Eroticism and the Unconscious in Tantra: Awakening Erotic Self-Knowing

Eroticism and the unconscious in Tantra are inseparably linked. Erotic energy is far more than a physical charge or fleeting attraction; it is the deep current that runs through our bodies and psyches, carrying the imprint of our history, our conditioning, and our soul’s longing. Desire, as most people understand it, is the ache for something outside ourselves to soothe an inner tension. Eroticism is the current beneath that ache, the animating shimmer of life that fuels desire itself, drawing us toward what feels most alive. In ancient Greek thought, Eros was a daimon, a divine intermediary capable of transforming the human psyche. In Tantra, erotic energy is honoured as this same catalytic current, a bridge between the human and the divine, the body and the soul. But when we are not conscious of it, eroticism becomes shaped by the past, moving through us according to old wounds and unmet needs.

The unconscious writes its stories into our arousal, often without our permission. A woman molested in childhood may find herself fantasising about older men and young women, not because she condones harm, but because her psyche is attempting to revisit and rescript the scene of her original powerlessness. A man beaten by his father may feel drawn to tie up his partner or use handcuffs, not out of cruelty, but from a compulsion to reclaim the dominance he once lacked. Without awareness, these longings can feel shameful or “messed up”, leading to suppression and self-rejection. Or, at the other extreme, they may be acted out unconsciously, with no deeper understanding of what they are trying to resolve. In this state, eroticism can be compulsive, repetitive, and disconnected from genuine intimacy with the body going through motions while the heart remains absent, pleasure serving as an escape rather than an awakening.

To work consciously with eroticism is not to sanitise it into something polite or “pure”, nor is it to indulge every fantasy literally. It is to recognise that every erotic impulse, however confrontational, is a symbolic message from the unconscious. In Tantra, these messages are not pathologised; they are invitations to integration. Conscious eroticism begins when we stop turning away from what arouses us, even if it disturbs us. We learn to stay with the charge long enough to feel its texture, to ask what it is pointing toward. In this way, the woman who feels aroused by a scenario resembling her trauma can meet the younger part of herself that still longs for safety, agency, and the ability to choose. The man who feels drawn to control in the bedroom can discover that beneath the act lies a hunger to feel secure, unthreatened, and in command of his own experience. By holding these impulses with awareness, we reclaim the energy bound up in them without harming ourselves or others.

Sensual surreal painting of a nude woman embracing a black horse, symbolizing passion, power, and struggle

For women, this often means stepping out of the split between the “good” woman who is modest and the “bad” woman who is free but judged, learning to follow desire as her compass rather than as a reaction to external scripts. For men, it may mean dismantling the belief that strength lies in constant control, allowing surrender and vulnerability to be part of his erotic expression. IIn conscious eroticism, potency arises from presence rather than performance, transforming the body into a temple of sensation, responsiveness, and dignity. This is erotic integration: the sacred marriage of shadow and light. It is the willingness to hold the full truth of our desires: the beautiful, the disturbing, the tender, and the fierce, without collapsing into them or pushing them away. Desire serves as a guide to the aspects of ourselves that we have banished. Even the fantasies we most fear may carry the medicine we most need.

When we approach eroticism as a form of psycho-spiritual intelligence, we should ask ourselves, “What does this arousal want me to feel? What part of me have I abandoned that now speaks through the erotic? What truth have I silenced that now longs to be expressed? This awareness allows us to begin reclaiming our scattered energy. In doing so, eroticism ceases to be a problem to solve or a temptation to resist. It becomes the pulse of life itself, the bridge between the conscious mind and the vast, mysterious depths of the unconscious, and when met with reverence, it is not only a source of pleasure but a path of awakening, leading us home to ourselves whole, embodied, and profoundly alive.

Working consciously with erotic energy is not about forcing yourself to like or dislike certain fantasies, nor is it about rushing to “fix” them. It begins with allowing them to exist in your awareness without collapsing into them or pushing them away. The first step is curiosity and a willingness to see the impulse as information rather than as a verdict on your character. When you feel arousal arise, especially if it feels charged, shameful, or confusing, pause before reacting. Breathe into your body, notice where the sensation lives, and invite it to speak. Ask: What is this sensation really about? What's the emotional flavour behind this picture or scenario? Often, you will discover not just lust or disgust, but longing, grief, rage, tenderness, or a deep wish for peace.

The second step is to work directly with the energy of a fantasy, and conscious BDSM can be one of the most potent ways to do this. Tantra aims to embrace discomfort and go to the source of the wound. Here, the scene or dynamic is not necessarily planned out in detail. Instead, there is the agreement of a safe word and a deep trust that if it is spoken, it will be respected without question. Such an arrangement creates just enough safety for the person to allow themselves to be taken back into the emotional imprint of the trauma, to re-enter the moment where fear, shock, or helplessness once froze the nervous system. In that space, what was once impossible to feel can now be met with full awareness.

For example, a woman whose arousal is linked to powerlessness might choose to enter into a scene that mirrors that dynamic, perhaps being restrained or overpowered, but this time, she can choose to stay present, breathe through the sensations, and meet the emotions that were locked away. A man drawn to dominance might step fully into that role, but with the intention of exploring the underlying need for agency, security, or self-possession, rather than simply enacting control. In both cases, the body’s memory is awakened, and the energy that was trapped from so long ago has the

to move. The safe word ensures the person can pause at any moment, but within that agreement, they are free to stay with the charge, to move through the fear, and to reclaim what was lost. This is the essence of the tantric approach: not retreating from the edge, but consciously crossing it, so that the past is no longer an unseen force shaping the present.

Finally, give the process your full presence. When this work is done with totality, where you allow yourself to feel with utmost awareness in the body, beyond the story, and into the raw sensation itself, it is possible to dissolve wounding that has been locked in place for years, even decades, in a single meeting with it. In that moment of full engagement, the body can rewire itself back to its natural, unarmoured state. You may still feel the same turn-ons, but they will no longer control you, and you will be able to engage with them or let them pass from a place of choice. This is the true freedom Tantra points toward: not the erasure of your erotic complexity, but the integration of it, so that all of your desire becomes a source of vitality, authenticity, and connection.

This is the heart of my work with clients. Together, we drop into these old wounds, meeting them in a way that allows what has been stuck to finally move. If this resonates with you and you feel ready to step into this work, I invite you to reach out to me.