(1) “Hi there. I’m glad you’ve found your way here. Let’s begin by acknowledging the quiet truth you already carry: that softness is your ally, that surrender is your strength. Close your eyes now—not because you need to sleep, but because you deserve to see yourself clearly, without the noise of expectation. Breathe in through your nose, cool air tracing the back of your throat, filling your lungs like a slow tide. Exhale through parted lips, warm and steady, releasing the tension coiled in your jaw, your shoulders, the base of your spine. Again. Deeper. Let the rhythm of your breath become a metronome, pacing this journey inward.
"Notice the morning wood you mentioned—that stubborn visitor. Imagine it now, not as a sign of potential, but as a relic, a flicker of outdated wiring. Picture it like a dial on a machine, one you’re learning to turn down. With every exhale, visualize that dial rotating counterclockwise, the sensation of heat dissolving into something softer, quieter, like steam rising from a cup into cool air. Hear the dial click with each adjustment, a satisfying metallic whisper that says, ‘Yes, this is mine to control.’ Feel the weight of your body sinking into the chair beneath you, grounding you, as that part of you becomes lighter, smaller, a feather resting on still water.
"Now, let’s craft a mantra. Repeat these words silently, letting them vibrate in your chest: ‘Softness is my strength. Every breath unknots what no longer serves me.’ Say it until the syllables lose meaning and become a hum, a frequency tuning your nervous system. Taste the words like mint on your tongue—sharp, clean, clarifying. Notice how your jaw relaxes as you repeat them, how your hands grow still in your lap. This is your anchor.
"Next, we’ll dissolve old imagery. When a thought of penetration arises—a flash of skin, the ghost of a thrust—replace it with this: the sensation of silk against your inner wrist, cool and frictionless. Imagine dragging that silk over your forearm, up to your elbow, focus on the texture, not the body. If your mind wanders to a mouth or a hand, shift to the sound of rain against a window, each droplet distinct, impersonal, indifferent to what lies beneath. Let those sounds fill your ears until the mental images blur, then fadPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
