Why Masturbating Is My ADHD Reset Ritual I Never could Tell Anyone About.

When someone first asked me “What my are your go to ADHD reset rituals?
I laughed out loud.

Like What, do they think I’m a cult leader?
That I’ve got some neurodivergent voodoo
spell that calms the chaos and
makes my ADHD masturbation brain sit still?

And let’s be honest
if you’ve read anything else on NeuroCurious,
you know I push back on the Ph.D. narratives,
the ‘self-care’ spa bullshit, and all the fluffy, sanitized hacks.

But the more I spiraled on it,
the more it clicked.

ADHD isn’t a disorder of attention
it’s a kink for pattern, for feedback loops,
for stimulation that feels familiar but never boring.

And when I stopped trying to force regulation the way they told me to
and started following my own body’s signals
I saw the rituals that actually fucking worked.

This one? This one’s the realest.
Masturbation.

Not just stroking for pleasure.
Not zoning out with porn until your hand’s numb.

I’m talking about solo worship.
A ritual.
A reset.
A goddamn sacred exhale.

And yeah
It’s taboo. It’s private. It’s soaked in shame.
But it’s also been the single most consistent reset button in my ADHD life.
I used to hide it.
Now I ritualize it.

And on top of all that,
most people don’t even understand
how us ADHDers view, embrace,
and feel about masturbation differently.

The orgasm isn’t the goal. The exhale is.

Self-pleasure is different for everyone,
especially us with ADHD.

For me I can edge for hours and the ADHD reason is:
It calms the storm.
I’ll open my laptop,
start the search spiral,
and finally drop into something I can control.

It unlocks hyperfocus.
When I’m deep in a porn loop,
I’m nowhere else.
And that singularity of focus is rare and sacred for my brain.

It regulates dopamine.
When the orgasm hits,
it doesn’t just make me come.
It makes me capable again.

I’ll finish jerking off and suddenly
I can answer the email.
Send the text.
Finish the thing I was avoiding.

And if you have ADHD?
I bet you know that feeling, too.

The Solo ADHD Ritual (my way)

Sometimes I don’t even plan it.
My body just knows.

I’ll be halfway through avoiding a task,
mind flickering between tabs, and suddenly I feel it
the tug.
The pulse.
The permission to come back to myself.

Other times?
I’m in the thick of the spiral.
Frustrated as fuck.
Too many tabs.
Too much noise.
And I have to literally pause, take a deep breath, and choose it.

I tell myself: Lock it in.
Give yourself that 20 minutes.
Because it’s either that…
or four hours of spiraling,
followed by self-shame,
and a whole next morning
where I’m not even present in my own damn skin.

So yeah
I make the time.
I let the ritual hold me.

Before the laptop opens,
I exhale slow.
One hand on my chest.
One on the waistband.
Not rushing.
Just letting my body say:
“This is mine.”

Now I open the Laptop. AirPods in.
Maybe music. Maybe porn.
Maybe just memory.
Maybe opening my vault of screenshots and videos I made.

Sometimes it’s that one video I saved three years ago.
Sometimes it’s a voice note.
Her laugh.
Her moan.
The message she sent at 1:14 AM.

Shirt still on.
Pants shoved halfway down.
Winnie the Pooh style.

My version of sacred.
My version of home.

And yes I embraced edging in my 20’s
and thats a story for another time but.

I edge because it feels like focus.
Like prayer.
Like a fuck-you to the world that told me this was wrong.

I edge because I need something that’s mine.
Because my brain is chasing a pattern and my body remembers the way back.

And when I finally come
it’s not about climax.

It’s about capacity.
It’s about clarity.
It’s about coming back online.

I Don’t Just Edge to Porn, I Edge to Memory

The thing is
when I really need to reset
I don’t reach for something new.

I go back.
Back to the memory that hits every time.

Back to the night I shared her,
and watched her unravel for someone else.
Back to the pool.
The bedroom.
Back to the screenshots of dirty talk
that made me feel undeniable.
To the voice note she left at 1:14 AM
where her breath hitched and she didn’t know I’d saved it.

That’s my archive.
That’s my altar.
That’s where I edge.

Because it’s not about novelty.
It’s not about chasing something new.

It’s about return.
To what wrecked me.
To what grounded me.
To what made me feel like I belonged inside my own want.

Every ADHD ritual needs an anchor.
This is mine.

And when I find that anchor during each session
the memory that wraps around my breath
and reminds me who the fuck I am

I finally let go.

And that focus, that anchor is everything.
if you are wondering what’s holding you back.
It’s about finding your anchor.
It’s about removing your shame or guilt 
And having an open mind to lean into your own ADHD ritual anchor.

and Yes, sometimes I edge too long.
Lose the thread.
Numb out instead of coming home.
But even then
I start again.
Not with guilt.
With breath.
With choosing myself on purpose this time.

When I realized the Ritual doesn’t always have to be solo, and how it unlocked a new form of ADHD Aftercare

What still blows my fucking mind
is how many partners wanted in on this.

