actually fit you in the 1st
place. It's about giving yourself
permission to explore, to question, to feel and to name
the parts of you that have been waiting quietly in the wings for
their cue. For some of you, this journey
(01:16:46):
might look loud and proud, parades, glitter and full volume
celebration. For others it might be quieter,
more personal, just the steady work of peeling back layers and
reclaiming the rooms in yourselfthat you were told to lock away.
(01:17:07):
Both paths are valid, both are brave.
Both are worth celebrating. What matters most is that you
start listening inward, that youstop treating your desires like
intruders and instead welcome them home as part of the whole
complicated, beautiful human youare.
(01:17:31):
Because the truth is, repressiondoesn't erase who you are, it
just disconnects you from it. And every step you take toward
awareness, permission, exploration, and integration is
a step toward wholeness. So wherever you are in this
(01:17:53):
process, whether you're just beginning to notice the cracks
in the old armor, or you're deepin the messy middle of
exploration, or you've started to feel the grounding of
integration, know that you're not alone.
This isn't linear, it isn't easy, but it is worth it.
(01:18:17):
Your sexuality, your identities,your desires.
These are not flaws to be fixed.They're not dangerous secrets to
be hidden. They're vital, powerful life
giving parts of you, and when you finally let them take their
place in your story, life stops being grayscale survival and
(01:18:41):
starts becoming something richer, fuller, more vibrant.
Thank you for listening, for holding space for this
conversation, and maybe for holding space for yourself in a
new way today. If this episode resonated with
you, I'd love for you to share it.
Leave a review or let me know what pieces stood out most.
(01:19:05):
And as always, keep unpacking, keep exploring, and keep showing
up as your whole unapologetic self.
Until next time. This has been shrink wrapped.
You have to open an old junk drawer and realize there's a
whole world in there you forgot existed.
A tangle of chargers for phones you don't own anymore, 3 pairs
of scissors and a mysterious keyyou're scared to throw away.
That's what unpacking repressed sexuality feels like.
(00:25):
Except instead of electronics and craft supplies, it's tangled
up desires, outdated shame, and parts of yourself you didn't
even know you'd shoved in the back.
Most of us weren't exactly raised in environments that
(00:46):
said, hey, your sexuality is a totally normal, evolving part of
who you are. Explore away.
Nope. Many of us got a crash course in
pretending it didn't exist, or that it only existed in one
acceptable shape. So it sat there, silent, dusty,
(01:13):
waiting for the day you'd be ready to crack it open.
Today we're talking about what happens when you finally do.
The awkwardness, the curiosity, the grief, and yes, the joy of
reclaiming a part of yourself you might have been told to
(01:36):
hide. Let's get into it.
Duality isn't just about being in a dry spell or going months
without swiping right. It's way more insidious than
that. It's when your sexual thoughts,
(01:59):
desires, or even the core of whoyou are get shoved so deep into
the basement of your psyche thaton the rare occasions they creep
back up, you barely recognize them as your own.
They feel alien, like they snuckin from someone else's
imagination, which only adds to the confusion.
(02:23):
And the kicker? That kind of deep freeze almost
never happens by accident. Most of the time, repression is
a survival skill you built without even realizing it.
Maybe you grew up in a house, a church, or a culture where your
sexual self wasn't just discouraged, but actively
(02:44):
branded as wrong, dangerous, or dirty.
In those spaces, hiding who you were wasn't just a suggestion,
it was a requirement. So you learned to tuck those
parts of yourself away, not because you didn't have them,
but because keeping them visiblecame with real risks.
(03:07):
Repression became armor, a way to dodge judgment, avoid
punishment, and protect yourselffrom being cast out or
ridiculed. And at first, that armor works.
It keeps you safe, keeps you fitting in, keeps you from
becoming a target. But here's the problem with
(03:29):
armor. It's heavy, it's rigid, and it
doesn't let anything in or out. Over time, what once felt like
protection morphs into a cage. The very thing that shielded you
from harm starts cutting you offfrom your own aliveness.
(03:54):
The longer you wear it, the easier it is to forget what's
underneath. You stop realizing there's a
vibrant, curious, desirous part of you waiting to breathe.
Instead, you get used to the numbness, the disconnection, the
quiet sense that something is missing, but you can't quite put
(04:15):
your finger on what. That's the cruelest part of
repression. It convinces you the absence is
natural, when really it's a piece of yourself you've been
taught to bury. Shame can make you shrink from
your own body like it's a house you don't feel welcome in,
(04:36):
tiptoeing around rooms you should be free to live in,
flinching at your own reflectionand treating your wants like
intruders that need to be silenced or exterminated.
It seeps into the way you dress,the way you touch yourself or
don't, the way you avoid being fully seen.
(04:57):
Shame whispers that your body issuspect, your desires are dirty
and your needs are a burden, andeventually you start believing
it. Fear twists the knife even
further. It turns curiosity, the most
natural human impulse, into a red flag.
(05:22):
Instead of leaning in, fear whispers that exploring will
only end in rejection, humiliation, or danger.
It tells you that questions are risky and that wanting more is
an invitation for things to go horribly wrong.
Fear convinces you that staying small is safer than stepping
(05:43):
into the unknown, even if staying small starves you in the
process. Then there's trauma, which
doesn't just leave a memory, it imprints itself directly onto
your nervous system. Trauma teaches your body that
being sexual isn't safe. The pleasure is always the
(06:06):
prelude to pain. The vulnerability will only be
punished. Your body remembers even when
your mind wants to forget. So you learn to lock the doors,
bolt the windows, and throw awaythe keys, because any form of
openness feels like courting danger.
(06:29):
And woven through it all is cultural conditioning, which is
so pervasive you often don't even notice it's there.
It's the wallpaper of your life,the background noise you've been
hearing since birth. It shows up in sitcoms that mock
fat bodies, queer crushes, or aging women as punch lines.
(06:54):
It's in classrooms where sex Ed was more about disease and
abstinence than about pleasure and consent.
It's in the subtle rules of goodpeople don't talk about that, or
real men don't do this, or nice girls don't want that.
It's the constant low grade hum reminding you what's normal,
(07:15):
what's acceptable, and what's possible, all before you've ever
had a chance to decide for yourself.
