Growing up, Alison learnt to keep her desires tucked away quietly, controlled, and almost invisible. Pleasure wasn’t framed as a birthright but as a risk, something that could cost you respect or belonging. Years later, she chose a different path.
Today, Alison works to rewrite that story not just for herself, but for anyone who has been taught that wanting more makes them wrong. Her perspective isn’t about perfection or performing intimacy for the outside world. It’s about creating space for curiosity, honesty, and self-acceptance, even when it feels messy.
In this interview, Alison opens up about the moments that changed her thinking, why exploring kink can start with a single question, and how saying “no” can be the most liberating yes you ever give yourself.
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Personal Journey & Unlearning Shame
You’ve spoken about unlearning the shame around pleasure and sex. Can you pinpoint a specific moment or turning point in your journey where you began to see pleasure not as something to be feared or hidden, but as a source of power and freedom?
Alison: For me, it wasn’t one specific lightbulb moment, but a series of small, layered shifts that changed my perspective over time. The more I allowed myself to explore my own sexuality, the more I started to see how much of my shame was influenced by the world around me. We all grow up learning sexual scripts that become ingrained in our ways of thinking.
They become these unspoken rules about what sex is supposed to look like, what counts as “good” or “bad,” who gets to enjoy pleasure, how desire is supposed to look, and what counts as acceptable or “too much.” We all internalise these messages, often without realising it. For a long time, I followed them. I worried about whether I was performing sex the “right” way, whether my desires fit the mould, and whether wanting more made me selfish. But when I started exploring my own body and my own pleasure, I slowly began to push back against those scripts.
With safe and trusted partners, I gave myself permission to push boundaries, to experiment, and to discover what truly felt good without apology. Each time I leaned into curiosity rather than fear, the old scripts around shame loosened their grip a little more. What really shifted everything was learning to get out of my head, away from performance and expectation, and into my body, where pleasure felt empowering and free.
Navigating Shame & Guilt
For someone struggling with guilt or embarrassment around their fantasies or desires, what steps can help them move toward self-acceptance?
Alison: We all grow up learning about sex, fantasies and desires in different ways, and as I mentioned above, these become our sexual scripts. These scripts don’t just come from society, but they’re also shaped by our families, culture, religion, the media, even the throwaway comments we heard growing up. I think these scripts are where the guilt and embarrassment can build. And because they’re so deeply woven into us, unlearning them can be uncomfortable. It can feel awkward or even icky while you’re unlearning. But on the other side of that discomfort is the beauty of exploration.
In moving toward self-acceptance, I always encourage people to start by breaking free from the idea that pleasure is one-sided or that you are somehow undeserving of it. The truth is, we all deserve pleasure. It isn’t something you have to earn.
Start by naming and claiming your desires. Write down fantasies, turn-ons, or things that excite you without censoring yourself. Saying them aloud or even journaling them can help with reducing shame and integrating desire into your sense of self. Creative outlets can help articulate your feelings and lean into your thoughts and fantasies in a totally nonjudgmental space (only your own judgements that is).
Educate yourself! Find sex-positive books, listen to podcasts, follow sex educators, or attend workshops to meet like-minded folks to find your own community. Learning how common fantasies and desires are can be hugely validating and empowering. And I think you’ll find your own fantasies are more common than you realise.
Lastly, lean in with curiosity. Even a simple change of language can start to shift our views toward self-acceptance, but also towards a sex-positive framework that starts to see desires and fantasies from a curiosity perspective.
For example, “I’m curious about exploring powerplay because it allows me to explore deep trust and vulnerability. Giving up control can actually feel incredibly freeing and intimate.”
The “Unapologetic, Messy, Beautiful Truth”
You mention the “unapologetic, messy, beautiful truth of desire.” What does embracing the “messy” part of desire mean in practice, and how can we release the pressure to have perfect, magazine-worthy sexual experiences?
Alison: When I talk about desire being messy, I mean it in the most human, liberating sense. The essence of being human is the messy. Desire rarely fits neatly into the boxes we’re taught it should. It’s layered, it’s sometimes contradictory, and it often taps into parts of ourselves that we don’t show up as in our day-to-day lives.
