Intimacy, as Karolin Tsarski reveals, is rarely about the act itself. It is about the quiet, often unspoken negotiation between body, mind, and the stories we inherit about what pleasure should look like. In this deeply reflective conversation, she unravels the misconceptions that once shaped her earliest encounters with desire, where readiness was assumed rather than felt, and where performance quietly replaced presence. Her journey is not one of instant awakening but of slow, sometimes painful unlearning. 

For years, she moved through intimacy disconnected from her body, guided more by expectation than instinct, until avoidance itself became a form of protection. What follows is a striking evolution, one that required her to question not only partners but entire systems that positioned women’s pleasure as secondary or conditional.

There is a raw emotional intelligence in the way she speaks about conditioning, particularly the subtle yet pervasive tendency to prioritize another’s experience over one’s own. That unraveling became the foundation of her work, where personal struggle transformed into a wider mission. Today, her voice carries both lived experience and studied insight, bridging the deeply personal with the clinical and collective. She challenges the idea that pleasure can be engineered through technique alone, instead bringing us back to something far more nuanced: the alignment of emotional safety, mental presence, and physical readiness.

In this conversation with Karolin Tsarski, intimacy is reframed not as something to perfect, but as something to listen to, a language of the body that asks for patience, honesty, and, above all, respect.

What I Got Wrong About Intimacy

Karolin Tsarski, when you look back at your early experiences with intimacy, what do you think you misunderstood most about pleasure, and how did that ultimately shape your journey?

Karolin: When I began my intimate life, I had no idea that I had to feel into my body and explore intimacy in the rhythm of the body, not the mind. The mind may tell you, “I want to have sex with this person,” and I never listened to whether my body was ready to have sex; I didn’t even know there was such a thing as being ready. Even today, I hear it in some professional settings or opinions of mature adults that, for example, penetration just depends on the readiness of the male genitalia, and a woman can simply be entered. I couldn’t disagree with this more. Not only does a woman’s body have to be ready, but her mind and her emotions have to be ready, and not just 100% but at least 200%.  Another key pattern I had, which I see is so prevalent in most women, is that I always felt I had to please my partner, regardless of how I feel. While of course it is important to take into account each other’s wishes and sexual well-being, this never gets you to a better place if you do it at your expense.

That simply doesn’t work. But very often women have this people-pleasing encoded in them, and they just are willing to get sex done and over with, even if they themselves suffer. Because of these two mindsets, I didn’t even enjoy penetration; although I felt a lot of sexuality and arousal, I never really learned to enjoy it with a partner or deeply on my own. So that made me avoid penetration and men for many years, as I thought there was simply something wrong with me, but I didn’t know how to solve the problem. But I always longed to solve it, so after many years of postponing even facing it, I started to dig into how I could find sexual pleasure. The journey for me was by no means linear and took many years of mistakes and setbacks, but eventually, of course, it was worth it.

Spotting Safe Tantra

Tantra became a turning point for you, but your experience included both healing and trauma. How do you now distinguish between safe, empowering spaces and those that can be harmful in the wellness and sexuality world?

Karolin: Surely the world is diverse, and there can be many variations depending on people, what is safe and what is not, and what someone finds empowering. Personally, for me, the main traumatizing workshops were the ones led by men. And because of that, today I would deeply question any man teaching women about female sexuality. Even sometimes partly, their lectures can be logical, but men just don’t have a woman’s body and experience, and so many of them don’t really deeply understand women’s experience in sexuality; they just project their own concepts on women. Also, some of my worst intimate experiences have been with tantra masters who claim that women are goddesses and go on about the importance of female satisfaction, when in reality they just want to use any woman and treat them much worse than someone who is genuinely interested in you or your sexual well-being.

And many tantra teachers think that, as they have learned something, maybe mastered some technique or practice, they can heal a woman or help a woman, thus putting themselves in a position of power and making claims about how women are blocked or frigid. I don’t believe any woman is blocked. If a woman’s body doesn’t arouse, then the context isn’t suitable for her, and the body should be shut off in that context. That’s just your body wisdom, not blockage. Also, in some tantra massage workshops where genital massage is involved, it is often encouraged to give women a painful massage, claiming this releases blockages. I think that is just abuse. No male teacher is encouraging giving painful penis, testicle, or anal massages to men and claiming this releases blockages. “Push harder and cry—you will find a release. “That is just cruel. Here again, they create this story that a woman is frigid and blocked, whereas it is really the men who claim to heal who are really just abusing the woman. Again, if a woman’s body doesn’t arouse in intimate massage, that is not the right context; there is nothing wrong with her body, but the way she is approached, and again, it is the body wisdom telling that this is not right and should be respected.

Fine Line of Sex in the Self-Care Era

There’s a growing “wellness” narrative around sex. Do you think it’s empowering, or is it just repackaging pressure in a more polished way?

Karolin: It can be both empowering, and surely it can be pressurizing and create a sensation of yet another area where I am not good enough and thus have to improve and be perfect.

So just from personal experience, because I didn’t enjoy sex and I was curious to figure out how to enjoy sex, since I did really want to have it, learning to enjoy it was really life-changing for me. It is a powerful energy and life force, so if it is flowing, it certainly has a huge impact on physical, emotional, and mental well-being, and everything in my life and being just improved tremendously.

At the same time, it is a slippery path, this whole “I have to be good in bed” or “I have to be perfect in any area in my life,” rather than just relax and accept that we are all different with our challenges and our perfect imperfections.

So it really depends on where you are and really checking your motivation for exploring it. I personally would recommend it for anyone to explore the depths of satisfaction, just because of the impact I have experienced and the impact I have seen it has when people discover their true pleasure.