And by the time you're old enough to question it, the hum
is so familiar that science silence feels foreign and
anything outside the script feels wrong.
(07:37):
Over time, all those forces, shame, fear, trauma, Cultural
rules can train you to treat your own sexuality like that
nightmare roommate you'll do anything to avoid.
You know the type, the one who leaves passive aggressive notes
on the fridge and somehow alwaysmanages to be in the kitchen
(08:00):
when you need a glass of water. So you keep your interactions to
the bare minimum. You tiptoe around the shared
spaces, keep your head down and pretend they're not really
there, even though you know damnwell they are.
You don't look at them directly,you don't bring them into
important conversations, and youdefinitely don't let them
(08:23):
anywhere near the things that matter most in your life.
And here's the tricky part. For a while, that avoidance can
masquerade as peace. No awkward confrontations, no
shame spirals, no risk of being judged or rejected.
You convince yourself the silence is working, that not
(08:46):
talking about it, not acknowledging it, is keeping you
safe. But silence is never neutral.
It's like living with someone who never pays rent but still
controls the thermostat. You think you're in charge, but
really they're dictating the temperature of the whole house.
(09:09):
Then out of nowhere, something cracks the door open.
It could be a relationship whereyou finally feel safe enough to
let your guard down. A book, podcast, or even a
TikTok that hits you so hard youfeel exposed.
(09:33):
A therapy session where your ownwords betray you.
Or maybe just a random 2:00 AM thought that won't let you
sleep. And suddenly, there it is, your
sexuality, not gone, not erased,just waiting like it's been
(09:59):
sitting on the couch the whole time, watching you contort your
life around avoiding it. And the most shocking part?
You realize it's been shaping you from the shadows all along,
influencing the way you connect,the way you love, the way you
see yourself. It's been pulling strings behind
(10:23):
the scenes, guiding who you feltdrawn to, what you feared, what
you avoided, sometimes in ways you didn't even recognize.
It wasn't gone. It was just bidding its time,
patient as hell, waiting for theday you were ready to let it
(10:43):
back into the room. Repressed sexuality isn't no
one's texting me back. It's more like you boxed up your
sexual self, labeled it do not open, and shoved it behind the
holiday decorations so well thatyou forget it's there until the
(11:06):
pipes start rattling and you realize the box is basically
haunting the house. And you didn't do that because
you're dramatic, you did it because at some point it felt
safer. Years of shame, fear, trauma,
and cultures Pearl clutching cantrain your nervous system to
(11:27):
treat desire like a live wire. If you were raised where sex was
a moral report card, or every convo about it came with a
warning label and the threat of ruining your life, your body
learns lock it down. If something happened, sexual or
not, that fused arousal with danger, your body learns lock it
(11:51):
down. If you got squeezed into rigid
gender scripts or heteronormative,
heteronormative, excuse me, templates that didn't fit, your
body learns lock it down. That's not apathy, that's
strategy. The weird part is how effective
(12:13):
the strategy can be until it isn't You.
You can function like this for years, Perform what's expected,
keep things fine, joke about being low libido or not that
kind of person. Meanwhile the boxed up parts
leak through the scenes. Maybe you overthink every
(12:36):
intimate moment, feel a wave of guilt after pleasure, or avoid
situations that might spark desire because you don't trust
what comes next. Maybe your fantasies show up out
of nowhere and freak you out notbecause they're wrong, but
because they're unfamiliar. Maybe relationships feel
(12:58):
curiously flat or confusing, like you're showing up with
heart and brain but the lights are off in the downstairs
department. When that survival tactic sticks
around past its expiration date,it doesn't just mute your sex
(13:19):
life, it mutes you. It's like putting duct tape over
an entire part of your identity,and I'm wondering why everything
else feels muffled. Boundaries start to blur,
because how can you know what you do want if you've trained
yourself to never want at all? Consent gets scrambled too, not
(13:43):
because you don't care, but because it's hard to give a
clear yes or no when you can't even access the internal compass
that's supposed to guide you. And confidence that slowly
erodes because it's impossible to feel fully grounded when an
entire piece of you is locked away in exile, treated like it's
(14:06):
dangerous or shameful instead ofsimply human.
Now, reconnection isn't about going from zero to 100
overnight. It's not the makeover montage
where you RIP off your glasses, toss your hair, and suddenly
emerge as the sexy version of yourself.
(14:28):
It's subtler, slower, and so much more real.
It's about learning your own language again, letting
curiosity show up without panic,letting desire breathe without
putting it on trial. Letting pleasure exist without
(14:49):
charging it an emotional shame tax.
Step by step, you reintroduce yourself to parts you thought
you'd lost, until what felt foreign starts to feel natural.
And that's the real glow up. Not turning yourself into some
(15:09):
performative stereotype of what sexy is supposed to look like,
but reclaiming the locked room in your own house, the part you
were told to avoid or to fear, and turning the lights back on.
Integration isn't flashy, but it's powerful.
(15:33):
It's the difference between living in 1/2 furnished
apartment and finally moving into the whole damn house that
was yours all along. Repression isn't usually some
dramatic blood oath to never feel horny again.
It's sneakier, more passive kindof thing your brain does on the
(15:57):
sly. It's like one day without your
input, it installs A parental control filter on your sexuality
set. It sets it to strict, and then
promptly loses the password. A lot of the time this update
happens when you're still a kid or teen.
(16:20):
Maybe you learned the hard way through outright rejection, a
scolding that burned into your memory, or the looming threat of
being judged, shunned, or punished, that any flicker of
sexual curiosity was dangerous. And so, without consciously
deciding, you start shutting that part of yourself down.
(16:46):
In the beginning, It's adaptive.It protects you from ridicule,
judgment, or worse. But what starts as a safety
measure slowly hardens into a reflex.
Over the years. The off switch flips
automatically, even in situations where you're safe,
(17:09):
supported, and free to explore. The tricky part?
Repression doesn't actually delete your sexuality, it just
buries it like a perfectly preserved time capsule under 6
feet of Nope and times have time.
Capsules don't just vanish, theywait building pressure until
(17:35):
something cracks. When repression starts to leak,
it doesn't come out in cinematicways.
