Most people think they need to evict their shame before they can talk dirty.
As if there’s some minimum confidence threshold you have to hit first. A bouncer at the door of your own desire. No shame allowed past this point!
Lol. That’s not how it works.
You don’t need to be shameless (spoiler, no one is truly shameless). So, you just need to be one degree braver than your shame, for at least one short sentence.
Here’s what that actually looks like in practice. Your partner does something hot that’s really working for you. Maybe he’s done it before, maybe this is the first time. Instead of saying nothing and hoping they figure it out by reading your mind like a psychic who specializes in bedroom logistics, you say three words: “That feels good.”
Done. You just talked dirty.
I want you to notice…The ceiling doesn’t fall in. Your partner doesn’t burst out laughing. Your relatives don’t materialize at the foot of the bed looking horrified.
You survive. And your body files that away as evidence.
Do it enough times and the bar starts raising itself.
The reason most people freeze isn’t that they’re prudish or broken. It’s that voicing a desire out loud means being witnessed. And being witnessed means risk. Your body is extremely good at avoiding social risk, which is why staying quiet feels so much safer than saying the vulnerably true thing.
But vulnerable personal truths are almost always hotter than anything you’d borrow from someone else’s script.
If you’re using scripted filth from movies or porn or those hot dragon fantasy novels (ehem), you might end up feeling like you’re wearing a stranger’s coat. Because it is a stranger’s coat.
The whole trick of dirty talk is to say what you actually feel or want. If it feels good, say so. If you want something and it hasn’t happened yet, say that you want it. If you want more of something… you guessed it… say you want more of. That’s it. That’s dirty talk.
The most basic cheat sheet is to start with the following three phrases: “Don’t stop.” “I like that.” “More of that.”
You’re not delivering a keynote, you’re just letting someone know they’re getting warmer. Like a very adult game of hot and cold where the prize is something significantly better than finding a hidden object in a living room.
One small vulnerable share. Notice you survived. Wash, rinse, repeat.
That’s the method I work through with women in my practice. We peel back the layers of shame not by blowing them up all at once, but by collecting enough evidence that your body stops treating your own desire like a threat.
If that’s something you want to explore — whether through my archetypes course, or working with me directly as a sexological bodyworker, book a call and tell me where you’re at.
We’ll figure out the right place to start.