How to Pleasure Ourselves: Understanding the Art and Science of Self-Care Beyond the Surface
You know that feeling when you finally scratch that impossible-to-reach spot on your back? That's pleasure in its simplest form. But we're going to dive much deeper than that today. Self-pleasure encompasses so much more than what immediately springs to mind – it's about understanding the intricate dance between our bodies, minds, and the often-overlooked spiritual aspects of feeling genuinely good in our own skin.
I've spent years studying this topic, not just from academic texts but from conversations with therapists, bodyworkers, and everyday people who've discovered profound truths about their own pleasure. What I've learned might surprise you.
The Neuroscience Nobody Talks About
Our brains are wired for pleasure in ways that would make even the most sophisticated computer jealous. When we experience any form of pleasure – whether it's savoring dark chocolate, feeling warm sunlight on our face, or yes, more intimate forms of self-touch – our neural pathways light up like a Christmas tree in Times Square.
The fascinating part? Your brain doesn't actually distinguish much between different types of pleasure at the chemical level. Dopamine is dopamine, whether it's released from accomplishing a difficult task or from physical sensation. This is why understanding pleasure holistically changes everything.
I remember talking to a neuroscientist friend who explained it like this: imagine your nervous system as an old-fashioned switchboard. Every pleasurable experience creates connections, and the more we consciously engage with these experiences, the more sophisticated our "pleasure network" becomes. It's not just about intensity – it's about complexity and depth.
Physical Pleasure: More Than Skin Deep
Let's address the elephant in the room. Yes, sexual self-pleasure is part of this conversation, and it's important. But reducing self-pleasure to just that is like saying music is only about hitting the right notes. There's so much texture and nuance we miss when we think so narrowly.
Physical self-pleasure starts with understanding your body's unique language. Some people find profound pleasure in stretching – that deep, satisfying pull of muscles awakening. Others discover it in temperature play: the shock of cold water during a shower, or the enveloping warmth of a bath infused with Epsom salts.
Here's something most people don't realize: your skin has different types of nerve endings that respond to different stimuli. Meissner's corpuscles respond to light touch, Pacinian corpuscles to pressure and vibration, Ruffini endings to stretching. When you understand this, you can become a maestro of your own sensory experience.
Try this: run your fingernails lightly along your forearm, then press firmly with your palm, then stretch the skin gently. Each sensation activates different neural pathways. It's like having access to multiple instruments in your personal orchestra of sensation.
The Mental Game Changes Everything
Where things get really interesting is when we start talking about mental pleasure. I'm not talking about solving crossword puzzles (though that can be pleasurable too). I'm talking about the deliberate cultivation of pleasurable mental states.
There's this technique I learned from studying various contemplative traditions – it's about savoring. Not just food, but experiences, memories, anticipations. When you actively savor something, your brain extends the pleasure response far beyond the actual experience.
Think about your favorite song. Now think about the anticipation you feel in the seconds before your favorite part. That anticipation? That's mental self-pleasure at work. You're literally creating pleasure from nothing but neural patterns and memory.
Emotional Pleasure: The Forgotten Frontier
This is where I might lose some of you, but stick with me. Emotional self-pleasure is perhaps the most powerful and least understood aspect of this whole discussion. It's about consciously cultivating emotional states that feel good.
No, I'm not talking about toxic positivity or pretending everything's fine when it's not. I'm talking about the deliberate practice of self-compassion, the conscious choice to speak to yourself like you would to a beloved friend, the decision to celebrate small victories.
I once worked with someone who kept what she called a "pleasure journal" – not what you might think. Every day, she'd write down three moments where she felt genuine emotional pleasure. Maybe it was the satisfaction of standing up for herself in a meeting, or the warm feeling of forgiving herself for a mistake. Within months, she reported feeling more "emotionally orgasmic" (her words) than she'd ever felt in her life.
The Integration: Where Magic Happens
Here's where my perspective might diverge from what you've read elsewhere. True self-pleasure isn't about maximizing one type of pleasure – it's about integration. It's about creating what I call "pleasure symphonies" where physical, mental, and emotional pleasure interweave.
Take a walk in nature, for instance. Feel the physical pleasure of movement, the mental pleasure of observing beauty, the emotional pleasure of connection with something larger than yourself. That's integrated pleasure, and it's more powerful than any single sensation could ever be.
Or consider mindful eating. The physical pleasure of taste and texture, the mental pleasure of anticipation and attention, the emotional pleasure of nourishment and self-care. When you engage all these levels simultaneously, something profound happens. You're not just eating – you're conducting a full sensory experience.
