The Birds and The Bees

Talking about Sex and Trauma.

Sex is a deeply emotional and vulnerable subject that many people struggle to discuss openly. Even in therapy, it's often whispered about; worrying questions surrounding sex, relating to low self-esteem, anxiety, or shame are often found difficult to ask. The topic of sex remains so taboo that it feels secretive, which causes more harm than good. 

As a sexual abuse survivor, I feel that I struggle more than most when it comes to talking about sex. I even struggle just writing about it in this blog. 

When I found the courage to start therapy, I learned quickly that my trauma was surrounded by the topic of sex and there was no way around it. But society has taught me, like most women, that talking about sex often leads to consequences such as being labeled or even taken advantage of. I was extremely uncomfortable talking about sex in therapy, even though I knew the room was safe, it didn’t feel safe to talk about sex. Yet here I am writing this blog. 

I know this isn’t an easy topic. Talking about sex—especially when there's trauma involved—can feel incredibly heavy, even scary. But I want you to hear this: a little discomfort now can lead to so much healing later. And you deserve that healing.

If you’re finding it hard to open up, try starting with something just for you—a trauma journal. Any time you're triggered, have a tough thought, or feel overwhelmed after being intimate, take a moment and write it all down. Let it pour out, messy or not. No one needs to see it but you… unless you want them to. This can be a gentle first step in learning how to talk about sex, especially when words are hard to find in the moment.

And when you’re ready—if it feels right—consider sharing parts of your journal with your therapist. You don’t have to read it out loud if that feels like too much. You can email it, snap a photo, upload it—whatever feels safest. Your therapist wants to support you and meeting you where you are is part of that.

Once you take that first step, the next ones—especially when it comes to talking about sex and trauma—start to feel a little less overwhelming. At least, that’s been true for me. Starting a journal was the step that gently opened the door. I’m not fully there yet—I’m still working on feeling comfortable actually talking about it out loud—but sharing pieces of my journal has helped me find the courage to let others in.

The first person I ever shared my trauma journal with was my husband. It was one of the most vulnerable moments I’ve ever experienced—not just for me, but I imagine for him too. I remember my body shaking as he read a journal entry about a memory that had been triggered by something as ordinary as a walk through Home Depot. Just the smell of wood took me right back to a place I didn’t want to be.

Watching him read those words felt scary… but also strangely freeing. It was the first time I let someone see that part of me. The darkness that I live with every day. And when he looked up from that page, his eyes were full of tears. He didn’t say anything right away—he just looked at me, really looked at me. Then he said, “I never knew how strong you are, and how much you have to carry with you.”

That moment lifted a weight I didn’t even realize I was holding—not just off of me, but off of us. Suddenly, so many things started to make sense to him. Why I sometimes cry after being intimate. Why I need to be able to see his face during those moments. Why I’m not always in the mood.

It wasn’t just about him understanding me—it was about me finally letting myself be seen. From that moment on, something shifted between us. It didn’t magically fix everything, but it opened a door we had both been quietly standing in front of, unsure how to walk through. More patience in the moments I pulled away. And for me, there was less pressure to pretend I was okay when I wasn’t.

Sharing my trauma didn’t push him away—it brought us closer. I realized that intimacy isn’t just about sex. It’s about trust, safety, and being fully seen—even in the parts we’re most afraid to show. And when those parts are met with compassion instead of confusion, judgement or (can’t believe this one) finger pointing, healing becomes possible in ways I never expected.

Of course, the journey isn’t linear. There are still hard days. There are still moments where I freeze or shut down. But now, I have someone who doesn’t take it personally. Someone who doesn’t try to fix it but just sits with me in it.

And that kind of support? That’s everything.

I truly hope this blog helps you see just how important it is to talk about sex and your trauma. Opening up can be life changing. It shows you that there are people in your life who will listen, who will help carry some of the weight you’ve been carrying as a survivor—whether that’s from sexual abuse or any other trauma. It helps others understand you, and most importantly, you deserve that understanding.

Life has already been heavy. You’ve been fighting this war your whole life. But now—if you’re safe—it's time to fight a different battle: the battle of healing. Only you can give yourself that, and you deserve it more than anyone.

And if you’re still in the middle of that war—if you don’t feel safe yet—I hope this blog gives you the courage to speak up and find a way out. You deserve better than the life you’ve been handed. It’s time to take back control and start talking about it. Because your voice matters, and your healing matters.