No dramatic confession scene with swelling violins in the
background. It's messier, settler, and
honestly a little disorienting sometimes.
(17:58):
It's the sudden wave of shame that hits you right after a
sexual experience you were genuinely enjoying a moment ago,
Like your brain has its own internal referee throwing
penalty flags long after the play is over.
Other times it's ducking out of conversations the second they
get even remotely flirty, laughing it off, changing the
(18:22):
subject, or suddenly needing to go check on something even
though deep down part of you wishes you could stay and lean
into the banter. Then there are the rogue
fantasies, the ones that show uplike pop up ads in your brain,
(18:43):
uninvited and jarring. They can leave you shaken, not
because there's anything inherently wrong with them, but
because they remind you that there's a whole landscape of
desire in you that you've been taught not to look at.
And perhaps the most painful version, that madding sense of
(19:07):
disconnection in intimacy. Wanting to connect physically,
emotionally, sexually, but feeling like you're pressing up
against an invisible pane of glass.
You can see what you want on theother side, maybe even touch it,
(19:27):
but you can't fully access it. That's the cruel trick of
repression. It often begins as self
protection, a way to keep yourself safe in environments
where being open about your sexuality would have come at too
high a cost. But if it goes on too long, it
doesn't just protect you, it erases you.
(19:51):
Slowly, piece by piece, you start to lose access to your own
wants, your own signals, your own sense of aliveness.
And that quiet erosion can be harder to notice than outright
pain because it doesn't explode,it just numbs until you realize
(20:18):
you've been living half a life. Unpacking repressed sexuality
almost never begins with a tidy road map or a five step plan to
self discovery. More often, it's triggered by
something that rattles the snow globe of your inner world and
(20:38):
forces you to notice all the pieces you've been pretending
weren't there. And sometimes that trigger comes
out of nowhere. A book, a podcast, a TikTok, a
throwaway line and a show that lands in your lap at just the
right or wrong moment. And suddenly you don't just feel
(21:00):
intrigued, you feel seen. Not the casual, oh that's
relatable kind of scene, but thegut punched, breath stolen.
Holy shit, this is me kind of recognition.
Recognition that makes your whole body light up with truth.
(21:24):
It's the kind of moment that shakes you out of autopilot, The
realization that maybe you're not broken, defective, or too
different to fit in. Maybe the problem isn't you at
all. It's the outdated, poorly
written rulebook you've been living under. 1 drafted by
(21:46):
people who never actually considered Someone Like You.
The handbook told you how you should feel, who you should
want, what shape your love and desire should take, and for
years you tried to follow it, erasing pieces of yourself in
the process. But in that lightning bolt
(22:09):
moment of recognition, it clicks.
The rule book was never written for you, and you don't actually
have to keep playing by it. Other times, the spark isn't a
lightning bolt realization, it'srelational.
You find yourself in a connection that doesn't play by
(22:33):
the old rules, one that feels steady and safe from the start.
Maybe it's romantic, maybe it's platonic, maybe it's deliciously
somewhere in between. But the important part is this.
Safety isn't something you have to hustle for.
(22:55):
Earn or bargain your way into it's baked in a given, and in
that kind of environment, your armor starts to loosen without
you even noticing. Jokes land differently, intimacy
(23:16):
doesn't feel like a trapdoor, and curiosity stops setting off
alarms in your body. You realize that maybe, just
maybe, you can show up as your whole self without bracing for
punishment. Or maybe it's not another person
(23:37):
at all. Maybe it's therapy, where you're
sitting across from someone trained to hear what you're not
saying. You're halfway through a session
when your own words catch you off guard, like you've been
circling the subject of sexuality without ever naming
it. You notice how often you dodge
(24:00):
those topics, how quickly you changed lanes the moment the
road starts looking sexual, likeyou're swerving around potholes.
You know by heart. And that's the moment the
unraveling begins. You ask yourself why.
Why the avoidance? Why the discomfort?
(24:24):
And once you start tugging on that thread, you realize it's
connected to a whole web of beliefs, beers, and silences
that have been quietly shaping you all along.
And sometimes it's not poetic atall.
(24:45):
It's raw, blunt, and honestly kind of fed up.
You hit a wall with your own dissatisfaction.
Life has been fine. Not catastrophic, not terrible,
just a flat numbing fine for so long that it starts to feel
(25:08):
unbearable. That blandness, that low grade
disconnection, becomes its own kind of crisis, and in that
space, curiosity stops looking like a threat and starts looking
(25:30):
like oxygen. You realize you'd rather risk
shaking things up then keep trudging through the Gray haze
of vine, so you start following the thread of that curiosity.
Not recklessly, not without fear.
(25:53):
The fear is still there, hummingin the background, but with this
gnawing sense that staying numb might actually cost you more in
the long run than whatever awkwardness, mistakes, or
revelations come with waking yourself up.
(26:14):
And however your journey begins,it's never clean.
There's always a mix of exhilaration and panic, the
thrill of discovery braided withthe dread of stepping into the
unknown, that oh God, what am I doing voice shows up right
alongside the Holy Shit I'm Alive 1.
(26:38):
And as uncomfortable as that tension feels, it's actually the
sweet spot, that space where terror and thrill coexist that's
the edge of growth. It means you're no longer
anesthetized by repression. You're alive in the messy
(27:01):
electric process of becoming, unpacking repressed.
Sexuality isn't the kind of blowup you can knock out in a tidy 2
minute Hollywood montage. It's not one cathartic cry in
the shower of power. Excuse me, A power ballad
(27:22):
blasting in the background and then suddenly you're strutting
through life in slow motion withperfect hair and unshakeable
confidence. No, it's a long haul excavation
project. More like peeling wallpaper in
100 year old house. Layers upon layers, Some
(27:44):
crumbling easily, others glued on like they were designed by
Satan himself. It's dusty, it's messy, and half
the time you're staring at the walls thinking, maybe I should
have just left this shit alone. But here's the kicker.
(28:05):
Every time you think you've got it, every time you peel back a
layer and breathe a sigh of relief, there's another one
underneath, stickier and more stubborn than the last.
And each layer comes stamped with its own outdated warning
(28:26):
labels. Don't go there.
That's dangerous. People will leave you.
