Someone asked me at a workshop: Do you journey? I said yes. That was the entire intake process. What followed was months inside a group where the substances were secret, questions were discouraged, and the culture of silence ran so deep that when someone died, no one called for help.

Someone asked me at a workshop: Do you journey? I said yes. That was the entire intake process. What followed was months inside a group where the substances were secret, questions were discouraged, and the culture of silence ran so deep that when someone died, no one called for help.

In March 2021, I was 35 years old, freshly out of a relationship, and coming off the biggest production job of my career. I felt empty in a way I didn't know how to name. So I flew to Sedona to work with a medicine woman — alternating San Pedro and Ayahuasca, 11 days in the desert. I thought I was going to heal. What I didn't expect was to find myself deep in a forest, in an altered state, slowly realizing I was being recruited into a cult.

MDMA doesn’t create intimacy—it lowers the fear that blocks it. For many couples, the real longing isn’t better sex, but safety, honesty, and the ability to stay present with one another without armor. This piece explores how intimacy-focused, medicine-assisted work can deepen connection when approached with preparation, consent, and integration.