The Masturbational

When I was younger my mother caught me playing with myself and told me it was a sin, and that single, shame-filled moment became a twisted lens through which I viewed my own sexuality for years. The word "sin" felt like a brand, searing into my psyche a deep-seated guilt that wasn't just about the act itself, but about the pleasure and curiosity it represented. It taught me that my body was something to be controlled, not explored, and that my natural desires were dirty and wrong, creating a quiet but persistent war between my physical urges and the ingrained fear of divine punishment that took well into adulthood to even begin untangling.