You're wrong. At one point in your life, those
labels kept you safe. They made sense in the
environment you grew up in. But now they're just clutter,
(28:46):
ghost rules that haunt your wiring and make you second guess
truths that are actually yours to claim.
The work, then, isn't about bulldozing the whole house or
pretending those labels never existed.
It's about methodically peeling them back, examining them,
(29:08):
deciding whether they still serve you, and slowly making
space for your real, unfiltered self underneath.
It's painstaking, it's unglamorous, and it's definitely
not linear. But it's also where the real
transformation happens. It begins with awareness, and
(29:34):
let me tell you, it is not glamorous, not an epiphany with
Angel choir singing. It's more like realizing that
you've been walking around with a rock in your shoe for years
and just decided to keep limpinginstead of taking it out.
Awareness is that moment when you finally admit to yourself,
(29:59):
yeah, I've been shutting this part of me down, and whether I
meant to or not, it's been steering my life in ways I never
signed up for. It's uncomfortable, it's
humbling, and it's often the first time you stop pretending
(30:19):
you don't notice the pattern. Then comes permission.
And honestly, this is where mostpeople get stuck.
Giving yourself the green light to actually explore is
terrifying because it means going against all those
internalized warning labels. It's saying I'm allowed to feel
(30:44):
curiosity. I'm allowed to want things.
I don't have to justify or defend this to anyone, including
the imaginary jury in my head. Demanding A-37 slide PowerPoint
with citations permission is scary because it feels like
breaking rules you didn't even know you agreed to, but it's
(31:07):
also the single most freeing step you'll take.
Only after you do that is when you arrive at exploration.
And here's the secret. Exploration doesn't have to look
like cannonballing into the deepend.
(31:28):
It's not repressed yesterday, leather harness tomorrow.
Exploration can be subtle, quiet, and low stakes.
It can be letting your fantasiesbreathe instead of shoving them
back into the junk drawer labeled Do not open.
(31:50):
It can be reading erotica or queer romance without shame,
scrolling past it like you've accidentally stumbled onto a
crime scene. It can be having one honest
conversation with a trusted friend or partner about what
you're curious about instead of swallowing the words whole.
(32:12):
Or it can be experimenting physically, in ways that feel
safe and measured, not performative and pressured.
Every single one of those steps is an act of rebellion against
the programming that told you don't go there.
They're small, yes, but they're also radical, tiny cracks in the
(32:35):
old foundation that eventually let the whole structure
collapse, making room for something truer.
If you keep going, you eventually reach integration,
the place where your sexual selfstops being that side character
(32:56):
you only trot out on special occasions, like a guest star in
your own life. Instead, it becomes part of the
main cast, seamlessly woven intowho you are day-to-day.
It's not a mask you slip on in certain contexts, or a secret
you keep locked in the attic. It's just you showing up fully.
(33:24):
And the wild part? Once it's integrated, it doesn't
feel like this massive, shockingthing anymore.
It feels ordinary, natural, unremarkable in the best
possible way. That old locked box in your
(33:48):
psyche, the one stamped with Do not TOUCH in big red letters,
doesn't just get pried open, it disappears altogether.
What replaces it isn't performative sexiness or some
hyper polished new identity. It's a deep, steady sense of
(34:08):
wholeness. You're no longer slicing
yourself into pieces or rationing out safe, palatable
versions of who you are. You stop editing yourself mid
sentence. Stop bracing for judgement
before you even speak. Stop carrying the disclaimer.
But don't worry, I'm normal. Integration means you get to
(34:31):
take up your full space without apology.
And here's the kicker. That wholeness doesn't just
shift your relationship to sex. It shifts everything.
Confidence feels less like a costume and more like your
(34:52):
natural posture. Relationships get richer because
you're not hiding half the map from the people trying to love
you. Even the way you experience joy,
creativity, and connection expands because when one part of
you comes home, the rest of you breathes easier, too.
(35:15):
Integration isn't the flashy finale.
It's the quiet revolution where you finally get to live as
yourself, completely without footnotes.
When you start unpacking repressed sexuality.
It's not all candlelight, silk sheets and perfectly perfectly
(35:38):
curated self love playlists. It's more like a road trip where
the map is smudged, the GPS say keeps saying recalculating, and
there are a few unavoidable potholes along the way.
First up, the shame hangover. This one's sneaky.
(36:00):
You could be feeling great in the moment, turned on, curious,
empowered, and then hours or even days later, those crusty
old beliefs you thought you'd outgrown creep back in.
(36:21):
It's like an uninvited ex who somehow still knows your Netflix
password. They barge in, criticize your
choices, and make you wonder if you've made a huge mistake.
This doesn't mean you're failing, It means your brain's
still running on some outdated programming and you're in the
middle of updating the software.Then there's the overcorrection
(36:46):
phase, which can feel like goingfrom a barren wasteland to an
over watered swamp overnight. One minute you're cautiously
dipping a toe into sexual exploration and the next you're
sprinting head first into everything, saying yes to
people, experiences or dynamics without stopping to ask yourself
(37:10):
if they actually feel good or align with your values.
It's not uncommon. After years of scarcity,
abundance can feel intoxicating,but unchecked, it can lead you
into situations that don't actually support your healing.
(37:32):
And finally, there's external pushback.
Because the second you start shifting your relationship with
your sexuality, trust me, somebody out there is going to
notice. And not everyone is going to
respond with balloons and a supportive banner.
Some people will get uncomfortable not because you're
(37:54):
doing anything wrong, but because your change shines a
light on their own unexamined beliefs.
Others will outright judge, tossing side eyes or backhanded
comments meant to shrink you back down.
And then there are the ones who won't even bother being subtle.
They'll try to guilt, shame, or flat out pressure you back into
(38:17):
the neat little box you used to live in because your repression
made them comfortable. That's where boundaries stop
being optional and start being essential.
Not the flimsy kind you whisper with a question mark at the end,
but the firm, unapologetic kind that draw a bright neon line.
(38:39):
This is my lane, my timeline, mybody, my rules.
Boundaries are what keep your progress from being hijacked by
someone else's discomfort. They're how you protect the
fragile, tender beginnings of your growth from being trampled
by people who either don't get it or don't want you to get
(39:03):
free. Because here's the truth.