The Cultural Baggage We Need to Unpack
Let's be real for a moment. We live in a culture that has a seriously complicated relationship with pleasure. On one hand, we're bombarded with messages to consume, to seek pleasure through buying things. On the other hand, we're told that too much pleasure is dangerous, sinful, or weak.
This schizophrenic cultural attitude has left many of us pleasure-impaired. We either chase pleasure compulsively or deny it rigidly. Neither approach works because both miss the point: pleasure is not a reward or a sin – it's a fundamental aspect of being human.
I grew up in a household where pleasure was always deferred. "Finish your homework, then you can play." "Get through the workweek, then you can relax." This taught me to see pleasure as something separate from life, rather than woven into its very fabric. Unlearning this has been one of my life's great works.
Practical Approaches That Actually Work
So how do we actually do this? How do we become artisans of our own pleasure? It starts with what I call "pleasure mapping." Spend a week simply noticing what genuinely brings you pleasure. Not what you think should bring pleasure, but what actually does.
You might discover surprising things. Maybe the sound of rain on your window brings more pleasure than any expensive entertainment. Maybe the feeling of clean sheets against your skin is more luxurious than any spa treatment. Maybe the mental pleasure of learning something new exceeds any physical sensation.
Once you have your map, you can start experimenting. Layer pleasures. Combine them in new ways. If you love the feeling of warm water and the mental pleasure of reading, why not read in the bath? If you enjoy the physical sensation of movement and the emotional pleasure of music, create playlists specifically for different types of movement.
The Shadow Side Nobody Mentions
Here's something important: the pursuit of pleasure can become its own trap. I've seen people become so focused on optimizing their pleasure that they create a new form of suffering – the anxiety of not feeling good enough, often enough.
The key is to hold it all lightly. Pleasure is not a performance metric. It's not about achieving some optimal state. It's about being present with what is, and finding the pleasure that's already there, waiting to be noticed.
Sometimes the greatest pleasure comes from the absence of striving for pleasure. There's a paradox here that Eastern philosophies have understood for millennia but that we're just beginning to grasp in the West.
Beyond Individual Pleasure
While this article focuses on self-pleasure, I'd be remiss not to mention that our individual pleasure doesn't exist in a vacuum. We're social creatures, and our pleasure systems are designed to connect with others.
Learning to pleasure ourselves – in all the ways we've discussed – makes us better partners, friends, and community members. When we're not desperately seeking pleasure from others because we don't know how to create it ourselves, we can share pleasure rather than extract it.
The Long Game
If there's one thing I want you to take away from this, it's that developing a sophisticated relationship with your own pleasure is a lifelong practice. It's not about reaching some destination where you're perfectly pleasured all the time. It's about becoming increasingly fluent in the language of your own joy.
As you age, your pleasure map will change. What brought pleasure at 20 might not at 40. What seemed boring at 30 might become profound at 50. This isn't decline – it's evolution. Your pleasure palate becomes more refined, more complex, capable of appreciating subtleties that would have been invisible to your younger self.
I'm in my forties now, and I can honestly say that my capacity for pleasure has only deepened with age. Not because my body is more sensitive (in some ways, it's less so), but because I've learned to pay attention in ways I never could before. I've learned that pleasure isn't something that happens to me – it's something I co-create with my experience.
The journey of learning to pleasure ourselves is ultimately a journey of self-discovery. It's about becoming intimate with our own aliveness. In a world that often seems designed to numb us, choosing pleasure – conscious, integrated, holistic pleasure – is almost a radical act.
So start where you are. Notice what you notice. Be curious about your own experience. And remember: you are the world's leading expert on your own pleasure. Nobody else can tell you what feels good to you. That knowledge, that authority, that power – it's already yours. You just need to claim it.
Authoritative Sources:
Komisaruk, Barry R., et al. The Science of Orgasm. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2006.
Linden, David J. The Compass of Pleasure: How Our Brains Make Fatty Foods, Orgasm, Exercise, Marijuana, Generosity, Vodka, Learning, and Gambling Feel So Good. Viking, 2011.
Meston, Cindy M., and David M. Buss. Why Women Have Sex: Understanding Sexual Motivations from Adventure to Revenge. Times Books, 2009.
Nagoski, Emily. Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life. Simon & Schuster, 2015.
Perel, Esther. Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence. Harper, 2006.