It was another lovely evening at Cuddle Sanctuary, and I was the facilitator.
“We’re going to play a game called ‘I’m the Boss’,” I told the group. “For one minute, you get to ask the whole group, or just certain individuals for anything you’d like.”
I gave a few examples, and was careful to remind them that they were always at choice to opt out. “You’re not allowed to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” I said.
“Now who’d like to join me?”
All eight participants raised their hands. All were men.
Outnumbered
I wasn’t worried, exactly.
We don’t gender balance our events for some very thoughtful reasons. It tends to work out to be a wonderful mix of folks every single time.
It was tonight too, it just so happened to take this particular form. “Fei and the boys,” quipped one participant.
We named the elephant in the room, and addressed any disappointment or concerns. Anyone could leave for a full refund; everyone stayed anyway.
What a phenomenal group of men.
A fun and safe way to connect
Playing “I’m the Boss” was my tool for inviting the group to find different ways to interact with one-another.
It worked! Such lovely connection and camaraderie ensured.
Each person directed the group with their fun ideas. Activities ranged from one person receiving an 8-10 handed massage, to sitting/lying in a large circle touching ankles. We had a massage train, and a “companioning train”, with all of us sitting against the wall in a row, some of us holding hands or leaning into one another.
And then it was my turn.
Doubt vs. delight
Should I even have a turn? The thought flickered through my mind.
On the one hand, modeling and being a part of the group is great. On the other hand, I was happy to just facilitate, and make it all about the attendees and their experience.
But I knew what I wanted.
“I’d like to roll over your backs,” I declared.
A brief description later, there was a row of men, lying close to each other, face down.
It was such a delightful sight! And that’s when the guilt hit.
Judgment
The voice in my head was vicious.
“You’re abusing your power as the facilitator,” it snarled.
“You suggested this game just so you could do this.”
“You’re so bossy, you just forced 8 men come into close physical contact with one-another.”
“You’ll be selfishly inflicting pain on them.”
Basically, my mind was doing its best to convince me that what I had asked for was wrong, and I didn’t deserve to experience it.
The Invisible Tripwire
You see, every one of us has a pleasure threshold. It’s a ceiling to how good we allow ourselves to feel before “self-correcting” with guilt and shame.
It’s like this invisible tripwire between joy and pain, and I just hit mine.
This mechanism exists in our psyches to keep ourselves under wraps. It stems from the belief that there can be too much of a good thing; that we’re only allowed a certain limited amount of good feelings at a time. If we exceed that, we’re somehow doing it wrong.
For some of us, the ceiling is really high and we don’t hit it often. Others of us trip into this shaming place frequently.
You deserve to have enjoyment
I’ve been noticing my own pleasure threshold for a while now. I’m raising it slowly, with lots of patience and practice.
It takes ignoring and pushing past the harsh internal judgement that comes up. I’m learning to step into my worthiness and really believe that I deserve pleasure. Even if it looks ridiculous; even in exorbitant amounts.
It also takes trusting the generosity of the people who have granted my request. These men were exhorted to opt out if they didn’t want to be there. They opted in anyway. They want me to have fun!
Choosing to believe that, I took a deep breath and rolled. I rolled over my belief that I’m too little, or that I’m too much.
I did this gleefully, with full permission to enjoy this bit of silliness I’d created just for me.