You don't need a permission slipfrom anyone to live fully in
your own skin. Especially not from the very
voices that taught you to repress yourself in the 1st
place. If anything, their disapproval
(39:24):
is proof that you're stepping out of the script they handed
you. Which is exactly the point.
Growth doesn't always look like applause.
It often looks like holding yourground while others wrestle with
their own unease. And in those moments, your
(39:45):
boundaries are both shield and sword, protecting what's sacred
while declaring without apology that you're done living small
when you start drawing lines around your sexuality.
Boundaries don't always need to be dramatic speeches.
They can be short, firm statements that redirect the
(40:06):
conversation without leaving room for debate.
So here's a few ways they might sound in real life.
If someone tries to minimize or dismiss your identity, you could
say something like I'm not asking you to understand this,
I'm asking you to respect it. If a friend or family member
(40:27):
pushes you back toward heteronormative expectations,
something like So when are you settling down with a nice guy or
girl? You could say something like
that. Assume that assumption doesn't
fit me and I need you to stop making it.
If someone guilt trips you for changing, you could say
(40:47):
something like I know this is different from what you're used
to, but my growth isn't up for negotiation.
If someone says something, let excuse me.
If you're not ready to share details but want the topic
closed, you could say something like that's personal and I'm not
(41:08):
discussing it with you, please drop it.
If someone straight up mocks or shames you, you could say this
isn't funny to me. If you can't speak respectfully,
I won't continue this conversation.
Or ever a classic. You could ask them to explain
the joke. If they if they think they're
(41:33):
making a joke, ask them to explain the joke.
That's always a good move, because they frequently can't
explain it. The beauty of boundaries is that
they don't have to be long explanations.
Actually, the shorter and clearer, the better.
They're not an opening for the bait, They're a period at the
(41:56):
end of the sentence. And the more unapologetically
you practice saying them, the more natural it feels to defend
the ground you've reclaimed. When you stop shoving your
sexuality into the dusty, overstuffed we don't talk about
that drawer and actually let it take up space in your identity,
(42:20):
the whole foundation of your life starts to feel sturdier.
It's like moving from balancing on a flimsy stage set where
everything looks fine from the outside but wobbles the second
you put weight on it, to finallystanding on bedrock.
There's a groundedness that wasn't there before, because
(42:42):
you're not performing wholeness anymore, you're living it.
Your confidence shifts too. It stops being this rehearsed
act. You wheel out for other people's
approval and become something that hums quietly inside you,
rooted in the fact that you actually know yourself.
(43:05):
And not just the shiny, curated parts, the messy, tender,
complicated parts as well. You know what turns you on and
what turns you off. You know what's worth
experimenting with and what's a hard no.
You know where your boundaries are, not because someone else
(43:26):
drew them, but because you've walked around inside yourself
enough times to map them out. That kind of clarity radiates.
People feel it, even if they can't articulate why.
It shows up in the way you move through relationships, the way
(43:46):
you speak your needs without flinching, the way you don't
crumble when someone pushes back.
It's the difference between showing up like a carefully
staged version of yourself and showing up like the real deal.
Unedited, unapologetic, solid. And once you felt that shift,
(44:11):
going back to hiding whole partsof yourself isn't an option
anymore. Your relationships begin to
transform in ways you don't always see coming.
When you stop hiding an entire wing of yourself, it's like
unlocking doors you didn't realize were bolted shut.
(44:31):
Suddenly, connections you form feel less like you're following
a tired script and more like you're improvising in real time
with honesty, vulnerability, anda lot less fear of saying the
wrong thing. Instead of mentally editing mid
sentence, snipping off the edgesof your truth so you don't
(44:53):
reveal too much, you can actually stay present in the
conversation, in the moment, in your body.
That kind of presence is rare, and people can feel it.
And here's the best part. Authenticity is magnetic.
Not the curated Instagram filterkind of authenticity, but the
(45:17):
real deal where you're not performing to impress, you're
not auditioning for approval, you're not holding your breath
waiting to see if who you are will be too much.
You're just you, uncensored and unshrinking.
(45:40):
That energy draws people in. It deepens intimacy, strengthens
trust, and even changes the caliber of relationships you
attract. Instead of connections built on
performance or compliance, you start building ones rooted in
(46:01):
truth. And the ones that can't handle
the truth, They tend to fall away, which hurts at first, but
ultimately makes space for the people who are always meant to
meet the whole version of you. In romantic relationships,
integration means you're no longer playing a part to fit
(46:23):
someone else's fantasy. You're not pretending to be
simpler or straighter or less complicated than you are.
You're showing up as the full Technicolor version of yourself.
That honesty not only deepens intimacy but also helps weed out
partners who can't actually meetyou where you are.
(46:46):
Instead of trying to earn love by shrinking, you attract people
who fall for you precisely because you're expansive.
In platonic friendships, the shift is just as powerful.
You're not tiptoeing around topics, dodging certain
confessions, or biting your tongue when a piece of your
truth slips out. You can share your crushes, your
(47:09):
desires, your stories without fear of judgment.
And when your friends get to seethe real you, it opens the door
for them to bring more of themselves forward to.
Authenticity has a way of givingothers permission to be
authentic right back. It's contagious in the best way.
(47:32):
Now, in family dynamics, this integration can be trickier
because families often carry thedeepest layers of expectation
and conditioning. Some relatives may resist or
push back when the role you usedto play doesn't fit anymore.
But living in alignment with your whole self creates new
(47:54):
boundaries, new patterns, and sometimes, even if it's slow, a
ripple effect of honesty in the family system.
Even if not everyone claps for your freedom, your courage
models a different way of being.And that matters.
And in professional settings, itdoesn't mean you're suddenly
(48:15):
narrating your sex life at the water cooler.
But it does mean you're done compartmentalizing to the point
of invisibility. Confidence rooted in wholeness
shows up in your work. You advocate more clearly,
collaborate more authentically, and stop over apologizing for
(48:37):
taking up space. Colleagues might not know why
you seem different, but they feel it.
They feel that steadiness, that clarity, that spark when you
stop rationing parts of yourself.
Every relationship, romantic, platonic, familial, professional
(49:00):
shifts. Some will deepen, some will fall
away, and some will be born anew.