For example, you might hold a high-up role at work where you’re constantly in charge, but in the bedroom, what you crave is to have someone else take control. Or you might be quiet, reserved, and keep to yourself in daily life, but nothing excites you more than the idea of tying someone up.
For me personally, this shows up in a very real way. My professional life is deeply rooted in advocacy. I am a strong voice for preventing violence against women and working within systems of justice and safety. Yet in my personal, erotic life, I find freedom in leaning into the kink and BDSM space. That contradiction used to feel unsettling, but over time, I have realised it is exactly what makes desire so beautifully complex. Desire is not about morality or politics. It is about play, power, vulnerability, and trust.
Pornography and erotic movies rarely show the messy aspect of sex; they make it look effortless. There are no conversations about consent or boundaries, they spend about 5 minutes on foreplay, and all of a sudden they are climaxing. The purpose of this is that they’re created for entertainment, not as education. Their bodies are perfectly manicured, and they often feed into certain sexual scripts or gendered roles.
Releasing the pressure to have “perfect” sex, the kind that looks effortless, glossy, and camera-ready, means embracing this messiness. Real intimacy is full of laughter, awkwardness, shifting moods, and unexpected turns. It is not about performance; it is about connection. The moment we stop striving for sex that looks “right” and instead allow ourselves to explore what feels true, that is when sex becomes deeply liberating.
Beyond the Missionary Position
The Sin Edit is all about exploring different forms of intimacy. For readers who feel stuck in a sexual rut, what’s a simple, low-stakes practice or mindset shift they can try to reignite curiosity and play within their own sexual experiences?
Alison: Feeling like you’re stuck in a sexual rut is actually one of the most common reasons people come to see a sexologist. I think the media has a huge influence on people’s perceptions of intimacy and sex. It’s easy to fall into comparing yourself to others and think ,“Is everyone else having more sex than I am?” But the truth is, there’s no such thing as the “right amount” of sex. What matters is whether your experiences feel fulfilling and nourishing to you.
A big shift is broadening how we define sex. So often we’re taught to see intercourse as the main event, but sex is so much more expansive than that. When we move toward pleasure as the focus, intimacy becomes less about performance and more about play. And play is powerful. It lights up our brains and floods our bodies with feel-good endorphins. Pleasure becomes something inviting, something to be curious about, and not based on orgasm and performance.
For anyone feeling stuck, a simple, low-stakes practice is to set aside just 10 or 15 minutes, whether solo or with a partner, to focus only on sensation and not performance or outcome. That might mean noticing the feeling of touch on your skin, playing with breath, or moving in ways that feel good without worrying about “where it’s going.”
I know it doesn’t sound sexy, but scheduling sex or intimacy can have huge benefits. It’s uninterrupted time to dive deeper into fostering and prioritising connection. A huge myth about intimacy is that we’re told it should be spontaneous, effortless, and passionate. But as I mentioned, desire is messy, and so are our lives. Our mental space can be taken up by work, study, stress, and exhaustion, which leaves little room for passion to ignite. Instead of waiting for a mythical spark of desire, scheduling sex or intimacy can build anticipation. You can flirt during the day, send cheeky texts, or let your mind wander toward what’s to come.
Kink and Exploration
For someone who is kink-curious but unsure where to begin, what’s the first step you would recommend they take to safely and respectfully explore their interests, whether alone or with a partner?
Alison: Exploring kink can be a really fun and empowering step in exploring your sexuality and sexual desires. But exploring kink relies heavily on three things: safety, communication, and consent. I think a lot of people hear “kink” or “BDSM” and immediately picture whips, chains, or a 50 Shades of Grey scene. And yes, it can look like that, but it can also be incredibly gentle, playful, or deeply passionate.
If you’re curious, the first step is asking yourself what about kink actually sparks your interest. Is it the vulnerability? The intensity? The sensation? The play with power? Getting clear on what draws you in makes it easier to explore in a way that feels aligned and not overwhelming.
