‘They touched me after I said no’: The sordid world of sex therapy

It is, undoubtedly, one of the more obscure forms of therapies, only brought into the mainstream by rare, Hollywood-driven Netflix documentaries.

But sex therapy – designed to help people overcome intimacy and sexual problems – has now come under increased scrutiny for its worrying and some say dangerous lack of regulation.

Recently, artist Ella Janneh, 37, took UK therapist and former TV sex coach Mike Lousada, 57 to a civil trial, claiming he raped and sexually assaulted her during therapy in 2016.

In the extraordinary and alarming case, Lousada admitted “penetrating” Janneh with his penis in a bid to “absorb her trauma”. He compared his penis to a “laser beam”.

Janneh, who waived her right to anonymity was awarded more than £200,000 in damages, but claims her eight-year fight for justice has exposed gaps in the UK’s “broken” system, amid fears rogue practitioners are working unchecked.

Her lawyer, Catriona Rubens, explains: “The case was incredibly concerning, and it highlights how poorly regulated this industry is.

“The nature of a lot of therapy is that a lot of people go when they’re feeling vulnerable, and compulsory regulation is currently completely lacking in the UK.

“Unless a therapist chooses to register with a professional body, there is nothing stopping them from having glossy impressive websites calling them trauma-informed therapists and there’s no protection or accountability over what they actually mean.

“I think most members of the public don’t know there is no compulsory regulation and the risk that entails.”

Rubens highlights a major problem within this field – that the terms “counsellor”, “psychotherapist”, and “therapist” are not legally protected titles in the UK. Contrast this to the fact that if someone impersonates a doctor in the UK, they can be jailed.

But perhaps more concerning is the range of practices that come under the term “sex therapy” – and how some use highly intimate methods.

‘I know it to be immensely healing, but the context is important’

For sex therapy has come a long way since its founding. 

First coined in the late 1950s by US practitioner William Masters, the initial approach involved using talking therapy to understand the root of sexual problems. It then suggested introducing sensual exercises without sex to allow a person or couple to rebuild their sexual relationship from the very beginning.

Decades later, however, critics were pointing out that there were no studies done on whether this approach was effective in helping sexual problems, such as erectile dysfunction or low libido.

And as the practice developed, it also became clear there was no unified underlying theory or unique approach that could define sex therapy – with some believing talking therapy was adequate and some offering touch to clients as a way to help them heal.

Fast forward to now, and in the UK, there is one professional body, the College of Sexual and Relationship Therapists, dedicated to sex therapy, which never uses touch.

Its 768 accredited members, who are registered as psychosexual and relationship therapists, seek to help clients develop more fulfilling relationships, manage sexual challenges and deal with the effects of trauma and abuse all through talking. 

Jo Coker, its director of Therapy and Training Standards, says: “Touch is not part of our therapy and cases like this [Lousada] are just so distressing as they may put vulnerable people off seeking professional help.

“We see people who have had invasive surgery and need help, or women trying to recover from childbirth, or those who’ve had a mastectomy and have anxiety over sex. 

“Much of our work is psycho-educational as most people are very poorly educated about sex. We have high ethical standards and never use touch.”

But it is clear – as in the case of Lousada – that some other practitioners who operate in this field do see touching of intimate parts as a legitimate form of therapy. 

In Gwyneth Paltrow’s 2021 Netflix show, Sex, Love & Goop, for instance, sexual therapist Darshana Avila employed touch and digital penetration as a way to help clients achieve sexual arousal and pleasure. (The practice is illegal in every US state except California.)

In one scene, she is seen inserting her fingers into the vagina of a female client who suffered from penetrative pain.

There is no link at all between her or any other touch-driven therapist and Lousada, but he too used touch, as well as penile penetration.

His recent court case heard how he practised what he termed “Psychosexual Somatics® Therapy” which he said “may involve full body massage on a naked body and may include touch to all areas of the body, including the genitals and other intimate body parts”.

His own barristers said in court that he had engaged in penile penetration with about “30 to 40” clients.

Janneh herself has spoken movingly of the trauma she suffered as a result of what happened. Speaking to the Daily Mail she said that when she left she felt “underwater”.

“I remember walking towards the train station in a daze,” she added. “ What I can remember is the stink of fear, my underarms stunk of fear.”

She also revealed that in 2018 she discovered she was pregnant. “I wanted to keep the baby,” she said, but had an abortion as she “couldn’t subject another human being to the distress I felt, for that to run through their veins while it ran through mine.”

The court heard from Jenni Joy, the London-based director of the Association of Somatic & Integrative Sexologists (ASIS), which Lousada helped found in 2013 then left shortly after.

Her voluntary organisation currently has 48 practitioners worldwide, 26 in the UK, who work across talk therapy, breathwork, trauma release, sexual surrogacy and Tantric practices.

“Some of our members use touch and some don’t,” she says. “We are a broad church of practitioners. 

“But digital penetration is very valuable and deeply therapeutic work if offered medically, therapeutically and spiritually for healing.