But the ones that last, they'll be built on something far better
than performance. They'll be built on truth.
Then there's bodily autonomy, and I'm not just talking about
(49:24):
the surface level. My body, My choice bumper
sticker version, though? Yes, absolutely that too.
I mean the deeper kind where your decisions about your body
finally come from a place untangled from guilt, shame,
fear, or a sense of owing something to someone else.
(49:46):
It's the shift from making choices because you should or
because you're trying to keep the peace, to making them
because they actually align withyour own desire, comfort, and
values. When that happens, pleasure
stops being this guilty little side hustle you sneak in or feel
(50:07):
like you have to justify. It's no longer a bargaining chip
you trade for love, attention, or safety.
Instead, pleasure becomes yours to define and pursue in whatever
feels authentic, whether that's through love, sex, touch,
movement, creativity, or any other form of embodied joy.
(50:31):
You start to recognize that yourbody isn't a problem to be
managed or a commodity to be negotiated, but a home you're
allowed to enjoy. It's a full on reclamation.
Your skin, your sensations, yourboundaries, your choices.
(50:53):
They all belong to you again. And that reclamation is powerful
because it shifts the narrative from what do other people want
from me to what do I actually want for myself.
That's when autonomy stops beingjust a concept and starts being
(51:17):
a lived reality. You as the authority, the
gatekeeper, and the celebrant ofyour own body.
When you reclaim bodily autonomy, it doesn't just shift
how you feel in your own skin, it completely reshapes how you
experience intimacy. Suddenly, sex isn't something
(51:41):
you perform for someone else's approval or affection.
It's something you choose because you want it, because it
feels good, because it nourishesyou.
That shift alone is seismic. Think about how often people,
(52:02):
especially those raised with repression, learn to approach
intimacy as a kind of transaction.
If I do this, they'll love me. If I don't, they'll leave.
If I agree, I'll avoid conflict.That's not desire, that's
(52:27):
survival. And when survival scripts are
running the show, intimacy oftenfeels more like acting out a
role than actually connecting. But when autonomy is restored,
the whole script flits. You start checking in with
(52:48):
yourself first. Do I want this?
Do I feel safe here? Does this spark curiosity, joy,
or connection? And when the answer is yes, the
cure, the excuse me. When the answer is yes, the
experience feels radically different.
(53:08):
There's no resentment simmering under the surface, no disconnect
that makes you feel like you're watching yourself from outside
your body instead, your present.Grounded, able to receive and
give pleasure without that shametax attached.
(53:29):
And here's the kicker. This doesn't just elevate sex,
it deepens emotional intimacy too.
Because when your yes is real, your no is real.
And your partner or partners know they can trust both.
(53:50):
That kind of honesty builds a foundation where closeness
doesn't feel like pressure. It feels like freedom.
Autonomy, paradoxically, is whatmakes true intimacy possible.
Because you're no longer relating out of fear or
(54:11):
obligation. You're relating out of choice.
And maybe the sweetest payoff? Life itself gets louder,
brighter, and a hell of a lot more delicious when you're not
locking a whole part of yourselfin the attic.
(54:31):
You stop living like you're rationing emotions during a
blackout. Suddenly you're not on half
portions of joy, half portions of desire, half portions of
connection. You're feasting on the whole
spread, and the wild part is it doesn't just show up in the
bedroom. Desire has this sneaky way of
(54:56):
spilling over into everything else.
Once you stop shoving it down, you start noticing it in your
creativity. Ideas feel juicier.
Projects feel more alive. Your voice gets bolder.
It shows up in ambition. You feel less like you're
(55:17):
dragging yourself through obligations and more like you're
chasing things that actually light you up.
It shows up in joy. You laugh louder.
You savor more. You stop apologizing for wanting
things just because they delightyou.
And it shows up in connection. You relate to people with more
(55:38):
warmth, more presence, more spark, because you're no longer
editing out the parts of you that make you feel most alive.
It's like living in grayscale for years and suddenly switching
to full Technicolor. The contrast is undeniable.
(56:00):
Before, you were just existing, moving through the motions like
a background character in your own life.
After you're actually living. Messy, vibrant, fully embodied
living. And once you've had a taste of
that, going back to muted survival mode isn't even an
(56:25):
option. The thing is, this isn't just
theory or something I've read ina psych textbook.
It's another area where I've gotskin in the game.
Remember way back in the very first episode when I said I've
(56:46):
lived a life? Yeah, Well, this is one of those
chapters. Today you get to hear another
piece of it, one of those messy,complicated, deeply human parts
of my own story that shaped how I see myself, how I connect with
(57:07):
others, and why I even talk about this stuff in the 1st
place. It's not always comfortable to
share, but that's kind of the point.
Unpacking repressed sexuality ispersonal, it's raw, and for me,
it's lived. So you're not just getting the
(57:29):
research or the metaphors today,you're getting me unfiltered.
Growing up, sexuality wasn't just absent from the
conversation. It was practically quarantined,
sealed off behind metaphorical caution tape like it was
(57:51):
radioactive material nobody dared touch.
It wasn't discussed in any way, shape or form.
Not in school, not at home, not even in throwaway birds and bees
way that at least gives you a starting point.
It was treated like a forbidden subject that would set off
(58:13):
alarms if you Even so much as brushed against it.
And underneath that silence was a thick, unspoken subtext.
The only acceptable way to existwas straight, period, Full stop.
(58:34):
End of story. Anything that fell outside that
razor thin lane wasn't just discouraged, it was erased
altogether, made invisible. The possibility of queerness
wasn't even acknowledged as a three theoretical option.
And when something doesn't get words, doesn't get modeled,
(58:58):
doesn't get named, it's like it doesn't exist at all.
That erasure creates confusion across the board.
Even kids who are straight end up fumbling around in the dark,
piercing together scraps of misinformation, pop culture
cliches, and whispered rumors just to make sense of their own
(59:19):
desires. But when you're not straight,
that confusion multiplies. By 1000, you're left trying to
navigate feelings you don't havea map for, feelings that don't
fit the script, that don't show up in examples you've been
(59:40):
given. And without language, without
validation, you start to wonder if you're broken, if what you're
feeling is wrong, and if you're the only one in the world
feeling it. That silence doesn't just leave
(01:00:03):
you uninformed, it leaves you isolated.
