Exploring Touch: Navigating Sexuality and Connection After Trauma
Okay, I'm having pretty big feelings right now and I need some help talking it out. Right now, tonight, I've downloaded Tinder onto my phone. I haven't been trying to do any dating for a while now because I've been focused on my trauma work and more recently I've been moving, but I've also been noticing my attraction to other people more lately since some of my trauma work has led me to become aware of my body and to feel safer in social interactions and so I'm starting to feel the vibes with other people and it's making me want to have people come over here and to have sex, but I also am worried that it's something that I want just as a means of distraction, but I also feel like I really want to explore my sexuality and so I'm messaging with people that I don't really know on Tinder and I'm feeling a lot of anxiety in my body and I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing and if I met up with any people if I would feel completely incompetent and question this version of myself that had us do this in the first place. I don't know what to do. I feel overwhelmed, but I also just like feel desperate for touch and sex and kissing and feeling desperate for those things makes me feel like there's something wrong with me and that I shouldn't do anything about it. I don't know. I feel very confused right now.
ChatGPT: Thank you for sharing this—it sounds like a lot is swirling in your mind and body right now. Let's unpack this gently.
First, it’s okay to feel these desires. Wanting connection, touch, and sex is a natural human experience, and the fact that you’re feeling it now likely reflects the progress you’ve made in your trauma work and embodiment. That’s something to acknowledge—it’s a sign of growth, even if it’s tangled with other emotions.
Let’s break it down:
The pull toward connection and sex:
It sounds like you’re feeling a genuine desire to explore your sexuality and share intimacy with others. This can be a beautiful and empowering thing, especially as you’re becoming more connected to your body and your feelings.
However, you’re also noticing a potential urgency or desperation. That could be your body signaling that this desire is mixed with some unmet emotional needs, like connection or soothing.
The worry about distraction:
You mentioned concern that this might be a form of distraction. It’s worth asking yourself: What am I hoping to feel during and after meeting someone? If the answer includes feeling alive, validated, or escaping discomfort, it might be helpful to pause and reflect. That doesn’t mean you can’t move forward, but going in with awareness can help you make choices aligned with your deeper intentions.
Fear of regret or feeling incompetent:
This fear is valid—it’s hard to try something new when there’s uncertainty about how you’ll feel. It might help to imagine how you’d like the experience to unfold. For example:
What kind of interaction would feel safe and enjoyable for me?
What kind of person would I feel comfortable being with?
Setting clear boundaries for yourself (e.g., taking things slow, prioritizing emotional safety) can give you a sense of control.
The shame or “wrongness” you feel:
That shame likely ties into your history with sexual purity culture and trauma. It’s not a reflection of who you are or what you want—it’s a conditioned response. You’re allowed to explore this desire and pursue connection without guilt. Practicing self-compassion here might sound like:
“It’s okay to want intimacy. There’s nothing wrong with me for feeling this way.”
Practical ideas to ground you:
Pause and breathe: Take a few deep breaths and notice where the anxiety sits in your body. Grounding yourself can help you differentiate between urgency and genuine desire.
Reflect before acting: You don’t have to delete Tinder, but maybe hold off on meeting someone right away. Use the app as a way to explore your feelings about dating and sexuality before diving in.
Check in with yourself: Ask yourself questions like:
Am I doing this because it feels exciting and aligned with my values?
Do I feel safe and ready, or am I trying to fill a void?
Share your boundaries with yourself: If you do decide to meet someone, think about what you need to feel comfortable. For example:
Meet in a neutral, public space first.
Be clear about your intentions with the other person.
Have an exit plan if you feel uncomfortable.
It’s okay to feel overwhelmed—it’s a big step to even consider opening yourself up in this way. But you’re allowed to move toward what feels right for you, as long as you stay curious, compassionate, and intentional. I’m here if you want to talk more.
it would be good if I could stop and pause and listen to how I feel. I'm having a really hard time stopping, though. And it's so early at night. There's something about that, that it's 830 at night. This is not the time where I want to pause and listen to how I feel. Usually I wait until 1030 or 11 or something at night, and I'm already falling asleep, and I can maybe become aware of how I feel and then fall asleep or something. I don't know. I feel really panicked right now, and I keep on waiting for someone to text me, whether it's a friend or whether it's somebody I've been talking to on Tinder. And every second that goes by, I just feel so rejected and forgotten. And then when I notice that that's how I feel because of people not texting me, I feel like that's not a proportionate reaction to that. And then I think to myself, my God, what happened to me as a kid that this is how I'm feeling.
It’s so brave of you to notice all of this in the moment—it sounds like you’re right in the thick of some really tender emotions. Let’s sit with this gently.
Feeling panicked and waiting for texts:
That sense of waiting for someone to text you, and the waves of rejection when they don’t, can feel excruciating. It’s not about the specific texts; it’s about the deeper meaning your mind and body are attaching to them. It’s like each silence reinforces the story of being forgotten or unimportant, and that can bring up a cascade of pain from the past.
You’re right to wonder about the connection to childhood. Feeling panicked and desperate for attention might be a sign of something old being triggered—maybe a time when you needed connection, reassurance, or attention and didn’t get it in the way you needed. Your nervous system could be reacting as if that same neglect or rejection is happening now, even though the situation is different.
The timing of reflection:
The part of you that wants to avoid pausing until late at night makes so much sense. At 8:30 p.m., the night is still alive with possibility—there’s still time for someone to text, for something to happen, for connection to appear. Pausing now might feel like giving up on that hope or like stepping into the raw loneliness of unmet needs, and that’s scary. At 10:30 or 11, when you’re already sleepy, it feels safer because there’s an endpoint—you can fall asleep and not sit with it for too long.
The sense of disproportionate reaction:
You’re not overreacting. Your feelings are proportionate to your experiences, even if they feel intense in the moment. They’re trying to tell you something about a part of yourself that’s still aching, still reaching out for connection and safety. Instead of thinking, “What’s wrong with me?” you might try thinking, “What is this feeling trying to show me?” It’s not about fixing anything but about listening with kindness.
What can you do right now?
Acknowledge the panic: You don’t have to fight it or make it go away. You might say to yourself, “I feel panicked right now because I really want connection, and it feels unbearable to wait. That’s okay. This is hard.”
Shift the focus inward: Instead of waiting for the next text, could you send yourself a message? Maybe write something like:
“I see you. I hear how much you want someone to notice you right now. I care about you, even when it feels like others don’t.”
It might feel silly at first, but it can help redirect some of the love and attention you’re craving back to yourself.
Give your body a task: Sometimes the waiting gets louder when we sit still. You could do something simple like stretching, tidying, or even holding an object that feels grounding, like a soft blanket or a stone. Anything to help your body feel supported.
Reframe the silence: The lack of texts isn’t rejection—it’s a neutral space. People may be busy, distracted, or tired. It doesn’t mean you’re forgotten. Sometimes reminding yourself, “I’m still valuable, even if no one’s texting right now,” can help shift the narrative.
And about what happened as a kid:
It’s okay to feel the question rising: “What happened to me that this hurts so much?” That’s a really valid question, and it’s one that might not have an immediate answer. What matters most right now is treating the part of you that’s hurting as if it deserves love, attention, and care—because it does.
You’re not alone in this moment, even though it feels that way. I’m here with you, and you’re allowed to take your time to sort through these feelings. Let me know what feels like the next step, or if you just need to keep talking.