But also, I sometimes hear beautiful stories of sexuality, which are satisfying and harmonious, and then people think they absolutely have to get more and more and better. I often suggest being grateful for what you have and relaxing into it, and it will expand naturally if you stop trying.

Again, I feel there is so much more for me to discover, and I am curious to explore, but that is my personal interest. And other people may have different passions 😊.

But nobody should suffer in intimacy, and if that is the case, then I really find it important to explore solutions.

Pleasure Made Easy

The idea of “ultimate bliss” can feel intimidating or even unrealistic to some. How do you ground this concept so it feels accessible and not overwhelming?

Karolin: I can absolutely relate that “ultimate bliss” just seems out of reach for most. It did for me as well. When I first saw a woman have a whole-body energetic orgasm with very little stimulation, I thought she had some special powers, and it didn’t even cross my mind that this could be possible for me. It took me years before my brain opened up to the possibility that, oh, somebody is having it; maybe I could have it. And then it took more years for my body to start experiencing it.

But initially, when I started exploring sexuality, my only wish really was that it wouldn’t be painful or uncomfortable and that it could give a little pleasure. I didn’t have any other goals. But slowly, being on the path, I started to hear more about the possibilities of female pleasure, and then I also started to have experiences beyond my belief. I really thought such blissful states would never be accessible to me, as I considered myself very different and difficult sexually. But because I saw what is possible for me, I have absolute faith that blissful experiences are accessible to anyone. But perhaps the wording really doesn’t need to be exaggerated; I am sure I have a long way to go to “ultimate bliss”.  What is important is that you feel satisfied, and that can differ from person to person, in what that means. It is also absolutely important that you are honest with yourself about whether you truly feel satisfied.

For example, orgasm and penetration don’t have to be included in intimacy for someone to feel satisfied. It is perfectly possible to have a deeply satisfying sexual life without these two. So it is important to tune into your body; if the body feels good and satisfied, it’s all good. Never compare yourself to someone else’s experience and think you should reach a similar state; what you need is to reach a deeply satisfying experience for you, whatever shape or form this comes in. And if it is not satisfying, it may be worth exploring how to deepen your pleasure.

No Shortcut to Ecstasy

If someone could magically “upgrade” their sexual experience with a pill, toy, or technique, would you encourage it, or is intimacy much more than the physical act?

Karolin: There is no black or white in my opinion. Personally, I don’t like pills, toys, or techniques. But if someone feels this is enjoyable and adds to their pleasure, then I don’t see any negativity in toys, for example. It’s just that such things usually give intense peak pleasure, which is external, but do not go to the depths; no toy, pill, or technique opens your heart, which I think is where true intimate satisfaction comes from. So, for me, being deeply in the moment and relaxing into your heart is what intimacy is all about. Surely any short, intense pleasure aids can be used, but not to fix a problem or force pleasure, but rather just to add variation if that is something someone feels connected to.

And if we take Viagra, for example, it is only available for men. There is a reason why it’s impossible to invent Viagra for women—yes, there have been attempts, and yes, there are some products, but especially for women in heterosexual intimacy, sex happens inside of them, so even if some product would get their genitals engorged, you need to add mental and emotional desire for sex to be pleasurable.

Physiologically this can be for both men and women, where genitals swell and are “excited,” but psychologically there is no desire, or even there is repulsion or trauma. There was a study where they showed women hardcore porn, and their genitals did react, but when asked, many said they felt repulsion or discomfort, so just because their genitals reacted, they didn’t react to that specific stimulus. As a difficult example, if a woman is raped, she could get wet and even reach an orgasm, because it could be that the body translates this as sexual context and so physically reacts. But this is never pleasurable for any woman, and it is traumatizing.

So absolutely, sex is so much more than genitals. Again, if it is pleasurable and fun for both parties, you can just focus on “rubbing genitals” and get the nerve signals to give you pleasure. But usually, especially for women, if this is the only intimacy they experience, their soul starts longing for more.

Here’s What You Need to Know

If someone reading this feels like pleasure just “isn’t for them,” what would you want them to know about their capacity for intimacy and fulfillment?

Karolin: First of all, I can absolutely relate. For years, I thought I was just born different and I would be stuck with being complicated in my ability to feel pleasure, and perhaps I could squeeze a little pleasure out occasionally, but I am problematic by default. Now having a completely different experience, I don’t believe that pleasure is inaccessible to someone. There are minor exceptions; there are asexuals for whom it truly isn’t important, but that is a very small percentage of people. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being asexual, but very often, people suppress their need or desire and then think they are not interested, and that is unhealthy.

Another thing many women experience is losing any interest in pleasure once they reach menopause. So again, yes, this may bring a huge shift for some; it is very individual. But the change doesn’t have to mean pleasure just isn’t for them anymore. Yes, physically your body doesn’t have the urge to procreate, but it can still feel pleasure. And yes, even in terms of how important sexuality feels in your life, it can absolutely shift, and there is nothing wrong with that either; it goes more into the background, and other things gain more important value, which is completely natural. But pleasure doesn’t have to disappear altogether; it may take a different form, you may have different needs, you may need to take care of yourself differently, or you may need a different context, but if you are interested in exploring, pleasure can absolutely awaken in anyone who wishes.

Editor Note

How much of what we call “intimacy” is actually performance shaped by expectation rather than presence shaped by self-awareness? Her perspective reframes pleasure as something deeply internal, less about doing and more about listening. There is a quiet provocation here: that many of us have been taught to override our own signals in the name of connection, mistaking compliance for closeness.

What she offers instead is a return to the body as an authority, not an afterthought. A reminder that desire cannot be rushed, engineered, or borrowed from someone else’s script.

Intimacy begins the moment you stop abandoning yourself to create it.