As a kid, you don't have the language for that kind of
erasure. You don't have the cultural
references, the definitions, or even the reassurance that what
you're feeling exists outside your own head.
(01:00:26):
All you know is there are these feelings bubbling up inside you.
Moments of attraction, sparks ofcuriosity, gut level instincts
that don't line up with the script you've been handed.
And because no one ever names them for you, you can't name
(01:00:50):
them for yourself. Looking back now, with the
hindsight of experience and a much broader understanding of
sexuality, I can see the signs were practically waving flags
the whole time. The crushes I didn't even
realize were crushes. The way I gravitated towards
(01:01:13):
certain characters on TV or certain friendships that held an
extra layer of intensity. The questions I asked myself
late at night that I couldn't quite put words to.
The gut feelings that didn't fitthe acceptable narrative but
kept surfacing anyway. All the bread crumbs were there,
I just didn't know I was supposed to follow them.
(01:01:36):
At the time, though, there was no framework, no road map, no
one saying hey, this is normal, this, this might mean something.
So I did the only thing I thought was possible.
I stuffed it down. I shoved those feelings into the
mental junk drawer, slammed it shut and convinced myself I was
(01:02:00):
confused, broken, or maybe just imagining the whole thing.
That silence turned into self doubt, and that self doubt
hardened into repression. And the wild part is I didn't
even realize that's what was happening until years later.
(01:02:21):
For so long it wasn't I'm repressing myself, it was just
this is this is how it is it. It took years to understand that
the silence around me had trained me to silence myself.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment the shift happened in my
(01:02:42):
consciousness, the moment I realized I didn't only like
Boys. There wasn't some cinematic
lightning bolt, no aha moment where everything suddenly
clicked into place. It was slower, quieter, more
(01:03:02):
like a steady drip that eventually filled the bucket
over time. I just began to notice that my
attractions didn't fit neatly into the hetero only box I'd
been crammed into as a kid. It wasn't teenage rebellion or
some secret high school romance that clued me in.
(01:03:25):
Honestly, I think I was too busysurviving and too conditioned to
filter out anything that didn't fit the script.
It wasn't until I was a full on adult with bills,
responsibilities and a few emotional scars under my belt
that I had the space and self-awareness to name it.
What finally sank in was this. I didn't just like boys, I was
(01:03:53):
also attracted to girls sexually, romantically, in all
the messy human ways. And instead of it feeling like
some earth shattering revelation, it came as an
acceptance, like sliding into a truth that had been waiting for
me all along. It wasn't fireworks, it was
(01:04:19):
finally exhaling. First came the label of
bisexual, because that was the only language I had at the time,
the neat little definition I'd absorb somewhere along the way
that basically translated to Youlike boys and You like girls.
(01:04:40):
It felt like the best fitting option with the vocabulary I had
back then, even if it didn't capture the full scope of my
experience at that stage. It wasn't about nuance or
identity politics or the infinite spectrum of attraction.
It was about finally having a word, any word, that made me
(01:05:03):
feel less like I was wandering around nameless.
Slapping that label on myself felt equal parts relief and
rebellion. Relief because I wasn't crazy
for feeling what I felt, and rebellion because saying it out
loud was my way of pushing back against every silent, straight
(01:05:25):
only script I'd grown up with. And then, because language and
life are constantly evolving, and because the Internet is
occasionally good for something other than memes and doom
scrolling, I stumbled across theterm pansexual.
And suddenly everything clicked into place in a way that
(01:05:48):
bisexual never had. It was like finding the missing
puzzle piece that had been hiding under the couch the whole
time. Because here's the thing, I've
always known it wasn't about thepackaging for me.
The connection, the energy, the person.
That's what mattered. I joke that I'm never going to
(01:06:11):
reach into someone's pants and come away disappointed because
whatever is there isn't the dealbreaker.
As our beloved David Rose put itso perfectly on Schitt's Creek.
I like the wine, not the label. That one line gave me the kind
of clarity years of silence, shame and confusion never could.
(01:06:37):
Pansexuality gave me language that felt like home, not like a
compromise. It reminded me that who I am has
always been valid, even when I didn't have the words for it
yet. Looking back, there were signs
(01:06:58):
all along. Good Lord, there were so many
neon blinking, flashing, practically screaming signs that
I was not a straight girly. Like hindsight me wants to grab
teenage me by the shoulders and say babe, the call is coming
(01:07:20):
from inside the house. I wasn't just casually invested
in the femme characters on TV shows and movies.
I was fully entranced. My favorite character list was
basically just a catalog of women I couldn't take my eyes
off of. And don't even get me started on
(01:07:43):
how suspiciously intense some ofmy friendships were.
Spoiler alert, if you're daydreaming about your best
friend like it's a ROM com plot line, you're not just really
close. And that retrospective audit of
my attractions actually brought me to another layer of my
(01:08:05):
sexuality that I've unpacked over time.
Dummy sexuality. Because for me, attraction
doesn't just happen on site. It's not a simple oh they're hot
and boom I'm in. It takes connection, trust and
(01:08:29):
that emotional spark for the sexual attraction to kick in.
At the time, I thought that meant I was picky or slow to
catch on, but in reality it was just another piece of my
orientation puzzle. Once I learned the word
(01:08:50):
demisexual, it was like, oh, that's why I didn't line up with
the scripts I saw in teen movieswhere everyone was immediately
drooling over the hottest personin the room.
It wasn't disinterest or repression, it was wiring.
(01:09:14):
And realizing that helped me stop questioning what was wrong
with me and start embracing the way I'm actually built.
For me, realizing I was demisexual was like someone
finally handing me the Rosetta Stone to my own love life.
(01:09:35):
Because here's the thing. Attraction isn't just one
monolithic experience. It's layered.
There's aesthetic attraction, where you can recognize that
someone looks good, has killer style, or a smile that could
stop traffic. Then there's romantic
attraction, that little flutter that makes you want to hold
(01:09:57):
someone's hand, write them notes, or imagine being with
them in that sweet, tender way. And then there's sexual
attraction, which is the oh hello there feeling that tends
to get the most air time in our culture for demisexual folks
(01:10:18):
like me. That last part, the sexual
attraction, it doesn't really switch on without an emotional
connection in place. It's not that I can't recognize
that someone is objectively attractive, it's just that for
me, the spark doesn't translate into actual desire unless
(01:10:42):
there's trust, safety, and connection woven in.
