Stories from the Table 2: Why He Chose Me

A story of healing, erotic reclamation, and deep trust.

In 2022, he came to me quietly, with the weight of something sacred and fragile in his body. Months before, he had been violently raped—an act that left him not only physically injured, but emotionally fractured. After many surgeries and much solitude, his body had healed. But his spirit hadn’t yet caught up.

He told me his story gently. I listened—not just with my ears, but with my breath, my energy, my stillness.

I didn’t try to fix him. I simply let him know:

You are safe. You are welcome. You are whole.

He said he wanted to feel pleasure again. To reclaim what had been taken.

So, slowly and tenderly, I guided him. We created a space together—of trust, slowness, arousal, and play. I distracted him from fear with warmth. I used breath and erotic energy not as a goal, but as a tool for embodiment.

At one point, I placed a condom beside him.

“When you’re ready,” I said.

No pressure. No timeline. Just presence.

Eventually, he reached for it.

And in that moment, he took something back.

We moved together gently—sacred, connected, alive.

He let his body receive what it had once feared.

He opened to sensation, to joy, to release.

And under my body, he came—freely, beautifully, fully.

Afterward, we were quiet. I held him like a brother, like a lover, like someone who understood the weight of survival and the lightness of returning to joy.

As he was leaving, I asked him, “Why did you choose me?”

He looked at me, softly, and said:

“You have a kind face.”

⸻

This Work Is Sacred

Many men carry invisible wounds.

Wounds around sex, safety, trust, and the body.

Wounds that don’t heal through silence—or even talk—but through touch, presence, and connection.

I don’t heal people. I simply hold space for their healing to happen.

With care. With slowness. With reverence.

If you carry pain in your body or fear around intimacy—know this:

Your story is welcome here.

And healing is possible.

One breath, one touch, one moment at a time.