“I do this work and have received it and I know it to be immensely healing. But the context is important as to how the work is received.

“From our perspective, touching is one of forms, but it is one of many steps and often not needed.”

She adds that it is “incredibly difficult” to treat clients who have terrible body shame or anxiety that is getting in the way of their lives and relationships.

And she adds that while penile penetration “obviously carries many more risks than digital penetration, for some people, like adult virgins, this work is essential”.

‘People don’t even understand whether they truly consented’

This field, for the uninitiated, is known as sexual surrogacy, which typically involves a triad approach of client, talk therapist and sexual surrogate, to perform sexual interaction – such as intercourse or touch – with the client to help them overcome difficulties.

In the UK, there are only a handful of practitioners who work as sexual surrogates and offer penile penetration (the field is much bigger in the US.)

One who has worked as one is Kian de la Cour, of London, a certified somatic sex educator, who also founded The School of Somatic Sexology. 

In his current therapy work, he sometimes uses intimate touch to help clients, in which he is always clothed and uses gloves.

But in the past, he has also worked as a sexual surrogate, where he helped people overcome their sexual inexperience.

“I did not call this therapy,” he says. “You typically might have a person who is an adult virgin or extremely sexually inexperienced.

“Basically, they want an instructional environment. If there ever was penile penetration, it was always with a condom.”

De la Cour insists he has never had any negative feedback about his work. But according to experts, complaints about therapists – be them sex therapists or not – are relatively common.

Rubens, who works for Leigh Day solicitors specialising in medical abuse cases, adds: “Every month we are contacted by someone saying they have been touched inappropriately by a health professional.  

“This can be a GP, or physiotherapist, or osteopath, therapist or counsellor.

“It is really not unusual for us to receive these kinds of inquiries, and it raises real concerns about the prevalence of abuse in therapeutic contexts. 

“Often people come to us as they just want advice as they have no idea what to do, or where to turn to next, or even to understand whether they truly consented or not as it can be such a blurred environment, set against an imbalance of power in favour of the therapist.”

Worrying reports of behaviour from therapists can be found across the Internet.

Last year on Mumsnet, a woman wrote how her therapist – a licensed clinical psychologist in the UK – had touched her inappropriately after they became too close.

She wrote: “A therapist touched me after I said no. Not explicit touching but uncomfortably intimate. Stroking just under breasts.

Prior to this, they had touched my face and once kissed my cheek like you would do a friend. “At the time I felt I enjoyed the closeness and warmth but it was very confusing and things did not end well. Am I justified in feeling anger years later?

Another replied: “This happened to me with a male therapist when I was 18. He touched me inappropriately and asked me extremely inappropriate questions. He told me to masturbate as a way to calm down and relieve my anxiety. I still think about it a lot and really wish I’d reported it at the time.”

‘I can see why clients get sucked into this’

For Lucy Cavendish, London-based relationship counsellor and author How to Have Extraordinary Relationships, she says the lack of regulation means vulnerable clients often see therapists who are not properly qualified and flout all ethical standards.

“I’ve heard of therapists who have told clients they have feelings for them,” she says.

“I’ve also heard of a couple splitting up and then the female therapist getting together with the male half within a matter of months.

“There are no statutory regulations so someone can do a six-week online course and say they are a counsellor or therapist. 

“I know some sex therapists and they are brilliant. Their work is incredibly needed, but clients need to do a lot of research first or ideally get a recommendation from a regulated body.”

Indeed, even though Mike Lousada has been made to pay his victim over £200,000, he can still technically practise, although he has closed down his website. During the trial his barristers argued his work was a “legitimate activity” and Lousada maintained he had received repeated “verbal consent” from Janneh. There is no current police investigation but the Metropolitan Police have said they are reviewing the case and will consider any new detail.

But as shocking as this is, for sex and women’s rights author Kate Lister, author of A Curious History of Sex, the case is altogether not that surprising.

“This is far from the first time I have heard such outlandish claims about the healing powers of sex,” she says.

“I once went to a tantric sex course in Bali, and the exercises gradually got more bizarre. They weren’t safe and I refused to do them.

“Teachers spoke at great length about the healing power of sex, and how you had to have your genitals spiritually ‘de-armoured’, which basically meant letting other participants finger you.” 

During this retreat, she said students and assistants were encouraged to have sex, and anytime anyone questioned what was going on, they were told this was spiritual work and that they needed to work on their ego. 

She adds: “In the years since that experience, serious allegations of sexual abuse and coercion have been made against that group by former members. 

“Many have admitted that they violated ethical boundaries but they still see clients.

“Looking back it was crazy, but it was also so seductive and there was a huge power dynamic. I can see why clients get sucked into this.”

Like so many others, Lister also believes the industry is woefully unregulated.

“You have the proper qualified legitimate sex therapists with degrees, and then you have these people with all the buzz words,” she says.

“They sound impressive but they mean nothing. It’s complete nonsense and I find the fact these people can practise absolutely mind blowing.”