How to overcome sexual shame and reclaim erotic agency
- By Anisa Varasteh - Clinical Sexologist
You want something.
Maybe it’s more tenderness.
More intensity.
A different kind of relationship.
A different partner.
More sex.
Less sex.
And almost immediately, another voice arrives.
“You are selfish.”
“You are weird.”
“You are bad.”
“You are too much.”
That voice is shame.
And for many people, shame becomes so intertwined withdesire that they can no longer tell the difference between what they genuinelywant and what they have just been taught is acceptable to want.
But shame doesn’t dissolve when we tell it to go away.
It softens when it no longer has a job.
Yes, sometimes there is shame about sex.
Many people come to me carrying shame,
but not always the kind they expect.
Yes, sometimes there is shame about sex.
About desire.
About touching their own body.
But more often, the shame lives somewhere less obvious.
Shame about wanting a different kind of relationship: one that may or may not include their current partner, even though they’re deeply unhappy.
Shame about feeling anger when their needs aren’t met.
Shame about longing for a life, a relationship, or a sexuality that feels alive rather than merely “good enough.”
These are not behaviours most people associate with sexual shame.
And yet, this is often where it hides.
Shame is one of the most uncomfortable emotions we experience, so naturally we try to suppress it, manage it, think our way out of it, or treat it like evidence that something is wrong with us.
But the way I understand shame is very different.
Shame is not a moral failure.
It is a survival emotion.
Its job is not to punish us,
it is to protect us.
Shame is not a moral failure.
Especially in childhood, shame functions as a powerful mechanism that helps us stay attached to the people and communities we depend on to survive.
When our access to safety, care, belonging, food, shelter, or love relies on caregivers, anything that threatens that bond activates shame.
In that sense, shame is deeply intelligent.
It helps us avoid punishment, abandonment, exclusion, or the loss of vital resources, all of which would have been genuinely dangerous at one point in our lives.
The problem isn’t shame itself.
The problem is when the context changes, but the nervous system hasn’t caught up.
As adults, our circumstances are often very different.
We may now have:
choice,
financial independence,
emotional capacity,
freedom.
And yet, the body can still experience difference as danger.
So someone may intellectually know:
“I’m allowed to think differently from my family.”
“I’m allowed to touch my own body.”
“I’m allowed to want something else.”
But there is still a part of them that experiences those choices as risky,
because once, they were.
Before we can reclaim choice and agency in intimacy, it’s also important to understand the difference between guilt and shame.
Guilt says:
“I did something bad.”
Shame says:
“I am bad.”
Sexual shame rarely develops in isolation.
It is often inherited.
Cultural.
Contextual.
Relational.
Many people grow up absorbing messages like:
Desire is dangerous.
Pleasure is selfish.
Good women are not “too sexual.”
Men should always want sex.
Vulnerability weakens masculinity.
Because it’s not about sex.
In my clinical work, I rarely see people struggling becauseof desire itself.
More often, I see people struggling because of the meaningthey have attached to desire.
Women who learned that desire makes them unsafe.
Men who learned emotional vulnerability weakens theirmasculinity.
People who learned pleasure must be earned.
People who learned their body exists more for others thanfor themselves.
Over time, shame disconnects people from their own eroticselves.
Not because they are broken.
But because their nervous system learned that authenticitycarried risk.
In intimacy, shame often shows up first in the body, andthis is usually the easiest way to recognise it.
People describe:
• a sinking sensation in the stomach
• tightness in the chest
• heart palpitations
• panic
• numbness
Curiosity collapses.
Desire turns into self-monitoring.
Presence gives way to performance.
And this is important:
Shame does not release through confrontation or logic.
You cannot argue shame away.
You cannot shame yourself for feeling ashamed.
Shame softens through safety, particularly relationalsafety.
That relationship might be with another person:
a therapist,
a partner,
a trusted friend,
a non-judgmental adult.
Or it might be a relationship you slowly cultivate withinyourself.
What matters is the experience of being met without beingfixed.
Seen without being corrected.
Witnessed without judgment.
If you are doing this work internally, I often inviteclients to relate to shame not as a flaw, but as a frightened younger part , achild who learned, very early on, that certain desires, feelings, needs, orexpressions were dangerous.
I sometimes offer this image:
Shame is like a scared child trying to drive a car.
You don’t punish the child.
You don’t throw them out of the car.
You gently let them know they don’t have to drive anymore.
They can sit beside you,
while your adult self takes the wheel
And from that softening, something important becomespossible again:
Choice.
This is where erotic agency becomes important.
To me, erotic agency is the ability to remain connected toyourself inside intimacy.
It means:
• knowing what you want
• noticing what you don’t want
• allowing desire and pleasure without self-punishment
• staying connected to your body instead of abandoningyourself inside the moment
And reclaiming erotic agency is not about becoming someonedifferent.
It is not about performing confidence or becomingmore sexually impressive.
It is about becoming more honest.
More connected to your own experience.
More able to stay present with yourself while being intimatewith another person.
Sometimes this work begins with curiosity.
Noticing the stories you attach to desire.
Observing where you override yourself.
Paying attention to when you feel most alive.
Exploring pleasure outside sexuality.
Asking yourself:
“What do I actually want?”
And perhaps most importantly:
Learning to stay curious instead of judgmental.
I don’t believe every single person needs therapy to heal.
But I do believe we all need safe people,
people who can hold a space where we are allowed to meetparts of ourselves without being shamed for them.
Because shame doesn’t dissolve when we tell it to go away.
It softens when it no longer has a job.
IT SOFTENS WHEN IT NO LONGER HAS A JOB.
Anisa Versah is a qualified sexologist and relationship educator at Relate Sexology, dedicated to helping individuals and couples build deeper, more confident connections with themselves and others. With a passion for breaking down stigma and making conversations around intimacy more accessible, Anisa brings a warm, inclusive, and evidence-based approach to her work.
Her expertise spans sexual wellness, communication, desire, and modern relationship dynamics, with a particular focus on helping people navigate real-life challenges with clarity and compassion. Anisa is known for translating complex topics into practical, relatable insights that empower people to feel more informed, confident, and in control of their sexual wellbeing.
As a contributor to Dripfeed, Anisa shares thoughtful, engaging content designed to spark conversation and support readers in exploring their own experiences. Her writing blends professional knowledge with a down-to-earth tone, covering everything from desire and pleasure to communication and self-awareness.