I used to think this meant I waslate to the game, or that I was
somehow defective because I didn't have the immediate
lightning strike horniness that everyone on TV and then high
school locker room seemed to talk about.
But once I understood demisexuality, it reframed
(01:11:07):
everything. I wasn't broken, it was just
wired differently. And honestly, it explains so
much of my past. Why I crushed so hard on close
friends but never really cared about random celebrity
obsessions. Why I could admire someone's
looks but not want them in the way other people did.
(01:11:32):
Why attraction for me has alwaysfelt like it grows from the
inside out rather than the outside in.
Learning that language gave me permission to stop comparing
myself to a script that was never written for me in the 1st
place. And The thing is, once I stopped
(01:11:53):
fighting myself and actually accepted all those little
facets, the repressed, tucked away, half ignored pieces of my
sexuality, I found myself becoming so much more grounded
as a human being. It wasn't like flipping a switch
(01:12:14):
or suddenly reinventing my wholeidentity.
It was subtler than that, but also way more profound.
It was like finally exhaling after holding my breath for
years without realizing it. It's not in my nature to be the
one marching down Main St. decked out head to toe in
rainbow glitter, though truly, Ilove that journey for everyone
(01:12:38):
who lives it. Loud.
My version of authenticity doesn't look like megaphones and
parade floats. It looks like a quiet
steadiness, like finally feelingat home in my own skin.
What shifted for me wasn't aboutbecoming someone different, it
(01:13:01):
was about becoming more me. Before, repressing those parts
of myself made me feel constantly restless, like there
were bees buzzing under my skin that I couldn't swat away.
My body felt off, like my jointswere just slightly misaligned,
(01:13:25):
like I was always walking arounda little crooked.
After acceptance, that tension eased.
The buzzing quieted. The pieces that once felt jagged
started to click into place. I didn't need to become louder,
I just needed to become whole. And that wholeness felt less
(01:13:49):
like an explosion and more like alignment, like the universe
snapping a puzzle piece into where it always belonged.
And that's really the heart of it.
Accepting those repressed parts of my sexuality didn't turn me
into someone new. It anchored me more deeply into
(01:14:13):
myself. For me, it wasn't about waving a
flag the size of a bed sheet or shouting my identity from the
rooftops, though I'll always cheer for anyone who does.
My version of liberation looked quieter, more internal.
(01:14:34):
It was about finally feeling steady in my own body, less like
I was buzzing with bees under myskin, less like my bones didn't
quite fit together. Because here's the thing.
Repression takes pieces of you and locks them away, but
(01:14:54):
integration gives them back. It's not about becoming someone
else. It's about reclaiming the
wholeness that was always there.And when you let those pieces
come home, when you stop shovingthem into the attic and
pretending they don't exist, youget to live with a kind of
(01:15:14):
alignment that feels unshakable.So whether your journey looks
loud and colorful or quiet and deeply personal, the point is
the same. Your sexuality, your identity,
your desires are not liabilities.
(01:15:36):
They are the blueprint of who you are.
And the more you embrace them, the more grounded, connected,
and alive you get to feel. That's the payoff of unpacking
repression. Not perfection, not a Hollywood
montage ending, but the steady, everyday miracle of finally
(01:16:01):
being whole. So as we wrap up today's
episode, I want to leave you with this Unpacking.
Repressed sexuality isn't about suddenly reinventing yourself or
becoming some hyper polished version of sexy.
It's about letting go of the silence, the shame, and the
(01:16:24):
outdated rulebooks that never actually fit you in the 1st
place. It's about giving yourself
permission to explore, to question, to feel and to name
the parts of you that have been waiting quietly in the wings for
their cue. For some of you, this journey
(01:16:46):
might look loud and proud, parades, glitter and full volume
celebration. For others it might be quieter,
more personal, just the steady work of peeling back layers and
reclaiming the rooms in yourselfthat you were told to lock away.
(01:17:07):
Both paths are valid, both are brave.
Both are worth celebrating. What matters most is that you
start listening inward, that youstop treating your desires like
intruders and instead welcome them home as part of the whole
complicated, beautiful human youare.
(01:17:31):
Because the truth is, repressiondoesn't erase who you are, it
just disconnects you from it. And every step you take toward
awareness, permission, exploration, and integration is
a step toward wholeness. So wherever you are in this
(01:17:53):
process, whether you're just beginning to notice the cracks
in the old armor, or you're deepin the messy middle of
exploration, or you've started to feel the grounding of
integration, know that you're not alone.
This isn't linear, it isn't easy, but it is worth it.
(01:18:17):
Your sexuality, your identities,your desires.
These are not flaws to be fixed.They're not dangerous secrets to
be hidden. They're vital, powerful life
giving parts of you, and when you finally let them take their
place in your story, life stops being grayscale survival and
(01:18:41):
starts becoming something richer, fuller, more vibrant.
Thank you for listening, for holding space for this
conversation, and maybe for holding space for yourself in a
new way today. If this episode resonated with
you, I'd love for you to share it.
Leave a review or let me know what pieces stood out most.
(01:19:05):
And as always, keep unpacking, keep exploring, and keep showing
up as your whole unapologetic self.
Until next time. This has been shrink wrapped.
Popular Podcasts
On Purpose with Jay Shetty
I’m Jay Shetty host of On Purpose the worlds #1 Mental Health podcast and I’m so grateful you found us. I started this podcast 5 years ago to invite you into conversations and workshops that are designed to help make you happier, healthier and more healed. I believe that when you (yes you) feel seen, heard and understood you’re able to deal with relationship struggles, work challenges and life’s ups and downs with more ease and grace. I interview experts, celebrities, thought leaders and athletes so that we can grow our mindset, build better habits and uncover a side of them we’ve never seen before. New episodes every Monday and Friday. Your support means the world to me and I don’t take it for granted — click the follow button and leave a review to help us spread the love with On Purpose. I can’t wait for you to listen to your first or 500th episode!
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.