I thought I’d be judged.
Laughed at.
Mocked for being the guy who set the mood
just to stroke his own cock
like it was some sacred fucking ceremony.

But since high school?
Every girl I ever told
every guy friend who caught the edge in my voice when I described it
they didn’t shame me.

They wanted in.
They laughed at first.
Sure.

That nervous giggle we all do when sex stops being performative
and starts sounding personal.

But then they asked questions.
They wanted to know how I set it up.
What I used.
How I stayed in the moment.

Some wanted help building their own.
Some wanted me in theirs.
And a few god, a few
just wanted to sit next to me
or watch me on video
while I spiraled into it
so they could feel what it looked like to be that fucking present.

And every time it happened,
it rewrote a little piece of the shame story.
For me.
For them.
For what we think masturbation is supposed to look like.

And on top of that it unlocked
a new form of ADHD aftercare

Even after sex,
partners would want to participate
or ask questions
and it would lead to round 2 often being 
mutual masturbation together
taking our sex and that experience
to an even higher level.

The Transfer of the Solo Play ADHD Ritual Didn’t Alway Last

I know this sounds like a perfect harmony
like every partner was on board and every friend understood.

But the truth is,
society and parenting
and the fucked-up way the world treats masturbation
has created a dynamic
where it’s normal for boys
and shameful for girls.

Even when they grow up.
Even when they’re empowered,
brilliant, sexual fucking women
that shame clings to them.

And I got to witness that firsthand.

Because when we leaned in together?
It was magical.
It was permission.
It was an unlock.

But on their own
initiating the ritual for themselves
it was different.

They almost didn’t seem to care.
Or didn’t want to.
Or convinced themselves they did…
but couldn’t make it real.
They loved that I made it.
They loved that I shared it.
The folder.
The notes.
The voice messages.
The part of me I don’t show unless I feel safe.

They just… didn’t come back to it.

Not because they didn’t care.
Not because it didn’t turn them on.
But because so many women were taught
to crave connection
not self-directed pleasure.

Not because it didn’t feel good.
Not because they didn’t crave it.
But because shame still held from enjoying it 
But unsure if that was ok.

And fuck, I wish they had.

Because every time a woman claimed her own anchor
the memory, the breath, the soundtrack, the yes
she doesn’t just masturbate more.
She becomes fucking magnetic.

Not because of me.
But because of how deeply she chose herself.

and if you’re wondering
I still believe they’ll return to it.
Maybe not for me.
But for themselves.
And when they do,
I hope they edge to memory
not to miss me,
but to finally feel themselves.

This Ritual is Often Shared Not Because Masturbation Doesn’t work, but The shame.

We’ve made solo pleasure sound like failure.
Like you only do it when you’re unwanted.
When you’re alone.
When no one else chose you.

Fuck that.

Masturbation is not the fallback.
It’s not the placeholder.
It’s not the substitute for intimacy.

It’s the foundation.
The anchor.

The one place your body speaks to you without performance.
Without compromise.
Without needing to be “in the mood” for someone else’s pace.

And until we stop teaching people
especially women
that their hands are only for others,
and their orgasms only matter when they’re witnessed,
this shame cycle will keep stealing the best part of our fucking nervous system:
our ability to self-regulate through pleasure.

and for that society has failed us all.

Full Circle: The Edge Is the Exhale

ADHD taught me to chase patterns.
Masturbation taught me to feel them.

It’s not about the climax.
It’s about the calm that comes after.
It’s not about being horny.
It’s about being here.

Present. Grounded. Capable again.

This ritual saved my mornings.
It softened my spirals.
It let me come back into my body without needing permission.

So if you’ve ever felt like you’re drowning
in your own mind,
this isn’t your cue to perform.
It’s your invitation to return.

Start small. Set the scene.
Edge to what wrecked you.
Edge to what made you feel undeniable.
Edge to what reminds you that your body is still yours.

Because in a world that profits off our disconnection?
The most rebellious thing you can do…
is touch yourself like you matter.

Cause YOU FUCKING MATTER!

For Our Neurotypical Partners:

Masturbation for some of us isn’t about sex.
It’s about regulation.
It’s about safety.
It’s about remembering what we like so we can show up for others from that place.

Please don’t judge us.
Please don’t make us feel like we need to rush.

And you don’t have to have ADHD to embrace this ritual.
So if this post makes you wanna go edge to a memory that’s yours?
This is your permission slip to do so.

Light a candle.
Play that voice note.
Make yourself wait.
Make it yours.

You get to edge, explore, return, and fuck like a sacred animal.

We Learn New Rituals Thru Sharing, Your Turn To Share

What’s your ritual?
What do you edge to when the world won’t shut up?

Send me the memory, the moment, the screenshot, the soundtrack.
Slide in anonymously.
Or boldly. Or dripping wet with curiosity.

Want help building your own ADHD solo ritual?
Have questions about mine?
Or just wanna tell me what made you come the hardest?