After 15 years of porn and hentai use, I decided it was time to stop.
For context, I had just ended a relationship after accepting that I wasn’t attracted to my partner. However, I wondered how much my expectations and tastes were warped by hentai manga and porn plots—which exaggerates feminine proportions, hides imperfection, and emphasizes one-sided submission to men. From years of consumption, there were a lot of unrealistic expectations that I had built up. These manifested in:
- Feeling broken when I didn’t want to jump my girlfriend after she asked for sex (I have high brakes, as Emily Nagoski explains in her sexual response model)
- Forcing myself to have sex, because I believed men should want sex all the time
- Thinking I needed a different partner if the sex was bad, rather than communicating and working on it together
- Thinking sex was the key to happiness, resulting in broken relationships with women who wanted more out of the relationship
After the break up, I couldn’t ignore how porn was affecting me. Years of NSFW content had numbed my connection with myself—physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Reclaiming Pleasure
Do you feel pleasure when you masturbate?
“What an odd question Beats, of course I do! Why else would I do it?”
Sex educator Emily Nagoski’s defines pleasure in her book, Come Together:
“Pleasure is the measure of sexual well-being… great sex over the long-term isn’t about how often you do it, or where you do it… or how many orgasms you have… but how much you like the sex you are having”
Beyond sex, pleasure is liking the horny things you do. I think the distinction between feeling good and liking feeling good is important. Masturbating can certainly feel good, but when I’m doing it every night, it becomes a compulsion and a negative.
For example, physically, I was drained from orgasming so much. I wouldn’t even ejaculate because I masturbated so quickly, finishing within minutes. It was as if my body knew it wasn’t a serious session. Mentally, I was overstimulated by porn visuals, and couldn’t relax when my partner tried to pleasure me. The frustration and lack of feeling would pull me back to porn in search of that high. I would feel good physically, but I wouldn’t feel good about myself.
So, no. I wasn’t feeling pleasure when I masturbated or had sex.
Reclaiming pleasure is a process of rewiring the brain to focus on you: how you feel physically, emotionally, and mentally. Paradoxically, when we rely on NSFW material to turn us on, we turn off to ourselves. It’s like binging TikTok and looking up to see that hours have passed.
So, for a few weeks, I didn’t masturbate or look at NSFW material. Akin to taking a walk without being distracted by music or a podcast, the lack of stimulation was dreadful at first. But slowly, I learned to focus on my body and what I was feeling. Sensation and pleasure started to make a comeback: I would feel the swell of arousal feeling vibrations during a bus ride, enjoy hints of vanilla perfume as a woman passes by, appreciate a cute gal in a wonderful outfit. I knew things were looking up when I woke up one day with morning wood. It was not the occurence, but how it felt. Each pulse rubbed against the blanket, sending tiny bursts of pleasure up my pelvis. I was horny, and it was something to be enjoyed.
It was scary at first to embrace pleasure. There’s a sort of vulnerability to admitting that you want to enjoy feeling good. With how porn permeates society, it’s given us ‘permission’ to be sexual—but only in a limited, male-oriented way that ignores the spectrum of pleasure. Coupled with stress and performance anxiety exacerbated by porn, it’s easy to forget to embrace the entirety of our natural and sexual selves.
The Journey and the Destination
As I reconnected with my body, I gave myself permission to pleasure myself through masturbation. This wasn’t the same as my five minute faps—masturbating was now something I looked forward to. It was a treat, like enjoying a spa night after a long day at work.
I couldn’t remember the last time I thought of it that way, instead of a prerequisite to orgasm and a faster sleep.
I shifted my focus to feeling good throughout the process. Before, I didn’t feel anything because of death grip syndrome and visual overstimulation. Now, I could notice sensations throughout my body turning me on. I started:
- Getting comfortable making noises and groaning aloud
- Thrusting my hips as I masturbated, moving my entire body
- Using a vibrator and other toys for a variety of sensations
- Stroking sensitive parts of my body, like my inner thighs and nipples
- Fantasizing and using my imagination instead of relying on videos (This one was odd at first. I remember laying down and wondering what to fantasize about)
Abstaining from porn also grounded my expectations about sex. NSFW content makes the act look really easy, and you can feel broken if it doesn’t go that way for you. Porn promises euphoric release, and while sex can be that for some people, it’s not always gonna be the case. I was always worried about performing well, instead of asking my partner what they wanted. Eventually, I learned that great sex can come (hah) when we work through the awkward moments with our partner. It’s unrealistic to expect a beginner to draw like a master, so why should we have the same expectation for sex? Especially now that I’ve learned to pleasure myself, I look forward to sharing that with a partner, rather than placing all the pressure on them to make me feel good.
A Guiding Question
I use a question to guide my desires, ground my fantasies, and curb my porn use: Will I feel good about myself after?
A few things to point out. First, feeling good about myself isn’t an excuse to chase what I want. Rather, it’s an appeal to make the best choices for my happiness and integrity. I feel good about myself after working out, but during the workout I’m groaning and cursing myself.
Additionally, I use “I” and “myself” because everyone’s relationship with NSFW is different. As we’ll see in SongBrd—our community sharing column—there are people whose sexual relationships thrive with NSFW content. They use it healthily, adding excitement to their relationship.
Since then, whenever I feel urges to watch porn, I ask myself “will I feel good after?” When I feel the tug to scroll NSFW subreddits, I remind myself about how it makes me feel worse. When I hit it off with a person I want to sleep with but don’t see myself wanting to be friends with, I remind myself of the hurt I can cause.
I have desire, but I also have responsibility to myself and others. This mindset has helped me to make choices I feel good about.
An invitation to embrace yourself
In the end, focusing on your pleasure is about reconnecting with yourself. By doing so, you water your soul and your relationships, making decisions you feel good about (even if they require a bit of discipline). NSFW doesn’t make this any easier, with content that is literally fantastical and out of this world.
Re-examining your relationship with porn will take a lot of introspection and honesty.
is one of many ways of accepting yourself. A healthier relationship with sexuality that in turn waters your relationships. An invitation to make choices you feel good about, even if they require a bit of discipline.
Of course, there can be lapses. Difficult days make it easy to give in to our desires, especially with how mind-numbing it can be. My own trap is swiping on dating apps when I’m lonely, even knowing my own values and dislike for online dating. It can help to write down how you feel before and after such lapses, to remind yourself next time that you didn’t gain anything.
And it goes without saying, don’t forget that you’re human. Be strict, but loving. You’re doing this for yourself, after all.
Have questions or want to share your experience about reclaiming pleasure? Send a note in to SongBrd, our community sharing column.
