As a steamy romance writer, I spend quite a bit of time thinking about pleasure. What would this character want to do in bed and what would feel good to them? It’s a gift to be able to spend so much time thinking about pleasure, because I doubt enough of us do.

Western culture “has a problem with pleasure in general,” says Dr. Emily Morse in her book “Smart Sex: How to Boost Your Sex IQ and Own Your Own Pleasure”.  And not just sexual pleasure. We feel guilty eating that piece of decadent chocolate. We would never get a massage for ourselves, but for a stressed-out spouse, sure.

Women in particular may struggle. Culture tells women to be many things (fit, beautiful, young, smart, productive, supportive, kind, etc.). We are often the assumed caregivers. We give to our kids, our partners, our friends, but when we want to do something for ourselves (like attend a fancy yoga retreat), we resist, even feel guilty that we are spending money on ourselves or aren’t doing more for others. Why? We deserve pleasure too.

And that includes sexual pleasure. Why do some women feel guilty admitting, even to themselves, that they masturbate or want to? Masturbation is a key way any gender learns about their sexual bodies and what feels good. Normalizing this normal behavior is often a noticeable element in many of today’s romances. Hooray!

Exploring ideas around sex and sexual pleasure is a part of all my novels, but particularly in the case of Walker and Nora in Formula One Noel. (Caution: small spoilers ahead.)

Walker (F1 Driver) and Nora (ER doctor) are high achievers. No question. They are doers. And both struggle to be receivers, particularly of pleasure from a lover. Two of the steamy scenes I wrote in the novel highlight this. The one where Walker binds Nora’s wrists, and the one where Nora gives Walker a slow pelvic massage during oral sex. In both of these scenes, they each struggle to see their worthiness in receiving such attention and focus from the other. When they each finally settle into receiving, it’s a revelation.

This may be all too common in real life. The benefits of pleasure aren’t easily measurable or translatable to making money, something infinitely valued in western culture. So, pleasure can feel at best, out of place, or at worst, worthless. But as Dr. Morse points out in her book, if your goal is, at least in part, to live a joyful, fulfilled, embodied life, pursuing pleasure must be part of your plan.

Give yourself permission to enjoy things in life. Not to overindulge as part of an effort to numb pain, but to experience real pleasure as one of the good (and often free) things in life. Because you deserve it.