If you’re exploring alone, maybe it’s about playing with temperature or constraint, and building kink into masturbation. You could start by reading erotica or guided fantasies to explore through imagination, giving you the opportunity to safely explore power dynamics, submission, or dominance without risk.
If you’re exploring with a partner, trust is everything. Kink often asks us to put ourselves in vulnerable positions, so it’s essential to know your partner will respect your boundaries. Before you try anything, have an open conversation: What are you both curious about? What are your hard nos? What are the maybes? Agree on a safeword, something easy and non-sexual like “red” or even “elephant,” and consider a non-verbal cue too, especially if you’re exploring things like impact play or breath play where you may not be able to verbalise your boundary.
Whether exploring alone or with a partner, notice how your body responds to different sensations, thoughts, or power dynamics. Pay attention to pleasure, arousal, tension, and boundaries. Self-awareness builds our confidence to communicate our desires with a partner.
And lastly, aftercare is a must. Because of the level of vulnerability that kink often requires of us, aftercare is so important to check in with each other, provide some connection and bring our nervous systems back on board. Kink can often stir up big feelings in the body as we push our limits, so taking time to reconnect through cuddles, talking, showering together, or simply holding each other is what allows you to close the experience with care and compassion.
The Power of “No”
The ability to say “no” is a cornerstone of consent. How do you help people find their voice to say “no” confidently and compassionately, and how does this skill empower them in all areas of their lives, not just in the bedroom?
Alison: The ability to say “no” is not just the foundation of consent but it’s also the foundation of building our own self trust. When you know you can set boundaries, you feel safer leaning into your “yes.” But for many people, saying no feels loaded with guilt, fear of rejection, or the pressure to please.
I think as women, we’re often shy away from the word “no.” We find it hard to say no in the workplace, in friendships, even in day-to-day requests. Many of us would rather smile, appease, and just get on with things than deal with the awkwardness of turning someone down. That conditioning doesn’t disappear when we step into the bedroom.
In therapy, I work with people to untangle those fears and start practicing their no in ways that feel both confident and compassionate. One way is to reframe “no” as an invitation to your own authenticity. Saying no isn’t about shutting someone down, but it’s honouring your own honesty, clarity, and respect. Another way is to practice no in low-stakes settings, like declining an invite or setting a boundary at work. Think of this like practice, so when it comes to intimacy, your no feels more accessible.
I would also encourage people to tune into their body signals. Often our bodies know the ‘no’ before our minds do. Maybe you start to feel your heart beat increase or like there’s a knot in your stomach, or maybe you’re starting to freeze. Learning to tap into these responses and physical cues can be a powerful step toward honouring your boundaries and trusting your gut.
The more you practice saying no with compassion, the more freedom and authenticity you create for your yes.
Your Personal “Sin” Revolution
If you had to choose one piece of advice or one profound realisation from your personal and professional journey that you could share with a woman who is just beginning to unlearn her own shame around pleasure, what would it be?
Alison: Buy as many vibrators and toys as you can and explore their potential!
Self-pleasure is where you find your sweet spot. You don’t have to worry about someone else’s needs; the focus is all on you. I think masturbation for women is still loaded with shame, but the truth is it’s one of the most powerful tools we have for self-discovery and self-care. Plus, it’s loaded with health benefits! Orgasms and masturbation can reduce stress, improve sleep, ease cramps and pain, strengthen your pelvic floor, and even boost your immune system.
On top of all that, they deepen your connection to your body, helping you learn what feels good so you can carry that confidence into partnered intimacy. And most of all, self-pleasure tells us that our desire is worthy, our body is deserving, and our pleasure is all ours.
Editor Note
Alison’s journey shows that pleasure isn’t a luxury; it’s a fundamental right. Letting go of shame, exploring with curiosity, and honoring our desires opens a path to empowerment that reaches far beyond the bedroom. It’s messy, it’s human, and it belongs entirely to us.
Through self-discovery, honest communication, or the courage to say ‘no,’ every step toward embracing your desires is a step toward reclaiming your power
